Speechless: A Story of a Girl Without a Voice

My Past

I opened the door to see my English teacher (who wasn't my favorite teacher) already starting class. Can't blame her. I was three minutes late.

At the mere sight of me, she turned around and dashed to the other side of the room while saying in a hasty voice, "Ah, need to make a phone call!" I took my seat in the most unlit corner of the room. My classmates shuffled in their seats with anxious expressions as I walked past them with their eyes screaming in fear. I tried to forget the hatred that came to me but it was hard to ignore when it was waiting every corner I turned. 

Not a very convenient life.

But two students didn't seem to be scared of me. Brad and my brother, Oliver. Brad was a bully and a pain in the back (literally). And of course, you know the deal with Oliver. He would often protect me from bullies and hate but I didn't share many classes with him. 

After my teacher's um, for no better words, "phone call" we started with the usual lessons. English class was so boring that I would rather have jumped off a cliff than listen to this teacher lecture us on metaphors for the 9th time this month.

My thoughts gradually drifted to the first day of 9th grade. I came in with a freshly ironed top with a striped skirt that had white leggings underneath. I strolled through the halls of high school. It was a new school and I could start a new life. I just hoped it wasn't going to be the same as the life I lead in my old school. I searched for room 206 in the 9th-grade hallway. That classroom would be my homeroom class. When I found the room, I carefully walked in and tried to seek an empty spot. I decided that whatever spot I took, I needed to make sure my choice was wisely chosen, or else I would have to face the same fate I faced at my old school. I closed my eyes and chose a random spot (Whelp. Guess I forgot about the wisely chosen decision thing already) The seat was located at an empty table and I guessed others might arrive soon and I could sit there for the time being.

Others did come, but they didn't sit right next to me. They sat next to different people who I assumed were their friends. I realized something crucial. Everyone already had friends from 8th grade. I had none. I was new. I hoped at least one person would perhaps consider coming to sit next to me. No one did.

* * * * *

The teacher called out attendance and he finally reached my name. My heart pounded. I would have to reveal my ability one day or the other.

"Artemis Johnson." I raised my hand. But before he could move on to the next name, I sent a message into his mind.

"I prefer AJ."

Startled, his eyes darted across the classroom. "Who-who did that?"

"Me, Artemis Johnson. I wanted to say that I preferred AJ."

That was the first and last day that he ever taught at Ravenwood High.

Ever since that incident, people thought I had dark magic powers or something. I have no idea how humanity — especially after they figured out the Earth is round — ever thought a normal girl possessed dark magic. The world is weird. Learn this, kids it is an important lesson in the stupidity of human beings.

Anyway, I do not possess dark magic, but something that works quite (VERY) differently.

When I was young I got the power to sort of send messages to other people's minds. The person I sent the thought to was the only person who could hear the message I sent them but in return, my voice was taken away from me, causing this Mind Messaging — or what I call, M&M — my only source of available communication.

Some might think that this ability is powerful and very cool. But all it is a curse that was given without consent. A curse that I never asked for, and was given with a price.

* * * * *

I looked at the clock that hung on the wall. The big hand was at 8:29. 3 . . . 2 . . . . 1. Ringgggggg.

I sloppily forced my books into my hands and stumbled out the door. Niceeeee. Got a boring English class out of the way.

For the 2nd period, I had Social Studies and I didn't mind that class. The teacher is friendly and sweet, at least to the other students.

Mrs. Lane, who doesn't run away from me like a maniac, was sitting at her desk attending a real call. She nodded a whole bunch while saying "mhm." Though, the nodding wasn't necessary since it was just a phone call, not a video call. But for some reason, grown-ups do it all the time.

As Mrs. Lane spoke to the other on the other end, she took notes on a sheet of paper. I only had enough time to glance before I plopped down into my seat. I saw 2 words. Axel Stone.

This chapter was a little longer and I wanted to say that there will be more stuff about Axel later on.