Silent (Scomiche)

Ms. Carmichael

Speech therapy was probably the hardest part of Mitch's week.

He had it every Tuesday. His speech therapist, Ms. Carmichael, would come to his house, helping with his speech that initially wouldn't help him at all.

She would come over and have Mitch work on one sentence each week. Last week, it was "Hello, my name is Mitch", and he had no idea what it would be this week.

She was nice, but Mitch would always end up frustrated with himself, which usually resulted in tears.

The door is opened by Mitch's mom, Nel, and his therapist comes in, giving Mitch a hug and greeting him. He smiles, mainly fake, and follows her to sit on the couch.

His mom leaves the room like she usually does, leaving them two alone.

"How have you been?" She asks. Mitch gives her a thumbs up and she smiles. "Good. Ready to start?"

"Yuh." Mitch says, the fake smile now gone.

"Let's review from last week. Hi, I'm Ms. Carmichael, what's yours?" She asks, wanting Mitch to answer word for word of what they practiced the week before.

"Hell-u. M-my nu...nem..nam-me is Mi-itch." He spits out, not quite satisfied with how it sounded.

"One more time?" She asks, Mitch nods in reply.

"Hello, m..my n-name is M-Mitch." He says, confident that it sounded better than the last. She all but squeals, obviously happy about how it came out.

"Good, Mitch! That's really good!" She yells happily. "Now, how about I ask you something and you try to answer?" Mitch's nods. "How was your day?"

"My d-do-dew...da." Mitch takes a breath, it was exhausting trying to force words out that didn't want to come. "My dua...du...uggh."

"D...a...y..." She says slowly, hoping it would help him out. He sighs in frustration.

"My d-de..da--y" he says, squeezing out the "y" sound. "My d-day has...s ban g..go..god...gew..." Another breath. "Good." He spits out.

"My...day...has...been...good..." She repeats slowly. "Put it all together."

"My d-day has be...been gewd." He says, the "oo" sound in "good" sounding a lot more like "ew". It was good enough, in his own opinion.

---------------------

An hour later, Mitch was in tears. He was frustrated and disappointed and embarrassed all at once. He just wanted her to leave now, he was done trying to speak.

His vocal cords were strained, he sounded strained and sickening. His throat burned, along with the massive head ache that came with all of this.

He had been trying a certain phrase for 45 minutes, but it would not come out right and he couldn't bare it. The word "obliterate" was way too advanced for him, but Ms. Carmichael was determined to get Mitch to say it.

Her timer goes off, indicating there session had ended. She sighs.

"You'll get it next week, Mitch. I have faith." She says before saying her goodbyes to Mitch parents, exiting the house.

Mitch's dad brings him a pain killer, fully aware of how hurt he gets after one of these. He gives him a glass of water, telling him to go upstairs and relax.

Mitch doesn't argue, laying in bed while probably texting some friends sounded more than appealing right now. He trudges upstairs, sipping slowly on the ice water that killed his throat when he swallowed each sip.

He checks his Ipad, his phone was still broken, a few missed texts from Kirstie, Avi, and Scott. One missed call from Kirstie. He checks her texts, nothing to special. She wanted to hang out, but then realized he had a session today and apologized. He quickly reply to hers.

He then checks Avi's. He was asking for him to tell him how his session went. He tells him that it was frustrating like always, and he was tired and stressed out.

Now for Scott's. His say that he wanted to hang out, similar to Kirstie's, but at different times. He didn't know about Mitch's speech therapy yet, Mitch wasn't sure he was going to tell him about it. He would say it some time, that's for sure.

He sent him a picture of a pair of awfully familiar glasses, telling him he "left" them in the car and that Scott would return them at school. Mitch sighs, he had purposely left them because they were Scott's, not his, and they both knew it.

He also knew Scott wasn't giving up until Mitch would just take them. He did think he looked pretty good in them, but Scott did look great in then as well. And he bought them, not Mitch.

He tells Scott that they are his, then settles on looking through his pictures.

The first one is a few screenshots of stuff on Instagram, one a quote, and one a funny caption he wanted to use.

The next picture is of him and Kirstie from almost two years ago. He had found it on Facebook, immediately screenshotting it. He kisses her on the cheek. They both found it funny, Mitch's hair looked like he had a bowl cut, Kirstie with long, brown hair and bangs the cut of some of her eyes.

The next picture was of Avi, Kevin, Kirstie, him, and Esther at the mall a few months ago. It was a cute picture, they sat from tallest to shortest.

Then it was a selfie of him, Kevin, and Esther at the beach when he went with everyone. He could see the waves in the background, splashing, even Kirstie and Scott photobombing.

Then it was picture of him and Scott that Kirstie took for them. Scott's arm was around his waist, Mitch's around his chest. They just smiled, nothing to fancy. He quickly clicks the heart in the corner, notifying this picture as one of his "favorites".

He continues through pictures until he finds another beach picture of him and Scott when they went in the water. Mitch looked terrified, completely wrapping himself around Scott, who looked to be laughing uncontrollably.

He laughs at his own reaction, not bringing himself to switch the picture. He liked how well he fit into Scott's arm, how they looked like they fit together. Like Scott was the missing puzzle piece, not just to the group, but to Mitch.

He looks at the glasses on his face, still round, still purple, and still sitting in Scott's car. Mitch thought is was a nice gesture, letting him have the glasses, but they weren't his so he couldn't take them.

He sets his Ipad down, satisfied at the pictures he had come across, not able to to take his mind of the sunglasses that someone very kind gave him.