No reaction

Sticks and stones can't break my bones, so please stop throwing them at my tower. I sat high on my veranda watching the haters sling. My voice, from so far away, sounds weak but I am much stronger in person. I'm 12, a parent-less child sitting on a throne that would usually hold great power. I bend my knees and sit my underdeveloped bum down. People who know not of our culture question the bland emotions I show. "It's a God-awful thing you went through..." I know these things. I watched them die, but we swear to have no emotion. I held my breath and the hand of tears squeezed my throat. I cower to write this in my journal but as I watched in horror, a stubborn tear strolled down my cheek. To Be Continued...