Savannah Utley's Blog.

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Brandy's Blog URL

http://whenyoudontknowwhattosay.blogspot.com/

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#56

“Oh my how can they do that to her poor thing?!” My brain screamed at me. When all of my church friends left a new teen sitting there all by herself like a lost puppy . They were all sitting in a row, hair flying in the air as their tossed their head back to laugh. One girl with think coal hair said, “I feel squished like sardines in a box lets move to a different row.” In a split second they all got up, left the girl lost, just sitting there, humiliated and tomato red. That made my stomach flip flop, that feeling to be left alone humiliated, I had felt it. I did not want anyone else to feel it; I got up quick as lightning and asked her, “Hey, can I sit here with you?” Her whole face light up like a Christmas tree and she slid over. The feeling I had at that moment was amazing, I felt I had just helped the whole world. You can change peoples’ lives with one simple gesture and I did that.

#618

As dismay rushed her cheeks, a flood of sinless tears escaped her soft, graceful eyelashes. "You don't belong here!" screeched the mob of calumny girls. Blinded by the shredded clothes, deprived them of seeing the beautiful charisma within that scrawny, broken sculpture. Sincere understanding, her tacit gift for the world. Simply a hint of a radiant smile could have warmed this helpless spirit. Instead they proclaimed all reasons to release herself from such turmoil. The concrete angel was free. To drift among the above. Once place where she may be loved.

#68

While I was rocking back and forth on the swing, I overheard a man yelling at his wife. It made me feel sad to see that she was bowing her head down low in attempt to hide from him and the rest of the world. He was saying crude words to her, and by her actions, I could tell she did not enjoy being humiliated in public one bit. The long brown bench they were sitting on sat close to the playground, allowing all of the children to hear their argumentativeness. All I wanted to do was march right up to the contentious man and tell him that he was being mean, and to demand him to stop shouting. I stayed on the uncomfortable swing, and tried my hardest to build up just a small dose of confidence. The woman whispered to her husband, “You need to stop this. Please don’t yell at me in public, especially a park. There are children here.” He continued to holler at her, brushing off every word she had just said. Once I reached a good amount of confidence, I looked up, my spirits dampened to the view that the loud man and his wife had left while I was pondering what to say. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t help but feel that it was my fault that the lady was miserable.

The Hero #617

It was the kind of night that one just loves. The moon was the most beautiful of all the planets and the stars were shining so bright it was as if they were showing off. The wind was blowing and it was a perfect summer night. The girls were on the tramp with their blankets huddled up the way you hug and cuddle with your teddy bear. One of the girls whispered “She’s so weird, no one likes her.” “I know” joined another “who does she think she is?” asked another “she acts like she’s better than all of us!” contributed another until all the girls but one had broken the girl down. That’s when the hero stood up. “Let’s talk about something else.” She said. The other girls just shrugged it off as if they were brushing snow off their coats. It stuck to me though. I really wonder if she knows how much that truly meant to me how she stood up for the girl who wasn’t even there that perfect night.

#61

Will the laughing ever stop? It taunts from all directions. I’ve always been cautious. How could it have come to this? If only he hadn’t noticed or at least hadn’t said anything. I thought I hid it so well. I look around at the mocking faces for any one that I could reach out to for help, but the taunting just continues with no sign of rescuing. I don’t know what to do. The burning in my faces gets warmer, telling me that I know look like a bright tomato. My instinct is to do the thing I was born to do, run. I’ve ran from everything in my life; I haven’t been able to stand up to anything. That might be the big reason why this treacherous moment has fallen upon me.

#619

I was lying on my soft bed. My body was completely relaxed and ready to sleep. Every limb was in the right place and I could feel my heart gently pumping my blood through my veins. The quiet stillness was broken by a blood curdling scream. My whole body tensed and the peacefulness I had been soaking up, as a flower soaks up the sun, was now gone, leaving me feeling achy and tense. The scream entered my ears, reaching deep; it seemed to rip out the internal organs in them. The following noises were taunting and vindictive. I could hear my two sisters; once again. The older of the two was teasing the younger one. Now greatly annoyed, I listened, not yet willing to give up my downy bed. The words I heard were taunting and teasing. The eldest had a toy that the youngest had been peacefully playing with not thirty seconds before. The younger girl’s cry turned desperate. It was this cry that drove me nuts; not at the one emitting it, but the one provoking it. The eldest was bored and to fill her time she teased. I flew out of bed. My blood was hot, rushing through my veins now; fast, boiling, and furious. My anger residing as I came upon the scene, I somewhat calmly solved the problem. Upon returning to my bed and through the frustrating minutes that followed I could never seem to go back to that small, quiet, warm, blissful place again that day.

#620

The breeze was swaying the evergreen trees. My thoughts tossed and turned, as I looked towards the blazing sun. Somehow everything twisted and related to my ever taunting moment of shame. I looked down at my feet counting the stairs, they continued until I felt as if I had no strength left in me. I look up; I glanced in every direction, confused and alone with no knowledge of where to go. I turned my head to a slight angle and saw a boy soar away from a man twice his size. I frantically ran in fear; as I continued to witness this boy of no more than 12 get emotionally tortured. Terrible words were thrown at him from every angle as he was pinned against a wall as if he were a flyer tacked to a billboard. I had one moment of eye contact and as I looked into those deep blue eyes I saw an innocent boy pleading for my help. I wanted to do something with all my heart, but I couldn’t move. I walked away and never saw that boy again. I’ve always hated myself for doing that, and if I could do it over again, surely I would.