M U T E

|| 11 ||

Knock. Knock.

"Reyna, is everything alright?" My mom's voice calls beyond the door. 

I say nothing, close my eyes, and continue to remember the past.

It was the end of first grade when it happened. After a whole year of her comments, people stopped talking to me eventually. I had a couple friends, but they started hanging out with her more. I just kept reading more. At recess, I sometimes would stay in the classroom. I had long conversations with my teacher during those times. She told me she loved my way with words and my maturity. That's the opposite of what Jocelyn told me every day. It's the last day of school, and I wanted to stand up for myself. I shouldn't have.. I should've just shut my mouth. 

"Hey, Rey-na. Gosh, can't get enough of that name. It just sounds so stupid! Your parents must hate you! They give you a stupid name, they give you ugly outfits, and gosh! Look at your book bag! I cannot believe you actually carry that around," she said to me, laughing in my face.

"No. My parents love me. I think you are the one with mommy and daddy issues. You're a mean bully! I'm so sick of you. I wish I never met you! I wish you would die, so I never had to see you again!" I scream at her.

"Did you just tell me to die?" She asks.

I did. 

"I hate you!" I scream, tears streaming from my eyes 

Then, she starts crying, "You w-want me to die?" She pauses as she's crying, "Nothing that comes from your mouth is right! Don't you realize how much your words suck?!" Her tears prevent her from saying anything more.

I did tell her that. I didn't regret it until..

*phone call later that night* 

Minutes later, after the phone rang, my mom called me into her room.

"Reyna. Jocelyn's mom is on the phone. Jocelyn told her everything you said. Did you really tell her that you wanted her to die?" Mom looked so disappointed in me in that moment.

I nodded my head. 

"I cannot believe you said that! Reyna, I'm so ashamed. Tomorrow, they are coming over, and you will apologize. You do not say those kinds of things! I thought you were better than this. You better watch that mouth of yours in the future," she told me. 

They came over the next day. I didn't apologize. I didn't say anything. My mommy was yelling at me. Jocelyn's mom looked at me like I was a stupid little kid. I guess I was a stupid little kid. I didn't talk. I didn't say one word for 3 years after that happened. I didn't smile. I didn't laugh. I don't deserve to smile, laugh, talk. I'm a disappointment. I'll keep disappointing everyone. My mouth is a dirty awful thing. It just says awful things. I can't trust it anymore. I should've kept my mouth shut then, so now I'm saving the trouble. 

I remember. Now, I'll always remember. I can't talk. Talking is wrong for me. 

I don't come out of my room. I don't come out of my room to eat, or do anything. The only thing I'd come out for is the bathroom. Besides that, I didn't come out until Monday.

* * * *

Monday morning comes along. I feel sick. I haven't eaten in 2 whole days. She's downstairs. Jocelyn had to go to my school while she's here staying with us. I'm supposed to show her around, but I can't do that. 

"Reyna, you better get out of your room today. You are not missing school!" My mother yells at me through the door. 

I hear a knock a couple minutes later. 

"Reyna! It's Myra!" Myra's voice calls. 

I open the door to see her.

"You look awful. What's wrong?" Myra asks.

I say nothing. I let her in, then open my closet. I pick out some basketball shorts (I never wear basketball shorts other than in gym) and a plain black T-shirt. Then I throw an oversized hoodie over that. I don't put mascara on. 

"Brush your hair, please," Myra tells me. 

I take my brush and quickly go through my hair with it. I brush my teeth, and I'm out the door before seeing Jocelyn. My mom is driving her to school. I hope I don't see her too much..
I didn't eat breakfast. 

"Reyna, you didn't eat breakfast," Myra points out on the bus, "and you're acting differently."
I shrug and look out the window. She didn't say anything else. We get to school and walk inside. Still, we didn't talk. She left on her way and I left on my way.

* * * *

She's in my English Class. Out of all my classes, this one? 

"Reyna?" Bryce is looking at me with concern.

I look down at my desk. My head falls, and I cover my face in my arms. I close my eyes.

Poke.

I ignore it. 

"Reyna, you're making me worry."

I stay with my head down the whole class. I just didn't want to see her. I heard her being introduced. I plugged my ears as she spoke. I didn't want to hear her. The bell rings, but I don't stand up right away. I am waiting for her to leave. After everyone is gone except Bryce and me, I get up. Bryce stands in front of me.

"Are you not going to talk to me?" He asks.

When he gets no reply from me, he sighs and keeps walking with me by his side. Before we get to the cafeteria, I turn into the library. 

"Aren't you hungry?" 

I shake my head. He joins me, and we read together. That went on for the rest of the week. He never stopped asking me what's wrong. 

When I got home every day, I'd go straight to my room, and stay there till morning. I skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

Everyday before school, Bryce would come up to me in the morning, bringing food. He would insist that I eat it, or I couldn't go to class until I did. That's the only thing I'd eat for two weeks. I haven't talked either. I haven't said a word. I started looking unhealthy, and my energy got drained quickly. Today is Monday. 

I'm sick. I don't have a fever, but I can't get up. I feel so physically and mentally weak. I have to stay home today. I can't even get out of bed. I have no energy. 

I hear a knock, then my mom enters the room. 

"I made you some pancakes," she tells me.

She hands me a plate. After barely eating for so long, it looks amazing. I don't respond. 

"Is this going to happen again? Please, don't stop talking again. I love your voice, sweetie. You were just beginning to talk more.." 

She sighs, but doesn't say more as she leaves the room. Should I eat this? I pick up the fork and take one bite. I barely can get myself to swallow it. I feel sick to my stomach. I set the plate on the nightstand. Closing my eyes, I find myself falling asleep quickly.