Fixing What Has Been Broken

I had cried into my pillow for around a hour. I was so upset. But what bothered me the most was that my mom didn’t take my side or at least that’s what I thought. I mean she seemed concerned but not so much, not the way I wanted her to be.


But it’s over. I guess. I’m just going to clean up the pieces and throw it out. Well… Later. For now I’ll just relax.

It was only a few hours before than. It had been Show and Tell Day in my 1st grade class so I decided to bring in my favorite doll. She was an American Girl Doll, a look alike. She had the same orange/red hair (although it was longer) and she had blue eyes, just like mine. Her name was Anna ( a name which had already been given to her) and she was wearing a light pink dress that was old fashion. Anna was a lot of money, but she was worth every cent, I played with her all the time.

After I showed her to the class, a little girl (who I didn’t really like) asked if she could see her. My Doll. Being dumb, I gave her over to the little girl. And right before my doll was handed back… the arm came out. It literally came out. I was furious. Then the girl dropped her and when she was going to pick her up she stepped on her! Before I knew it, I was crying and the teacher had to help me calm down. The teacher then picked up my doll and tried to fix it. She ripped the dress.

I was so mad, but I didn’t cry anymore than I already had. I waited until I got home and went through the door, that’s when I burst into tears. My mother came over.

“What happened sweetie.”  She got down on her knees.

I unzipped my backpack and held up the ripped and broken doll so that my mom could see.

“Oh it’s okay Honey, I can fix it.”

“No it’s no-not okay!” I was so angry again. “Someone di-d this to my-my DOLL! MY DOLL! And lo-ok at it, it’s impossible to fix. It’s br-o-ken.” It was hard to talk.

“Calm down and tell me what happen, okay?”

I nodded took a few breaths and explained. Her emotions changed as I told her everything that happened. At the end I couldn’t read her emotion. It looked sort of blank.

“Well, it seems like this little girl didn’t mean to hurt your doll.”

This got me really mad. “She did it on PORPOSSE!” I could never pronounce purpose right so it sounded weird. “She is this evil and mean person. I bet she is the meanest person on earth. EVIL I tell you! EVILL!” After I ranted on some more, I stopped and looked at my mom to see if she saw where I was coming from. She looked the same.

“Why don’t you go up stairs and get into your PJ’s and sleep until you feel ready to calm down.” Her voice was steady.

I was still furious but I didn’t know what else to say or do so I stomped upstairs, slammed the door, threw my doll on the ground, and cried into my pillow. After about an half an hour I stopped crying and just stared at the ceiling for awhile.

After an hour went by, there was a knock at my door. It was Mom. She asked for the doll and I pointed at the floor. She scooped it up, told me that dinner would be in 10 mins and left.

A week past and I got my doll back. She was perfect again. She was cleaned with a newly sowed dress, that my mother made. And my mom hot glued her arm back on. She. Was. Perfect.

I guess my Mother can fix anything.

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