Page 53 - Highlights 2022

A Series by Gianna DiBello '22

Pillow in a Teen Girl’s Room:

I spend my days alone, unused, wrinkled. I sit here in my permanent place and never move until
I’m needed. I feel so used and worthless, but to her I have value. I must matter but only in the
dark, and even then, I’m suffocated and smothered. As I’m stuck being crushed for eight hours
at a time and even a few hours during the day, I’m stuck thinking of how I spent my life here. I
have peace and boredom in the light, but I’m suffering and wanted in the night. Somedays I am
released from her head completely soaked in tears, and others I am laced with her stray strands
of golden long hair. How can I do this day in and day out? What’s the point? One day I will be

moved to a new home. I will either be taken to college or taken to the trash. I do not know which I
prefer: continuously abused or completely forgotten.

Mirror in a Teen Girl’s Room:

I’m obviously her favorite because she uses me twenty times a day, but I do not understand her
most days. I’m supposed to make her happy and show her beauty, but she mostly cries and
sucks in her stomach. What am I doing wrong? Am I not displaying what I am seeing? How can I
be so bad at my only job six out of the seven days of the week? However, I always have that one
good day where I show her something she likes, and then it’s not so bad. I can make her smile
and love herself, but then I can always make her cry. I never do it on purpose, and I do not

understand what I do to make her this upset. I feel so guilty and sorry for the tears I have
induced, but I don’t know what I’m doing to cause this. I hope I can figure it out because I really
like her, and I would say we’re best friends considering the amount of time we spend together.

Blanket in a Teen Girl’s Room:

I lay dormant when she’s gone keeping the other occupants of the bed company. I’m spread out
and engulf the mattress with my deep blue body. I like to think that I am pleasant to be around.
Even if I am not always wanted, I always serve a purpose. No one says no to a nice, big, fluffy
rectangle of fabric. I am one of a hundred in her room, but I am the one who is never put away.
On the coldest of days, I hug her, and she makes me feel safe. Even on the hottest day of the

year, she still acknowledges me and even holds me. I crave her touch. I don’t know what I would
do without her. She has so many others just like me that she could replace me with, but I’m
always chosen. She picks me. She wants me. She loves me. I love her.

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