The Silence She Speaks✔

Fourteen-Quinn

At school my project was almost done. The earth needed a bit more tinting in the ocean, and I had to redo the entire eyebrow. The struggles of an artist never end.

A lot of people had come up with ideas of what my art was supposed to mean. Some thought that it was a person who was sad about what was happening to our world. Others thought it was an astronaut who was missing home. Neither were right, though.

The boy was crying because he saw how scary the world was. He was afraid of entering the vast planet filled with pain and fear. That's why he was crying. He knew how scary the world was, and didn't want any part of it.

"Nice work Miss Sage," the art man complimented. I blushed a bit and shrugged.

"Wow Quinn! That's so totally awesome!" A girl complimented. Her name was Ella, she was very nice to everybody and she was super pretty too. A lot of boys liked her, but she wasn't allowed to date.

I just blushed more and shrugged again. Compliments always make me feel awkward. If I spoke I could say thanks, but being mute and all makes it a bit awkward. But awkward situations is better than talking about everything.

Ella had decided to paint. Some mean girls ruined her art by "accidentally" spilling paint all over it. I got really angry and I started walking towards them, but Ollie stopped me. He said those girls were bad news. I couldn't just stand there and let it slide, though.

My old friend, Taylor, was always right when he said one thing about me. I always try to be the hero. It doesn't matter who I'm dealing with or what the problem is, I'll always stand up for others and be their friends, because you never know when somebody really needs a friend. Now, after watching my brother die for me, the need to help others is even stronger in me. I want to be like Sammy in every way I can, and that includes helping those in need.

That's why I walked over to the group of girls and started cleaning up the paint, not even sparing them a glance. The mean girls scoffed and walked away, but they never went near Ella again after that. We became instant friends and spoke everyday.

Well, she spoke and I wrote. I haven't even opened my mouth since I spoke with Devin that night.

The rest of the class began to crowd around me, drawing me out of my thoughts. They all wanted to look at my art, although I wasn't exactly sure why. It's not like Picasso made it.

My next class was geography. It was a simple class and the teacher didn't really care about what we did. Mr. Wurmple is a hippie, he's a nice guy, but he didn't teach us a whole lot. He liked spreading his flower power, though. I never minded, it was nice to get a break from school work in his class. He always expressed how much he wanted us to socialize, though—something that I don't do a whole lot.

"Miss Sage, please come up to my desk," Mr. Wurmple called. All of the students turned their attention to me, making me get insanely self-conscious. I grabbed my notepad and walked up to his desk, keeping my head down. "It has come to my attention that you haven't spoken once in my class. I was wondering if you wanted to come to a special counseling session I hold after school on tuesdays."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to decline," I wrote.

Mr. Wurmple nodded sadly and sent me back to my seat.

There was no way that I would be getting anything like that. I don't want counseling, and I don't need it either. He'll just try to make me talk, and if I start talking then they'll ask about Mom. That won't do anything but keep my mom away from me longer than she has to be. It's my fault everything happened anyways, so I should be the one locked up. It's not fair.

The end of the day came quickly, and I was not excited. The Foster Lady was taking me to go and see the stupid doctors.

I hated doctors more than anything in the world. They were the ones that gave my mom all of those drugs. If it weren't for them, then we could still be together. And Sammy and I could go ride horses together.