I stared blankly at the front of the room as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Mrs. Monroe's lesson dragged on, and I more so listened than watch her pace back and forth. Its mid September, the warm weather from summer was starting to cool, and teens around me still chatted as if they didn't need to learn this at all.
I actually didn't mind Social Studies. Mrs. Monroe was a interesting teacher most of the time, and she was easy to learn from. Unlike science, social studies taught us our races past mistakes. If you learn from them, you won't repeat them.
Or repeat the class
The corner of my mouth upturned at the thought of my joke and a few people around me gave me weird glances, thinking I was crazy.
Maybe I'm just a tad crazy.
The bell sounded, signaling the end of third hour. I pack up my notes and stuff them into my backpack, standing up only to feel my foot catch on something and I crashed into the ground, wincing as fresh pain filled my body.
I took a shakey breath, and lifted myself to my feet, looking back to see my classmates laughing away. Yeah... I'm not exactly liked as one would say around here. I'm more an object of reticule. I bit the inside of my cheek and forced my way out into the hallway. Most students were heading to lunch, but I turned and made my way outside, seeing a few people messing around or eating their lunches at the picnic tables.
I was kinda hungry myself, but I didn't really have anything to eat. I made my way over to the line of trees and sat under my favorite one.
An old weeping willow.
I sighed and took out my book, and dived into the endless pages.
Books always fascinated me. One week, I was a heroic princess. Fighting for herself. Another week, maybe I was a spy hunting for clues on a secret mission. I could never tire from the plot twists and cliff hangers. It was so much better than the reality around me. Before I knew it, time was flying by.
A voice pipped up, interrupting me from my horror novel. "God look at her." Snickers erupted as I tried to ignore them speaking in what I'm assuming was whispers. They were honestly very loud hushed voices. "Does she own anything flattering? It would be nice to all of us if she wasn't an eye sore."
They burst into a fit of giggles as I calmly got out a notepad and scribbled something down, holding it up.
I'm mute. Not deaf.
They all looked at me, a little shocked before breaking out into more laughs and walking away. "What a loser."
I put my note book away and looked down at the ground.
I've been mute for nearly two years. It wasn't my choice, but every time I try to make words form, I can't even make a squeek. I know sign language, but I'm the only one here that does. I find it funny, most people here can't even remember my name. They all just decided a new nickname is what I deserve.
A balled up paper hit my head, and I looked to see a group of boys laughing. My hand reached out and folded it open, smoothing it out against my leg.
Miss Mute.
Yeah. That's what I expected.
______________
During the walk home, I dragged my feet, listening to my ear buds provide me my awesome music. But it couldn't lighten my mood. I walked up my front steps, and put my key into the lock, opening it. I didn't know what to expect today.
