Now this chapter goes to yet another amazing person who is impacted my life in such a positive way. My really good friend Christina. She was the first person to read this at school and she is the reason I continued to write this. She was also my very first editor and got everyone in my grade on the Unspoken craze XD So without further adeiu.....Christina this is for you!!! <3
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That was miserable. I said to myself as I rushed out the classroom and to the bathroom. I ran to the sinks and washed my face off before the tears could fall. My tears were mixed in with the water, so I could assure myself I wasn’t crying. Even though I was.
Last year, Lee was just as mean. She was probably worse last year. I remember it perfectly.
It was the end of the year last year. We were ready to leave. It was the week of exams, and in my school, once you’ve finished exams, you can loiter around the campus. So Lee and her gang of followers were lounging in the shade, right near the bathroom. Me being oh so special, I have a schedule for everything. And I mean everything. For example:
6:50 A.M. Monday-Friday: walk two blocks to school
9:57 A.M. Sunday-Saturday: go to the bathroom
12:00 A.M. Sunday-Saturday: eat
And so on…
Anyway, I was on my way to the bathroom at precisely 2:34 pm. I guess Lee and her group knew my schedule as well as I did by then.
“Hey Emma!” Lee called. I turned towards her, not meeting her penetrating look of disdain.
Something in my mind told me to leave, to run away and hope she and her cohorts didn’t follow me.
But I stayed, eager to hang out with the popular crowd.
“You wanna play a game?” she tested, seeing if I would respond. I nodded my head, still avoiding her eyes.
“Awesome. We’re gonna throw things at the ground, and you pick them up. It’s really fun, you’ll see.” Her reassuring voice told me it would be alright. This was a simple game. I was gonna be popular.
They began to throw their change on the floor, and I began to pick it up. They all laughed. I followed and laughed too. I didn’t get it until something hit my back. Then I put two and two together.
They were throwing their change at me. I stood from the game and rushed into the bathroom, not leaving the stall for forty five minutes. If the janitor hadn’t noticed me, I probably would’ve been stuck in there for a long time.
I walked out of the bathroom right as the bell rang. Well, time for my next class: Dance. My schedule was very focused on the arts. I wasn’t the best in schooling, I was still pretty good, but I was an amazing writer, dancer, and drawer. Of course, I couldn’t sing. But maybe one day, I’ll be a good singer, too.
All three were important in different ways. They were my only form of communication.
If you think about it, I can write how I feel, just as I’m thinking this.
I can dance and have people interpret my combinations.
Or I can draw what I’m feeling.
It’s all pretty easy and an easy way to connect instead of talking.
If only someone would actually try to see my talents and give me a chance to communicate. But like that would happen anytime soon. So I picked up my things and walked alone to the dance studio.
What do I specialize in?
Well it’s simple; I’m best at: jazz, ballet, point, hip hop, acro, modern, lyrical, and just about everything else. Except for Irish step. I just can’t get the stepping and having your back foot kick your butt thing. Just doesn’t work for me.
This year, or well this semester, I’m working on jazz, modern and lyrical. It seems like a lot, but in all honesty, it’s not. One up side of being special is that the teachers don’t give me as much homework. So I just go from school to dance to painting classes.
I’m normally home by….9 pm every night. Unless class goes late. But when I’m at the class, that never, and I mean never, happens. I opened up the doors and the room instantly died down.
They all knew how good I was. I heard them talk about me all the time. I was used to being talked about. I avoided the stares and walked to the teacher, Mrs. Johnson.
“You want to know what dance we’ll be doing this show?” she asked.
She knew me so well. I smiled and nodded my head.
“You’ll be in the front of course, as always. And I was thinking this year you should do a solo in the talent show. And maybe even competition.” She grinned and patted me on the back. I didn’t flinch this time. I couldn’t flinch with her. She was like family. I loved her, even with this stupid disease.
“Class!” Mrs. Johnson called the class to order and everyone watched immediately.
“We’re doing several dances for competition.” She began, grinning at everyone.
As she began to tell us the list of dances, the door opened.
Oh crap.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken
RomanceEmma is a normal fifteen year old girl with normal fifteen year old problems. She likes boys, she loves to dance, she wans to go to the parties, you know? She wants to be the popular girl. It's kinda hard when you can't talk.
