The Red Dream Catcher inside.

Ok, so I am still working on the name... lol

There is this girl in my grade.

She seems pretty happy,

always speaking her mind

making people laugh.

She doesn't talk much really.

I only ever see her with a few select others.

I guess that’s the reason we never spoke before this.

I never wanted to upset the status quo.

I didn't want to make her nervous

 

She has a locker at the end of the hallway,

the last senior locker at the very, far end.

When I walk by her after my lunch period, that is where she stands,

the locker door pushed open and her standing in its path.

 

I like to look at all the stuff inside this locker

when I happen to walk by it every day at this time:

The books stacked neatly on the top shelf, size ordered and alphabetical.

A dream catcher hangs from a tiny loop of string at the top upon a metal hook,

The bright red of the dream catcher that of the color of blood, 

or even the red that fills a sunset. 

 

…….

 

The jacket she wears today is black,

a striped, green shirt underneath.

This is the first I have seen her with her arms covered.

I miss those arms, really.

I couldn’t tell you why

 

She is at the same spot she always is after my lunch period ends,

standing at her locker.

She is just standing there though

as she is looking at the people around her.

She is watching them all as if plotting something in her head.

I can see it on her face.

She is thinking about something,

something that is bothering her.

I can’t tell what that is.

Is it any of my business?

 

…….

 

There are signs showing up on all the senior lockers now.

It is nearing the end of the year,

and it is tradition to put signs up like this,

showing what college they are all planning to go to in the coming fall.

 

One is empty though.

When she opens her locker, I notice this.

 

There is no sign on hers.

Her locker is blank.

 

…….

 

The layers she is continuing to cover herself seem to be getting bigger,

as if she is trying to hide herself from the world.

 

I watch her scratch herself,

as she stands at her locker,

She sometimes scratches her stomach,

but that isn’t as often as the others.

Watching her do this compels me to do the same act of scratching to my arm as well.

Stupid cat and his sharp, razor- like claws, I think to myself

 

Her locker is still blank

and she smiles every time she opens it,

yet she doesn’t seem happy when she smiles.

This isn’t a smile of happiness and joy.

 

She smiles as if ready for something.

 

.......

 

Her oversized jacket slipped a bit off her shoulder today.

I caught a glimpse of that hidden beauty underneath.

 

The bones in her shoulder reminded me of the dogs on animal planet,

neglected of food and water.

 

The bags under her eyes,

they fill her face now with a darkness I have never seen.

 

She doesn’t talk anymore.

She doesn’t even open her locker when I pass her at lunch.

She just stands there,

Staring.

 

Staring at the emptiness of her locker.

…….

 

She wasn’t at school today.

Her locker was being emptied of its contents 

I saw the janitor there when I passed after my lunch period.

Her locker was the same as she was now.

Empty.

Cold.

Forgotten.

I haven’t forgotten her though.

 

…….

 

There was this girl in my grade.

She seemed pretty happy.

I guess that wasn’t the case.

 

-S.L.S.

Author's Note

did I get my point across. What the plot line obvious?? lol
I was going for a certain style, ya know. :P

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the way you told the story in the poem. We watch people fall apart and can't help them. The girl story brought her to life. The good description create mystery and question. I wonder how many people we missed because we are afraid to walk out of our comfort zone? No weakness in the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[sierrasparks91]

Wonderful flow and a really good meaning, all of us have our secrets and some people don't figure them out.