Ethel

Can You See Her Too?

I'm loosing my mind, obviously. There are 21 seats and 21 kids in my class. But there is an extra seat now, and extra kid. No one else notices her? Here comes the teacher. "Good morning everybody. This is...Ethel. She's new." She exclaims. Ok. I'm not crazy. Miley looks at me with a weird look on her face. Obviously she thinks it's weird, too. Ethel....that name sounds familiar. Wait..wasn't there a girl in 4th grade name Ethel who was a mute? Class is starting. I'll have to talk to Miley at lunch.

Flashback...
My names Lydia. I'm supposed to be writing about my life..but that a pretty boring thing. My life is probably the most boring thing there is. Also, I'm no writer. Which is why I'm best friends with Miley Brockton, the writer of our class blog. She told me in order to be a good friend we should try out each others hobbies. So she's trying out for a bunch of sports and I'm writing this stupid journal about my life. Let's start with a little bit about me. I'm in almost every sport my school provides, plus gymnastics for a league outside of Springer Junior High, and minus football. I tried out for cheer last week, and am hoping to get on the competition team with the popular girls like Cassandra and Jen. We are about to go pick up Miley and her younger sister Kate and go to school.

Present time:
"Today we are going to be starting a writing project. It's important that you pay attention because I'm only saying these directions once. You MUST write about something important or challenging in your life right now." Mrs. Marco, our teacher says. Great. now I have to write about that, too. I'm sure Miley's happy.

Dear Mrs. Marco,
Something important? I'm starting cheer possibly next week. I signed up this week and cannot wait to see if I got in. I worked really hard so I-

Something just happened. Ethel, the new girl, she's standing in the front of the classroom. Her hair is in her eyes, and I don't trust those eyes. No one else is looking up at her, not even the teacher. I feel like they don't care. She's pounding on a desk, but no one looks up. Did I miss something? Does it make her mad when we look at her? Were we instructed not to? I look away. Someone taps on my shoulders. It's Ethel. She looks like she's hiding something.

Dear Mrs. Marco,
Something important? I'm starting cheer possibly next week. I signed up this week and cannot wait to see if I got in. I worked really hard so I'm sure I got a good spot, that is of corse if I get in. I had to try out for baseball three times to get in last year, and now I'm the best catcher they've got. See our team gets even bigger every year, because we have so many good players we can't get rid of. They have to concert you to the high school team once you finish 8th grade, though. I've still got-

The bell rings. I grab my folders and pencil and head to the door. "That's due by Friday!" She yells to us before we leave. I don't see Ethel walking out with us. "That was weird." I say to Miley. She shrugs and we spit to our 2nt period classes.

I've finished my important writing paper. It's Thursday. I'm pretty proud of it. It's really important to me. Miley read hers to me, it's about a film she's doing for the annual school film festival. She's just creative as hell. Cassandra wrote about her boyfriend and Jen write about her surplus of money. They were all really good, and I could relate to Cassandra and Jen, like usual.

It's Friday. Finally! Turning this stupid paper in. Also the day I get to stop writing this journal. Wow, Ethel is actually here today, and everybody notices her. Were all sitting down when she gets up again. She bangs around on everything an I hear somebody chuckle. Probably Reuben, Cassandra's boyfriend. I look down, I won't stare today. Then there is a bang. Ethel drops to the ground and so does a gun and a price of paper. I look around, no one notices. Out of instinct I run to the front, making everybody stare. Now people come running for Ethel.

They took her away. I read her paper. This is what it said:

Dear Mrs. Marco,
Today I am invisable. Tomorrow I won't be. But I can never tell you that. Because you would never listen. I am a voice with no soul, drifting through the air. Can you see me?