Silence

Chapter 8 - Cuts and Memories

"Oh my gosh!! He asked you for your number?" Lauren exclaims in a whisper after reading the note that I passed to her.

I nod my head even though that is exactly what I wrote. I hand her my phone to show her the heart by his name, and take back the paper I was writing on.

He put his name in for me, I write and then pass it back to her when our chemistry teacher turns around.

She gushes a little longer before saying, "I"m so happy for you, Emma."

I write "y?" on my hand.

"Because there is a guy who likes you, not to mention a hot guy. And don't even try to deny that he doesn't like you, because he does. And I think that you like him back," she whispers.

I feel my cheeks heat up when she says that I like him back. Do I? I don't really know how it feels to like somebody so I have nothing to compare it to.

The bell rings and we start walking to our fifth period class.

I take out my phone. At school we usually communicate by me texting her, and then she answers out loud.

ME: did you fix everything with the guidance counselors?

She turns to me with a mischievous grin.

LAUREN: nope

ME: what happened? You have detention now?

She reads the message. "No, I wasn't late to class," she answers again.

I quickly start typing "But I thought you said--" when Lauren holds out her hand to stop me.

"I made it up so Carter could talk to you. I felt like I was intruding so I left. I'm glad that I did too, because you wouldn't have each others numbers if I would have stayed," she admits.

I don't know if I should feel bad that she thought she was intruding, or feel great because of how much of an amazing friend she is. She probably left from our table and went sit by herself somewhere.

I turn to face her and smile an appreciative grin.

"Your welcome," she teases. She studies me for a minute longer before glancing at the time on her phone. "C'mon, we're ditching 5th period," she says while pulling on my arm to follow her. I try to protest, but she ignores it.

She does this once or twice every school year when she is desperate to talk to me.

She brings me to the track behind school where we crouch under the bleachers because the boys physical education class is out here.

"So, what's going on with you two?" she whispers.

"I don't know," I whisper back. I shiver a little from the nerves. I hate talking here. I think about it for a minute. Does he like me? I think I like him. He is probably only talking to me to get me to talk. I'll crack and say something and then he will forget about me and become so popular for breaking the quiet girl.

"No," she says, shaking her head as if reading my mind. "No. He does like you. I can tell that you are denying it in your head right now. You're probably thinking of all of the reasons why he keeps talking to you. Here is the reason, Emma, he likes you. I can tell by the way he looks at you," she persuades me.

I hear a whistle blow and reach up to grab a metal beam to lift myself up. I look up and see that it was just the coach blowing his whistle for the guys on the field to play football. I watch about three guys in the distance hitting a volleyball back and forth. Then I see someone running on the track.

He turns and I catch his familiar face from this far away. It takes me by surprise and I jerk my hand back from the bar. I feel a sharp piece of metal nick my fingertip. I look down and feel shocked somehow. I feel myself grow scared and I see Lauren's mouth moving, saying my name, but I don't hear her. Why am I scared? It is just a tiny little cut. I feel my eyes close and my body falling into the cool grass.

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"No, please," someone whispers. It is the voice of a scared child. She is about five years old and is crouching in the corner of a dark room. A dark, shadowy figure approaches her.

"What did I say?" The figure is a man. "I said to be quiet," he answers himself, his voice is full of anger as he slowly leans towards her.

"I didn't say anything," she whispers back, but he slaps her across her tiny face.

"I told you not to tell her," he says louder this time.

"I didn't tell her," she whispers as tears roll down her cheeks. Her body is shaking and she's pressed against the wall.

"Good, but I still need to remind you that you must NEVER tell her," he whispers. She shuts her eyes and her breathing quickens.

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small but sharp knife. He grabs her small, pale hand and yanks it toward her. She is trying not to make any noise but I hear a tiny gasp escape her lips. He straightens out her fingers and puts the blade of the knife even with her fingertips.

The slightest move comes from his hand, and a drop of the little girls blood falls to the floor.

Her eyes are clenching tightly together as he slices every fingertip, but she doesn't say anything. She must know that if she speaks it will be worse.

He finishes both hands and then wipes his knife clean. "You'd better not tell her, or this will be much worse," he says as he stands up. "Don't say anything," he whispers and then walks away.

The little girl opens her eyes but keeps her head down. She reaches on the floor and grabs a filthy rag to press onto her bloody fingertips. She finishes cleaning and then looks up at the door that the man just left through. A single tear finishes its way down her cheek, and her eyes are a shocking blue-grey.