The Voice Within

Chapter One: My Rotten Life

"Are you okay? Mason?" my english teacher asked as he shook his hand infront of my face.

I blinked unsuccessfully trying to hide the tears in my eyes. I was suddenly aware by how close he was standing next to me. He looked worried.

I wrote on the small white board on my desk in thick marker,"Yeah, I was just thinking about...that thing." I picked the board up and showed him what I wrote.

Mr. Martins nodded sadly. 'That thing' was what I liked to refer to as my voice.

I noticed that the bell had already rung so I packed my things and headed for the door.

"Mason," my teacher called. I stopped walking and looked at him. "Think positive. Things can change."

That was what I've been trying to do my whole life.

The hallways were cleared. I headed to my locker which I noticed someone had written in blue marker, 'Dumb---', 'Freak', and other names that are too inappropriate to mention. Great, that will take two hours to clean.

After I scrubbed my locker, I walked home and sat under an apple tree on my front lawn. This was my 'thinking spot'. I usually thought about all the challenges the absence of my voice brought me.

As you might have realized, I have a speech impairment. My life has always been a living hell since I was born. I was never able to have a proper childhood due to constant visits to the doctor to see what was wrong with me. Unfortunately, the results were inconclusive. I was once diagnosed with autism, but they called me back two days later telling me that futher testing was required. They did the same thing when they thought I had some type of throat disease...I don't know in detail.

A breeze picked up. I closed my eyes feeling the wind through my dark brown hair. I crossed my arms behind my head as I leaned against the hard wood of the tree.

When I was four, I wasn't able to participate in class with the other students. My kindergarten teacher would teach us the numbers from one to one hundred. I remember that she would hold up a number and the students would say the number out loud. The bad thing was that I could only mouth the numbers. At recess, Josh and Will would make fun of me. "Why couldn't you say the numbers Mason? You're so dumb, you know that? D-U-M-B. I'd bet you can't even spell 'dumb'!" And then they would laugh their heads off. Of course, I couldnt say anything back so I just walked away.

I squinted my eyes from the sunlight.

When I was seven, I decided to take a walk along the Credit River park. I saw a mother duck and her ducklings in an isolated part of the river. I wanted a closer look at them so I jumped my way through the rocks. On my fifth jump, I tripped and I felt a sharp pain in my right leg. I knew I had sprained it. I tried yelling for help but only to realize that no sound came out of my mouth. I wasn't old enough to my parents' standards to own a cell phone and everyone was several kilometres away. I didnt't know what to do. I was panicking and my shirt was soaked with tears and sweat. At around 8pm my family, a couple of people from my neighbourhood, and a few policemen holding flashlights found me. When I got home, I wrote on my white board about what happened and that I was sorry. All my parents said to me after that was, "Don't you ever wander off again on your own! Do you understand?" I nodded. It wasn't my fault. If only I had my voice...

'Hey Mason! How was your day?" someone said closeby. I opened my eyes to see my mom on the driveway. I signed heavily and wrote on my board quickly writing, "When's dinner?". My mom laughed at my response. "Well someone's having a bad day. Ill call you in when dinner is ready."

When I heard the front door shut, I closed my eyes again. I ran my hands over the blades of grass.

When I was thirteen, I had my first crush on a girl named Michelle. She was always nice to everyone and she didn't judge. We sat together in Mrs. Carol's english class. She would always laugh at the jokes I wrote on my white board even though they were pretty lame. Michelle was patient with me and always complimented on how captivating my stories were. I liked how she would tuck a strand of her dark chestnut coloured hair behind her ear when she spoke with me. She was the only person I had full on conversations with...but that was taken away from me due to a stupid rumour. When I arrived to school one day, people just looked at me in an odd way and steered clear of me. As I walked in the halls, people would whisper something to their friends or give me nasty looks. I realized what was happening in english class, when a couple of guys behind were snickering about how I tried to make Michelle feel sympathetic for my inability to speak so that she would let me feel her up. Michelle never spoke to me that day forward and ignored me thorughout the rest of my elementary school years.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a sunset. That's when I thought of Mr. Martin's words: Think positive. Things can change.

I picked up my white board and wrote: "Yeah right".

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Hey guys! Thanks for picking my book to read! Since it's the summer, there will be a lot of new chapters! And they will get better! Please vote and comment! Thank you! :))