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Isis
I watched Payne run after Lily. I never liked Lily. There's always a feeling telling me to stay away. The again, I get that feeling all the time.
I made my way to my locker and opened it. I looked at the plain brown door of my locker. Payne's door is filled with pictures and schedules. Why can't I be like that? Is it because I can't talk?
I threw my bag inside and closed the door. I felt my mouth with my hand. The mouth that opens but can't speak. The mouth I made pale to match my skin.
"Oh look! Mime's trying to find her mouth!" Someone screamed.
I turned around and looked up at a girl I knew since grade five. Her name was Maddie Sage. Maddie has been bullying me for years once she knew I couldn't talk. So she came up with the nickname "Mime".
She gave me an evil look and said, "Wow, great comeback. I'm so shaken," Her followers laughed as she continued, "Oh wait, that wasn't a comeback cause you can't talk."
She laughed and walked away, with her followers close behind. I squeezed my hands, making my nails dig into my palms. Before I realized what I was doing, I felt my right middle finger break skin.
I lifted my hand and looked at the damage. I must've pressed really hard, since there was a thin line of blood running down my wrist. I looked around to see if anyone saw and walked to class.
The bell rang just as I stepped into the classroom. I took my seat and opened my book. I looked down at my drawings. All my words and emotions on papers. I stared down at them until I had to blink. Trying to figure out where and when everything was drawn. But all the colors and pencil were mixed.
I flipped to a new page and put my pencil tip on it. I sat there listening to the teacher rambling on about her weekend like someone cared.
"Isis," the teacher said, "How was your weekend?"
I looked up at her and blinked. Then I looked back down at my paper. I quickly drew me reading on the couch and colored it black. I held it up for her. She opened the color book my mom gave me and took my picture.
She quickly looked through the book and sighed, "I wish we knew what black meant. But very good."
She handed me my picture and put the book back on her desk, "Now then, lets get started shall we?"
Everybody groaned as they got out their books and pencils. One thing I couldn't understand about people. If they don't like working, then why come to school?
A few minutes later, the vice principle poked his head in and asked, "Is there an Isis here?"
Everybody pointed at me as I blinked at him.
"Can you come with me please?" He asked me.
I nodded, grabbed my things and stood up. I followed him to the office. He gave me a pamphlet.
"I found this program that teaches kids how to talk." He told me.
I stared down at it. I never really thought of learning how to talk. I thought I was fine the way I was. How would I sound anyway? Would I have a high voice like Melissa Thomas? Or a deep voice like Bob Fern?
I shook my head and gave it back to him.
"Why don't you want to speak? You won't have to draw your feelings anymore. You'll be able to cheer your heart out at games!"
Cheer my heart out? Why would I want to do that? Our team sucks anyway. I remember Payne cheering for her soccer team. Her voice was cracking and she sounded like an old man. I don't want to sound like that.
I opened my book, drew a picture of me drawing and colored it yellow. I handed it to him. The vice principle looked it over and shook his head.
"I don't understand you," he said as he gave it back, "I don't get how you can be happy the way you are."
I shoved the drawing back into my book. I turned around and walked out. I didn't really want to go back to class. But I didn't have no where else to go.
I stopped in the hallway and looked behind me. When I knew no one was watching, I dashed into an empty classroom. I sat down at a desk that was furthest from the door. I opened my book and started to draw.
- by Violent Beckia |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/14/2012 |
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- Title: Isis and Payne
- Artist: Violent Beckia
- Description: Chapter 2 :)
- Date: 10/14/2012
- Tags: isis payne
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