Mine.

[Arabella]

Talk. Talk. Talk. People pressure me every day to talk. To say something. To communicate beyond head nods and head shakes. It's impossible to understand why I don't talk, because the human mind is too complicated.

They have to think everything is super complex. They think that maybe I was abused as a child and refuse to talk because I fear that the abuse will return. Wrong.

They think that I was raped as a child , and the experience traumatized me to where I don't speak.Wrong.

Some may say I have sister issues and compared to my beautiful sister I think I'm horrid. Wrong.

The human mind just can't come to a simple conclusion that: maybe I don't have anything to say.

Omniscient

Young Arabella Jersey , closed her journal and locked it. She got up from her writing desk and walked towards her personal chest . She placed the journal, along side her hundreds of other locked journal, inside. Every page of every journal was filled with her own personal thoughts. No one has ever laid their eyes on any page of her books. Many want to , that's why she locks everyone of them. They wouldn't understand.

"Bella!" Her mother's voice sounded for her.

She slipped her sandals on and walked down the stairs and down the hallway towards her mother. She stopped once she reached the kitchen.

"Hey baby . " Her mother, Melanie, said while unloading the bags of groceries. "You remember your father telling you about the house guest we were getting? "

She nodded her head. "Ok, you wanna help me with dinner?"

She nodded while walking towards the kitchen sink and washing her hands. She already knew what her mother was planning on cooking. Roasted Chicken, Potato Salad, Green Beans, and homemade yeast rolls.

Arabella grabbed the sack of potatoes and placed one on the cutting board. She grabbed a knife and began peeling and cutting.

Her mother talked to her as she washed and seasoned the chicken. Her mother would always talk to her whenever they were together. She was talking about the usual office drama.

"So, then she gone call me up to her office , asking me can I fax some paperwork to her client. I just looked at the heiffer. I had to remember I was a Christian. "

Arabella ,silently, giggled. "I tell you baby, them mofo's be getting on your poor momma nerves. " She chuckled.

Arabella could honestly care less, but she knew her mother treasured the moments that it felt like they were having a normal conversation.

"Mommy!" Arabella's sister yelled through out the house. "In the kitchen, baby. "

Her older sister, Harmonie, ran through the kitchen.

"Hey, Bell. " She kissed Arabella's cheek and hugged her mother. "How was camp?"

Harmonie had just returned from a two week cheerleading camp. It was mandatory since she was cheering in college.

"It was alright. Everybody is so fake there . I didn't even get to see Janelle any. " She referred to her best friend.

"Well, you can invite Janelle over tomorrow. "

" Why not tonight ?" She pouted.

"Because tonight is our first dinner with our house guest. And you know how rowdy you two get. " Her mother explained.

"Now go wash up, so you can help cook. "

"Ok " She turned and ran up the stairs. Harmonie was super energetic. She was always running, jumping, or just doing any activity.

In high school, she did everything. Now that she will be a sophomore in college, she's dying to do anything. Since she just can't do everything the college campus offers because she has to focus on her school work, this entire summer she has been doing everything under the sun.

After a while, Arabella's father arrived with the new house guest.

Everybody was dressed in day clothes. Everybody looked like they came from a very wealthy way of life.

If you met me, you would stare at me and wonder what happened to me . Why I am the way I am.

You'll be curious. You'll stare and when I catch you you'll look away or smile,sympathetically. You would treat me like the special child. You would act like I'm an adolescent child. You'll be extremely cautious around me.

That's dumb and ignorant on your part.

I'm not slow.

I'm not stupid.

I know what I'm doing.

I can handle my self.

Since when does not speaking mean you can't cater to your own needs?

It doesn't.

So don't treat me that way.

You think, you know everything.

Everybody does when they get around me. My silent presence , unknowingly, empowers everyone who comes in contact with me.

It's the same feeling you get when you're around a two year old.

"I know better, and you don't. I. Know. More "

Everybody is empowered around any one younger. Or in my case, any one who doesn't talk.

So, in conclusion, I know.

"What do you know?" You ask.

I know more than you think, and it's just a matter of time before I tell.