THE ARCHIVES: Chapter 35


Someone has definitely been through my locker.
My notebooks—all out of order.
My little magnetic mirror—cracked.
My binder—broken like a rusty hinge.
My pens—nowhere to be seen.
But I was not angry. Just perplexed.
Why would someone do this to me?
Then I saw it
(I should have smelled it first.)
written in black permanent marker
on the rusty inside of the locker door:
Someone has labeled me
in big, bold block letters.
But I still could not summon anger.
The same question pulsed in my head,
angry and bright:
Why would someone do this to me?

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