[ WP ] In order to speak a word , you must FIRST have it tattooed on your body . You can learn a lot about a person by the words they choose to say ...

Maddie sighed. Raised voices clamored, tripping over one another in an effort to claim her attention. Most were crying `` Teacher''. A few poorer children called her `` Mom'', or `` You''. 
 
 `` What is it?'' she asked. Of course they had no words to explain. Maddie stared helplessly at the brightly painted swings and slides. It was her first year as a teacher. She'd trained for years. Scrimped and saved for the tattoos. Endured the pain from thousands of words being etched into her body. With all her wealth, it was still hard to find the right one. 
 
 `` Show me,'' she said at last. 
 
 The children eagerly grabbed her hands and tugged at her. She let them lead her across the playground. From a distance, she could see a boy sitting alone in the center of a ring of children. They were silent. Watchful. 
 
 *Bullying, * she thought. He could have fallen, but something told her no one would have cared. Thomas had no words, and the others were constantly picking on him. Nothing physical. Nothing she could see, and put an end to. Children were creative. Even the richest of them had no more than a few phrases -- tatting children was dangerous -- but they did n't need words to wound. 
 
 As she drew closer, the circle of children parted, then scattered. Not too far -- they wanted to see this -- but far enough that they could deny involvement. 
 
 Closer, and now she could see why. The blacktop was decorated in sunny yellow and bright pink chalk drawings. Hopscotch and tic-tac-toe boards, crude drawings of smiling families. A few scattered words. 
 
 `` Play with me.'' 
 
 `` Jump!'' 
 
 `` Friends?'' 
 
 Against this innocent backdrop, Thomas sat in a garish, rust-colored puddle of blood. A knife lay at his side. 
 
 Maddie shouted, a wordless cry of protest. *Oh God, he's been stabbed, * she thought, racing to his side, wondering how anyone had managed to get a weapon in here. 
 
 She pushed Thomas' arms out of the way and frantically searched his soaked chest for a wound. 
 
 Maddie stared. Her hands stilled. Thomas raised his arms. 
 
 Tears slid slowly down Maddie's cheeks as she used her own blouse to wipe away the blood and ink she found there. Still bleeding. She had to put pressure on the wounds -- bandage them somehow. 
 
 Without a sound, Maddie lifted the child and raced with him into the school. Her ears buzzed, muffling the sound of the silence as she carried him to the nurse's office. 
 
 `` He's cut himself,'' she panted. 
 
 Thomas was pale and stiff, but he smiled proudly as he opened his hand. A bottle of ink. 
 
 The nurse was tutting and tisking as she bandaged the boy's arms. `` Used half his skin surface on his arm,'' she said. `` Words lost, there.'' 
 
 Maddie nodded. Brushed her tears away with her hands. 
 
 `` He'll be okay?'' 
 
 The nurse nodded. Maddie stared at the thin lines of blood seeping through the bandages. 
 
 [ Luv. ] ( # sc ) 
 
 `` Love,'' she whispered. `` That's right, Thomas. All you need is love.'' 
 
 The boy sighed, content, before passing out. 
 
 And Maddie wept. 
 
 -- - 
 
 & nbsp; 

