Writer's Block

I have intense writer’s block. I’m just writing down random things that come to my head, hoping that the familiar scratching sound of pencil on paper will help generate the creative part of my brain again. When my little problem goes away, I will write about the tears on my sister’s face this morning. I’ll explain how I didn’t know that those tears weren’t just a result of being scolded, they were also linked a greater, deeper- running issue. I’ll write about her being a loner in her class, about her strange clothes and weird hairdos. I just thought she was going through a phase! I thought she was like me, at ten years old, I was exactly like that. Because of that free-willed attitude, I was bullied in the fourth grade, and the fifth too.
When I can write again, I’ll tell you why I was constantly criticizing her, and making fun of her, and telling my sister I was embarrassed of her. I’ll tell you that I didn’t want her to turn out like me. You’ll see tears on the paper, tears of remorse, tears of sadness. Tears like my sister’s. Maybe my enormous guilt is causing my writer’s block. Maybe it’s because I just found out she has a mental problem. That she can’t keep her eyes from moving all around. That she can’t be normal. And that she’s shattered because she thinks I hate her. I’ll also tell you how I’m planning on making it up to her, and how I’m going to help her all I can, and how I’m going to make a huge effort to show her that I love her.
I can’t tell you this now, of course, because like I said, I have intense writer’s block.