February 23, 2015
I refuse to say dear diary or journal. This was not my idea. My Psychiatrist made me do this because when I go there to talk about my feelings I don't speak. She thinks it because I don't want to talk about my feelings. But that's not it, I might not mind but I can't, not won't, but physically can't. I try to open my mouth and tell her but my throat doesn't work and I feel like I can't breath. Like I'm suffocating. So I make my hair fall in front of my face and pull my knees close to me. I've been told I've been doing that for years, any time my mother talked about doing something that I didn't want to do. I can't go to the salon because of my "condition" as my mother calls is, I cut my own hair now. So I always leave it long. It comes down to the middle of my back I only trim it and let it grow out. I might cut it back if it reaches the floor. Any ways. I start a new school today, I'm scared. I am not a fan of crowds, all right I am terrified of crowds, and people. But I have tons of friends, fine all of my friends are books. We have a large library in our house. Our being me and my mom. She is alright I guess she just really likes her wine. I guess you could say we have money. We have enough that there are a lot of places that mom doesn't go that are in our house. The attic especially, I've turned it into my own area where I can get away from mom and anyone. No one knows about this place. well my psychiatrist knows now. She told me to write about whatever I want and whatever is important to me, then at the end wright one wish I have and one good thing in my life. Well the only thing important to me is to not be seen and my books. I love to read. Probably because fictional characters don't judge you. They don't notice the silent observer who is entranced by their heroic tales. I don't like the stories were the main character dies, I don't like death, . I wish someone would notice me and I would be able to talk to someone without freaking out or at least not faint, like I used to be able to. One good thing is books.-Frits' pov-
The doors opened and a woman wearing all red, including 6 inch high heels, strutted inside followed by a girl of 14 with long blond hair. Her old pumas shuffling against the carpet. Her hoodie was pulled up over her head and her hair covered what remained of her face. I looked up from my normal seat in the office. My dad worked in the office so I got to come early to school every day. One benefit was that I get to to see interesting people. This girl was definitely interesting. She kept her head down so I couldn't see her face. Since I hadn't seen her before I have decided to do what I always did to new people, I analysed her. I read a lot of mystery novels so I know how to analyse people. She was wearing lucky blue jeans that and what the person who was with her, who I guess was her mother was wearing combined told me that she was from a wealthy family. Extremely wealthy family, her mom was wearing a Coach purse. I watched as the mother walked up to the front desk were dad was sitting."Hello, I'm Mrs. Centenary, my daughter is starting here today." She gestured vaguely to the room. "I was told that I should talk to someone in the office, about her schedule. Also I will need to speak to the school nurse and counselor, about my daughter's condition." Her voice was lowered a bit when she said the last sentence. He looked back at the girl, who apparently had a condition. He guess maybe a eating condition. That would involve the nurse and counselor. The girl hadn't moved since her mom was walked up to the desk she was still standing in the doorway of the office.
"Yes, Mrs. Centenary we have been expecting you, we will need to talk to you about Wilona's previous education. She can sit over there in the chairs till we are done. You will also be able to talk to the counselor and nurse at that time." His dad got up and gestured to the door at the back of the room that lead the the conference rooms and personal offices. Mrs. Centenary pointed at a seats by the far walls while looking pointedly at her daughter. Wilona shuffled over and sat down on the edge of the chair, closest to the door and farthest away from him. Her shoulders were slumped inward, telling him that she ether was very shy or not very confident, or even just had bad posture. That theory was destroyed when he saw that her hands were shaking. They sat in silence for what seemed like for ever. Finally he was about to introduce himself to her when both of their parents, the counselor, and the nurse walked out talking quietly among each other. The counselor walked up to Wilona smiling sympathetically.
"Hello Wilona, I'm miss Childress the school counselor. How are you to day? We have your class schedule all ready. You go to literacy first then to volleyball on odd days and music tech on even days. After that you go to science, than to history, and the you have lunch, then last but not least math. How does that sound?" Miss Childress looked at her expectantly, obviously wanting her to answer. Wilona didn't move but her hands started to shake even worse. Miss Childress stood up with her lips pinched together, just like she always did when she was irritated. His dad walked over to the desk and grabbed some notebooks and a binder. They had Wilona's name on them, his dad walked back over and handed them to her.
"Here's all of the supplies you will need. Frits I know that you have literacy with Mr Ender first why don't you walk Wilona to your classroom." Frits' dad said looking at his son.
"Okay, its this way." said Frits as he stood up and grabbed his backpack. Wilona walked behind him out of the office. As he left he heard the counselor say "Poor girl I hope that she will be okay here. You said that she will need to leave early every Tuesday and Thursday, Mrs. Centenary?"
"Yes...." The rest of Mrs. Centenary's sentence cut off as the door of the office closed. They both walked in silence, Wilona walked behind him and it freaked him out. He stopped walking for a step so he could walk next to her. she still didn't say anything. He kept glancing over at her, during one of these glances he saw her take out a prescription bottle and take two pills. He could viable see her calm down. Meds, the nurse makes more sense, now but what condition has you take calming meds. He continued to think about the new development in his mystery. he followed the familiar path to Mr. Ender's room, Wilona continued to walk beside him, not saying a word.
"O so you probably want to know that we are studying poems we are going to listen to some and take notes on them. We read a few yesterday and all of last week , we read Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe, I know Why the Caged Bird sings by Maya Angelou, Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout by Shel Silverstein, Still I Rise by Maya Angelou, and Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar. Have you read any of them?" Frits asked looking over at her he could just barely see one of her eyes it was a bright green. Wilona only nodded not saying anything. They walked for a while more till Frits stopped in front of a room, on the door was a bunch of roman words on the outside of the door. "Mr. Ender is a bit of a roman nut." Frits said smiling at her, she continued to look at her feet.
YOU ARE READING
Suffocating
General FictionA 14 year old girl with agoraphobia. A dead father, a mother on the brink of becoming an alcoholic, and the weight of a terrible emotionally scar, from one event. Then they reintroduce her in to society.