Band-Aid Series: Everyone Needs A Band-Aid
By Emma Grace
I have a lot of band-aids. I always keep a box in my pocket, just in case someone needs one. I have them in all shapes and sizes, with every color of the rainbow. Some are bright and flashy, others are more mellow. All of them are good for healing scrapes and scratches. I always made sure that they never run out, so everyone could have a bandaid if they got hurt.
As I walked into school, I saw a boy. He was clutching his knee, trying to keep his tears in. The pants he wore had a few spots where blood leaked through. I felt around my pocket, pulling out a dark blue band-aid with bright yellow polka dots. He looked up a little as I sat down next to him, wiping the tears away from the corners of his eyes.
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking over at him. He shook his head, carefully pulling up the pant leg. A scrape ripped through his skin, stained red in certain spots. He winced a little as the pants rubbed against it.
"I fell. I'm so clumsy, I should've seen it coming," He muttered, struggling to get the words out. I cleaned out the scrape with some water in my bottle, gently putting the blue and yellow band-aid on it.
"We all fall. Its not your fault," I replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile. He looked up, a grateful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The band-aid did its work, his scrape began to heal.
As I walked into class, I saw a girl. She was on the floor, crying. I could hear snickering behind her. She curled up on the checkered floor, blocking out the world and the laugher with her sweater sleeves. I dug into the box, finding a bright pink band-aid with lavender stripes. I sat down next to her, tapping her sleeve. She looked up, a look of terror in her eyes.
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking over at her. She shook her head, desperately wiping away the tears. As she slowly stood up, I could hear the snickers grow into a laugh.
"They tripped me. They thought I looked stupid with my sweater," she whispered, looking down. Her sweater, a pastel pink with little lavender hearts, was now dirty from the floor. I brought the band-aid out, giving it to her. She looked a little surprised, staring down at the pink and purple stripes.
"You dont look stupid. They're stupid for tripping you," I reassured, putting a hand on her shoulder. She smiled a little, mumbling a small 'thank you'. She put the band-aid on her foot, smoothing it out carefully. The band-aid did its work, her foot began to heal.
As I walked to lunch, I saw a stranger. He was looking around nervously, clutching his lunchbox to his chest. The din was deafening, every seat seemed to be filled. I walked over, carrying my lunch. I could barely hear my own thoughts over all the noise, let alone my voice.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hoping he could hear my voice over the noise. He looked over, his anxiety evident. He shook his head a little, holding the lunchbox closer. He took a deep breath, practically shouting over the noise.
"I dont think theres a spot for me. I dont want to sit alone again," He shouted, looking over the rows of seats. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a white bandaid with baby blue splatters like paint. He looked at me weirdly when I handed it to him.
"I'll sit by you. We can talk on our own," I smiled, nodding over to a small table. He nodded a little, clutching the band-aid and followed me. We talked and talked, laughing and grinning like lunatics. The whole world seemed to disappear as we joked around between bites of our sandwiches. The band-aid did its work, he began to heal.
As I left school for the day, I saw a friend. She was staring off into space, a blank look on her face. She waited and waited for a parent, but nobody came for her. Cold wind cut through her thin jacket. She looked like she needed a lot of band-aids. Carefully, I walked over to her.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly, trying to see any emotion in her face. She showed none, looking at me with cold dead eyes. Sliding down the wall to sit, she sighed a little and began to speak.
"My mom never comes to pick me up on time, its like she doesn't care. It feels like nobody cares. I dont know why I'm even here," she muttered, burying her face in her jacket. I took out my box of band-aids, pulling them out one by one. The rainbow of colors caught her attention a little, as she looked over at the array of bandages.
"I care about you. Your here because you'll do something great," I whispered, handing her a band-aid. She took it with shaking hands, examining the orange and yellow spots. Carefully, she stuck it on her wrist.
"But why care about me? There's so many people on the earth, isnt there someone else to care for? Someone more interesting?" she asked, rubbing her arms. I handed her another bandaid, one with rainbow bands. She stuck it on her wrist again.
"Because there's only one you," I replied, giving her bandaid after bandaid. She stuck them all on her wrist until every cut was patched up. A small smile was on her face now.
"Thank you, really. Thanks for caring and talking to me," she whispered, feeling the new bandaids. The bandaids did their work, and her cuts began to heal. Her mom finally pulled up, and she waved goodbye with a small smile before running to the car.
Every day, I gave away band-aids. To the people who got hurt and who hurt themselves, for the people who feel pain. Physical or emotional, it didn't matter. I gave them all I could, trying to help everyone I could.
But I never used them on myself. People needed them more then me. So when I tripped and cried, I didnt give myself a blue band-aid with yellow polka dots. When I got mean notes, I didnt put on a pink bandaid with lavender stripes. When I had nowhere to sit, or when I felt like crying night after night, I never let the bandaids do their work and heal my wounds.
The boy never helped me up. The girl never dusted off my jacket. The stranger never sat with me. The friend never comforted me. I gave everyone bandaids, but nobody bothered to give me one.