Point of Retreat

walking down the stairs as she continues speaking.)
     
     
     
     
     
    “I’d like to extend to others what others have extended to me.”
     
    (She walks up to Mrs. Brill first and holds out a butterfly)
     
    “ Butterfly you, Mrs. Brill.”
     
    (Mrs. Brill smiles at her and takes the butterfly out of her hands. Lake laughs out loud and I have to nudge her to get her to be quiet. Kiersten walks around the room, passing out butterflies to several of the students, including the three from the lunchroom.)
     
    “ Butterfly you, Mark.
     
    Butterfly you , Brendan.
     
    Butterfly you, Colby.”
     
    (When she finishes passing out the butterflies, she walks back onto the stage and places the microphone back into the stand.)
     
    “I have one thing to say to you
     
    And I’m not referring to the bullies
     
    Or the ones they pursue.
     
     
     
     
     
    I’m referring to those of you that just stand by
     
    The ones who don’t take up for those of us that cry
     
    Those of you who just…turn a blind eye .
     
     
     
     
     
    After all it’s not you it’s happening to
     
    You aren’t the one being bullied
     
    And you aren’t the one being rude
     
    It isn’t your hand that’s throwing the food
     
     
     
     
     
    But…it is your mouth not speaking up
     
    It is your feet not taking a stand
     
    It is your arm not lending a hand
     
    It is your heart
     
    Not giving a damn.
     
     
     
     
     
    So take up for yourself
     
    Take up for your friends
     
    I challenge you to be someone
     
    Who doesn’t give in.
     
    Don’t give in.
     
    Don’t let them win.”
     
     
     
     
     
    As soon as ‘damn’ comes out of Kiersten’s mouth, Mrs. Brill is marching onto the stage. Luckily, Kiersten finishes her poem and rushes off the stage before Mrs. Brill reaches her. The audience is in shock. Well, most of the audience. Everyone on our row is giving her a standing ovation.
     
    As Mrs. Brill announces the next performance and we take our seats, Sherry whispers to me, “I didn’t get the whole ‘butterfly’ thing, but the rest of it was so good.”
     
    “Yeah it was,” I agree. “It was butterflying excellent.”
     
    Caulder is called onto the stage next. He looks nervous. I’m nervous for him. Lake’s nervous, too. I wish I knew what he was doing so I could have given him some advice before he got up there. Lake zooms the camera in and focuses it on Caulder. I take a deep breath, hoping he can get through it without cussing. Mrs. Brill already has her eye on us. Caulder walks to the microphone and introduces his talent.
     
    “I’m Caulder. I’m also doing a slam tonight. It’s called ‘Suck and sweet.’”
     
    Oh no , here we go again.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    I’ve had a lot of sucks in life
     
    A lot
     
    My parents died almost four years ago, right after I turned seven
     
    With every day that goes by I remember them less and less
     
    Like my mom…I remember that she used to sing.
     
    She was always happy ,
     
    always dancing.
     
    Other than what I’ve seen of her in pictures, I don’t really remember what she looks like.
     
    Or what she smells like
     
    Or what she sounds like
     
     
     
     
     
    And my Dad
     
    I remember more things about him, but only because I thought he was the most amazing man in the world.
     
    He was smart. He knew the answer to everything.
     
    And he was strong.
     
    And he played the guitar.
     
    I used to love lying in bed at night, listening to the music coming from the living room.
     
    I miss that the most.
     
    His music.
     
     
     
     
     
    After they died, I went to live with my grandma and grandpaul.
     
    Don’t get me wrong…I love my grandparents.
     
    But I loved my home even more.
     
    It reminded me of them.
     
    Of my mom and dad.
     
     
     
     
     
    My brother had just started college the year they died.
     
    He knew how much I wanted to be home.
     
    He knew how much it meant to me,
     
    so he made it happen.
     
    I was only seven at the time, so I let him do it.
     
    I let him give up his entire life just so I could be home.
     
    Just so I wouldn’t be so sad.
     
    If I could do it all over again, I would have never let him take me.
     
    He deserved a shot, too. A shot at being young.
     
    But sometimes when you’re seven, the world isn’t in 3-D.
     
     
     
     
     
    So,
     
    I owe a lot to my brother.
     
    A lot of ‘thank you’s’
     
    A lot of ‘I’m sorry’s’
     
    A lot of ‘I love