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If Words Could Kill
Once upon a time, in a land not far away, God wept excessively, while a girl’s eyes remained dry–she had no tears left to shed. Even from a distance, one could tell that she was a binge eater, for beneath her sagging hand-me-down t-shirt was bulging flesh. She brushed aside the sodden strands of maltreated hair that clung to her rotund face, and squinted into the distance, causing dark circles to swell beneath her bloodshot eyes. The poplar tree was just ahead, representative of a journey towards asylum–the schoolhouse–half completed. It was then that she noticed a figure in her domain.
The girl’s anger mounted with each pounding step. “Who are you, and why are you here?” she bellowed as she neared the encroacher.
“It is me, Poppy,” replied a willowy female with striking green eyes–a contrast to her snow-white complexion.
“Well, Poppy. You are a scrawny retard. Go back to where you belong,” she fumed before proceeding.
Poppy stayed, for she was where she belonged. And though each remark was cutting, she stood proud and tall.
On the return trip, the domineering girl brought with her a flurry of hateful words. She was stalling, for the thought of home caused her to wince. It wasn’t until her store of insults was completely exhausted that she stopped spewing.
Poppy stayed, for she was where she belonged. And though each remark was cutting, she stood proud and tall.
With each passing, the girl’s jibes grew in number and bluntness, and Poppy’s lacerations accumulated. Though things continued like this for quite some time, there came a day when Poppy could no longer stand proud and tall.
The girl didn’t hold back. For every bruise on her body, she bruised Poppy. Seething with rage, she fired slurs until she was foaming at the mouth like a rabid beast. “I hate you! You should kill yourself!” she asserted.
Poppy lay on the ground, her slashed limbs oozing. When the girl looked down at Poppy’s lifeless body, a dam deep inside her failed, and the rivers of anguish surged forth, flooding the desert of her soul. The girl did not see a tree laying on the forest floor, but herself.
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Summary: "If Words Could Kill" is a short story about an abused child who channels her personal anguish into bullying. Poppy, the victim of the former's bullying, begins cutting her wrists to cope. This self-harm would later claim Poppy's life. The abused child feels remorse for her actions after realizing that Poppy was just like her–a victim of abuse–and that she did to Poppy what her parents did to her. In the end, it is revealed that Poppy is in fact just a poplar tree that has been cut down as a result of deforestation. Nevertheless, the symbolism remains.