Shattered Marbles Make you Cry (starting idea)

I guess I've never cried - really cried - all but once in my life, excluding, of course, the silly childish things.

I sigh as I stare down the little glass ball right in front of me, my elbows resting on the ground, face in my hands. I kick my legs up and down, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Finally I notice the reflection of my nose in the shiny, old marble, Jennica's favorite one with the Star of David imprinted in it in orange and bright blue on red background. It's a bright-colored marble, but still kind of faded from time.

But that's okay. Jenny gave it to me, and I love it.

That time when I cried... it was 4 days after her informal, secret funeral, when I began to really notice how empty the bed beside me was, how empty the dinner table... how quiet just plain, every-day life was.

I stare gently into the soul of the marble. If it's even possible for a marble to have a soul, I see it.

Finally, weary and kind of tired, I pick up the marble and head off for my bed. I haven't cried but once, but now...

I set the frail and fragile marble as gently as possible on what used to be Jennica's bed... Maybe I'll sleep there tonight. Again. It helps me cope, to think maybe if I'd have been in bed, I would have been killed instead of her. They had no right to murder my sister...

I close the door with a seemingly loud creak and slip out of my clothes and into my nighty. It's cold tonight and, too hungry for warmth to remember that Jenny's precious marble is lying on the bed, I snuggle underneath the quilt only to hear a big crash.

At first, I'm numbed. What's happened? are my first thoughts. Oh, no... they've come to kill me, too.

But then it hits me... I've broken Jenny's marble. I realize how terrible this is, how much it'll hurt me.

I cry just two tears - my second real cry - as I jump up and sit on the bed, looking down at the floor.

It's like somebody's killed me already... I can remember the sound - that peaceful little marble shattering into a warring crash, reminding me of just how terrible life is for us Jews. The Nazis killed her body... now I believe I've killed her soul.

Mother hears me crying and rushes in. "Naomi, my baby... what's wrong?"

But then she see the broken pieces of marble strewn across the floor. She says nothing as she sweeps up the pieces into the dustpan. I almost think she's going to throw them away, but then she pours the pieces into an empty drawer of the rather ugly jewelry box I made myself once.

She hugs me, and sends me to bed, crying a bit herself.

I've cried for the second time... Who knew marbles could bring tears to your eyes, or worse... kill something inside of you.