Scattered Beads

It’s a terrifying thing, being lost when you’re only about five. As you get older, it seems to come naturally. You get lost on the way to your classes, lost while driving in new places, sometimes you may even lose yourself. But when you’re five you don’t know how to pull yourself out of chaos and retrace your steps to get yourself back to your loved ones, or your baby sitter, or even your house. All you see is what you’ve lost - family, comfort, the new toy you wanted. You think that your mother and babysitter left you in the craft aisle of the toy store. You think that they’ll never come back, you’ll be alone for the rest of your life and that no one loves you, but most of all, you won’t get the bead kit your really wanted. You completely forget that you’re the one who walked away. 

My mother, my babysitter and I had went to the mall. Being a child of only five, of course it was a necessity to go into the toy store. It was the last trip of the day, the beloved toy store. The thing that I had waited for, ever so patiently, of course. It was a world of excitement and it’s a little overwhelming, but I could handle it. My mom warned me to stay by her side, and for the most part I did. But then I saw it. The bead kit. It was colorful and full of multi colored things that I would probably end up getting all over the floor, but I didn’t care. As my mom and babysitter were walking to go to another aisle, I turned around, just real quick, to look at the bead kit. I couldn't of been looking at it for very long, but time is different in a child's eyes. Suddenly, I turned around to see that I was the only one there. My mother and babysitter had left the aisle, and suddenly I was scared. 

I ran out of the aisle as fast as my five year old legs in my pink light up sneakers allowed me to run. I ran past all the aisle openings but I could not see my mom. When I reached the end of the store, I stopped, sat on the ground, and cried. Just as a nice lady was coming up to me, to see what was wrong. My mother had found me. I ran into her arms as she frantically asked me what was wrong. I asked her why she had left me, where did she go, why didn’t she love me anymore. But none of those questions had been answered. The comfort of my moms arms was all that I wanted. I stopped crying and held her hand as we walked out of the store. 

I never did get the bead kit. 

Author's Note

I need to turn this into a poem for my world poetry class. I need some help with it. I really enjoy this in the form that it is in so changing is very difficult for me. Please help, thank you.