Shattered Elizabeth Iceman

A kindergarten child being dragged down a hall, by her wrists and ankles, able to be seen by all. Day after day, the same routine of being scared of all of the adults that she sees. Though, still being forgiving with that innocence she had, never truly batting an eye at anything bad. Who was she to ever try to say? Under the constant illusion that this was okay. Innocence is so fragile; it can be broken like glass. Afraid of both being at home and in class. Crawling and hiding under her desk, her judgement and fears always being the test, Knowing what the approaching two towering adults signified in her mind— All of those thoughts she wishes she could leave behind. Rug burned leggings and skin underneath. Screaming, crying, and it's grown hard to breathe. Innocence is so fragile; it can be broken like glass. A few kind peers can be thought of at last, though again, they all just left, the notes and warnings constantly expressed. "I can't be your friend because the teacher told me not to." The discombobulation and self-questioning she constantly had gone through. Looking on the brighter side, she still had one, the one that stayed with her, to have fun with under the everlasting sun. Innocence is so fragile; it can be broken like glass. Years later and yet, she's still afraid of the past. But the sadness and fear seemed to be occasionally delayed, though she knew the momentary bliss never seemed to stay anyway.

Forced yet again into something confusing: “a plan” that was up to all of their choosing. Locked away in a room from everyone else, isolation seemed to just deteriorate her already semi-broken mental health. Innocence is so fragile; it can be broken like glass. "Hey Shakira, maybe we can hang out before or after class." Yet again another failure: Either kicked out or humiliated, her time in class left her, told again and again that she was never enough. She eventually believed them and agreed; that's why everything was so tough. It's why everyone left her. It's why every failure in her life seemed to occur. Innocence is so fragile; it can be broken like glass. Years of abuse and neglect had passed. Eventually, she was just broken, nothing more than a dumb clown for entertainment, with cheap jokes that are so blatantly spoken. The innocence that was once possessed, shattered to sharp shards of hatred that she continued to internally obsess. The bruises and nail marks once left on her joints, eventually lead to mental scars and razor blade points. I left my happiness on the playground seesaw, I’m but only a lonely cowboy, yeehaw.

Elizabeth Iceman, Grade 9 Roseau High School, Roseau Teaching Artist: Frank Sentwali