Words are powerful beings. They overtake people’s emotions, running around breaking bones. Not the physical, calcium-filled ones, but the ones the naked eye cannot see. One day in fifth grade, I broke six bones.

It was February 5, 2012. The morning was groggy and damp. The grass was dotted with morning dew. Skies competed for their own ego, threatening each other with thunder and lightning. I was making my usual path to school, trudging one foot in front of the other. Then, as I looked up from my fascination of the wet grass, I saw the gaggle of imbeciles: the Cheese Cutters. (I know, hilarious right? Well, let’s just say they named themselves in second grade and never cared to change it.)Leader of the Cutters, Johnny Robirds, lead his gaggle into a “V’ shape pointing straight towards me. Based upon my wimpy, fragile instinct, I curled into a fetal position on the side walk.

Spencer Thomas, Johnny’s right-hand-man, nudged me with his suede shoe. “You alright there, nose-picker?” he laughed and laughed. Matthew Roberts chimed in the iconic, “How’s the weather down there, Tiny Tommy?” they rolled with laughter. At this point, I looked up from the bullies’ tall heads and saw the bright, orange sun. The brightness of it must’ve gone to my head, for I then made a stupid mistake.


I couldn’t stand it anymore. I made a quick, stupid decision that only resulted in more bone breaking. I punched Johnny straight in the face. Apparently, I’m not the strongest puncher. Johnny retaliated with,”What, do you box with your mom? My grandma hits harder than that!” His clique then spit out all kinds of insults straight at me, “Fart smeller!” “I bet he licks his armpits!” “Good-golly-Miss-Molly! He smells like rotten cheese!” “Guys, just cut it out. You’re being stupid.”

I then looked up to see Braden Schneider cutting in on my bone-breaking. He had his hand on Johnny’s collar, threatening him. Johnny had a stunned look on his face. Braden had always been different from the other Cutter’s, but I never saw this coming. His words –nice ones- overpowered the mean, bone breaking ones. I always saw words as weapons; weapons to destroy. But that day, February 5, 2012, Braden Schneider had changed my perspective.

Words are powerful beings. They don’t always overtake emotions and harm people. Words can break bones, yes, but they can heal them, too.