Band-Aid Series: She Took My Band-Aids

By Emma Grace

I kept my hand in the box of band-aids as I walked to school, feeling them bounce around my hand. I had a feeling I would need them today. It was dark and gloomy, not enough to rain but still enough to blot out the sun. As I waited for the day to begin, people began to slowly shuffle in. Some wore band-aids, others didn't. I could see the boy talking to a couple friends, showing off his brand new band-aid. He was smiling, which made me do the same. 
But as I walked into school, I saw someone crying. Her curly blond hair covered her face, but the soft sobbing gave it away. She was curled up by the entrance, her knees pulled to her chest with her face buried in her jeans. I remember she was a part of my class, but I had never talked to her. She always seemed so busy with her friends, and so happy too. I felt a little guilty as I sat down next to her. 
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking over at her. She didnt bother looking up, softly speaking. I could barely hear her, her voice is so quiet. 
"My friends hate me now. They said I wasn't cool anymore, and that I shouldn't even bother speaking to them," She mumbled, wiping her eyes as she looked up. I dug into my pocket, finding a red band-aid with pink hearts. She looked at the color, a little surprised. 


"Then, they weren't real friends. You are really cool - in your own way," I smiled, handing her the band-aid. She looked over the colors, carefully peeling off the white papers. But she didn't put it on. She turned back to me, glaring.  
"How's a band-aid supposed to help me? They're just fabric with sticky stuff!" She hissed, throwing the band-aid back at me. I felt my eyes widen a little. Nobody's ever done that, what was I supposed to do? The sticky stuff was still good. I carefully held it on the padding, holding it up again. 
"Band-aids aren't just for bruises and cuts. Sometimes you just need one," I replied quietly, putting it on her hand. She looked at it a little, turning her hand as she admired it. I prayed that the band-aid did her job, and that she would begin to heal. She looked back at me, ripping the band-aid off with a small wince before throwing it onto the floor. She stomped on it a little, grinding her heel into the red and pink hearts until I could barely recognize it. She stood up, balling her hands into fists. 
"Band-aids won't fix friendships. Until you find some magical cure for that, maybe you should actually help instead of giving out stupid kiddie band-aids," she growled, stomping away. I looked down at the remains of the red and pink hearts. I definitely couldn't save it now. Sighing, I started to walk to class and hoped I didn't start to cry. 
Class went by like a blur. The girl who shouted at me didn't even look at me, turning her head away every time I glanced over. I had some trouble focusing on my schoolwork. It always felt like someone was staring at me, but no matter how many times I swung my head around, there was nobody. The girl with the pink sweater didn't seem to notice, focused on her schoolwork.  


Then, lunch came. I grabbed my lunchbox, navigating my way through the sea of students until I finally reached the cafeteria. The stranger had a place to sit, talking to some other kids like he knew them all his life. I sat at my table, eating quietly. For once, there was room for everyone. But sitting next to people didnt help when they have friends of their own. The half hour passed, and back to class it was. I went to put my lunchbox away when I saw it. 
Someone had found my extra box of band-aids. I always keep one in my backpack just in case I run out. The box was gone, and all the band-aids were cut up and stuck onto my backpack. The rainbow of colors, ones that were once beautiful and comforting, were now destroyed. I could hear snickers behind me as I stared at my backpack. The electric blue didnt hide any of them. 
The friend didn't bother to help me. She was far anyways, packing up her own stuff. I felt a lump grow in my throat, hot tears threatening to fall down my face. Taking a deep breath, I packed up as fast as I could and ran to class. The teacher was busy writing the lesson on the board as I slid into my seat.  


I could barely do my work. I couldn't wait to get out of school, the minutes seemed more like hours. Every once in a while, I hear snickers from behind me. I heard a new nickname. Band-Aid Baby. I was now Band-Aid Baby, and all I did was try to help someone. But the mad girl, she didn't do this. She didn't stick those band-aids on my backpack, I know she didn't. She was mad, maybe, but not mean. Well, not as mean as some other students. But I didn't hear her laugh. 
Finally, the day was done. I ran out of school as fast as I could, keeping my head down. My hood helped block out a few of their taunts, walking to the car. My dad was inside, casting me a worried look. 
"Tough day?" He asked, starting to pull out of the parking lot. I just nodded, starting to peel the broken band-aids off my book bag. It hurt to see the colors I loved strewn about. Dad looked back at me, his lips pursed. "You alright back there?" 
"Fine. I'm fine," I muttered, tossing the last band-aid away. I don't want him to waste his band-aids on me.