Shout

by Laurie Halse Anderson

untreated pain is a cancer of the soul that can kill you

our neighbors, massive farmers with granite hands and red faces liked to tease me by asking me to say rødgrød med fløde på which translates to “berry porridge with cream” if you say it right, it sounds like you’re choking on a furball I said it wrong for months

my nightmares repeat over and over until I pay attention, pay my respects to whatever is eating at me; one night, just as my oldest started middle school I heard a girl sobbing, brokenhearted I jolted awake and checked on my daughters convinced that I’d heard one of them, but no, the crying girl was lost in my head and she wouldn’t let me sleep because she couldn’t speak and she needed an interpreter

so I started writing in the middle of that night the stream of unconscious eventually merging with my waking self, a year of scribbling mostly before dawn

too many grown-ups tell kids to follow their dreams like that’s going to get them somewhere Auntie Laurie says follow your nightmares instead cuz when you figure out what’s eating you alive you can slay it

we celebrated writing for the kids the world doesn’t want to see