Speaking Without Words

Ch. 2

I looked at the number in my message bar. I deleted it. I typed it in again only to delete it once more.

"Artemis!" my mom yelled , "time for supper!"

Great, I thought, out of the frying pan and into the fire. I hated supper and, as of now, I hated boys. Well, one in particular. With an internal sigh, I shut off my phone and put it next to my very not orderly desk. I'll go through it sometime in the mid-future, I told myself contemplating my mess, fully knowing I wouldn't.

I softly padded downstairs into the house's kitchen. It was a nice and spacious room, simple counter but A-grade appliances. Connecting to an open wall was the dining room, which, was were my parents were.

I waited by the wall, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. When they finally looked up, it was my mom who spoke.

"Your food is on the counter." She replied, none too welcoming.

Recognizing my dismissal, I snatched the plate and hurried back to my room. Our relationship wasn't always like this. We used to have what we would call conversations. Both my parents knew the sign language alphabet and we used to make small talk. They would ask questions, I would spell out my answer.

For whatever reason, one day the questions stopped. At first it was a nice relief but then it became quite lonely. I'm still a person. I still want to relate to people. Sometimes.

Back in my room, I pressed play on a CD full of my favorite movie soundtracks. At school, I listens to songs with words, albeit because it makes it easier to tune out people.

I "cleared" a space on my desk by shoving things to the side and piling up others. I shoveled the toasted ravioli with mozzarella sticks into the waiting black hole that posed as a stomach.

I retyped Colin's number into my phone and sent a single word, "hi." Then I worried about if I should've said "hello" or "hey" or any other kind of greeting.

Boys cause too much stress, I decided. I finished my food and took a shower. Ugh, only the first week of junior year and I'm already swamped with work.

By the time I had finished, it was already around three o'clock in the morning.

With a sigh, I threw on my pajamas and flopped into bed




I was running. I could hear panting behind me. My foot was swollen from spraining it. I could not stop. My pursuer was catching up. I could hear the slapping of his shoes against the pavement. Damn it! I thought, pushing myself harder. I can not be caught, not again. I felt finger tips brush my back. I ran harder. I turned a corner into a dead end. "I know you're back here" a gruff voice called, "I can hear you." I tried to steal my breathing, my clothes were ripped and I was bloody. My lower region hurt from what he had done earlier. "Maybe I won't be as rough with you if you use that pretty little voice of yours to sing to me" I could hear him getting closer. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" I held the phone up. "Come out my pet, I'm not done playing with you, I haven't showed you true pleasure yet!" I couldn't help it, I cowered and wet myself. I gasped in the pain taking a piss had caused me. "Save me," I whispered frantically over and over again into the phone, "Please!" I could barely hear the woman's voice saying police were on the way. "I found you my little toy!" Yelled the 19 year old boy as he dragged me out behind the dumpster I was hiding behind. I screamed and clawed at the surrounding bricks. My beautiful, delicate, fingers ruined and in a bloody mess. He threw me down to the ground. I was writhing underneath him. "You stupid bitch, stay still!" He slapped me and I moved faster. He grabbed my arms and pinned them above my head. I could barely hear the sirens in the background. I thought they were fake until, "Damn it! You called the fuzz didn't ya! Well I got a surprise for them, don't I?" He dragged my into a standing position and pulled my sleeve down, hiding the word he had carved into my skin earlier that evening. He grabbed my hair and as the police came around into the ally, he held a knife to my throat. "They won't understand us, will they my pet?" He whispered into my ear. I whimpered and tried to break free. He pressed the knife harder into my throat. "Stay still!" I felt a sting and then cold droplets of blood. I couldn't help thinking about a character in a book called Hermione Granger. This had happened to her, no? At least to some extent. "Release the girl!" Yelled a voice from the end of the ally. "We have the area surrounded and multiple firearms trained on you." I wanted so desperately to move to them. "I guess our time is up, my pet. But don't worry. I'm not finished. I'll find you later." I was silently crying until he yelled out, "She's all yours!" As he was about to push my forward, he slid the knife into my shoulder. I screamed in pain and collapsed. He laughed and the last I saw of him was him climbing a pipe before the darkness took over.



I woke up screaming. At least, I think I did, I never know anymore. My sheets were soaked in sweat. I subconsciously ran my finger over the word on my arm. Worthless.