Resistance - COMPLETE

Chapter 7

All throughout his lesson on anxiety disorders, Dan felt his heart pound with guilt. Any time Christopher brought up social anxiety and how extreme it could be, Dan couldn't help but think of Phil and how James and Pete tortured him.

"Now mutism is a little different." Christopher began. "People who are mute have clear, coherent thoughts. They just can't verbalize it like you or me. Sometimes the problem is medical whether it's a birth defect or the mute person was in some sort of accident where they damaged their vocal chords. Others are mute because of a psychological disturbance. If someone witnesses something horrific enough, their brain needs a way to cope and not speaking is a coping method."

"So if someone had a traumatic experience that makes them mute, could they actually speak and they just chose not to?" Dan asked tapping his pencil.

"Stop tapping. Tapping implies impatience." Christopher glared.

"Sorry." Dan mumbled.

"Don't mumble. Mumbling implies weakness and insecurity." he continued.

"Right. So my question?" Dan pressed not wanting another lesson in etiquette.

"Yes. They physically have the ability to speak, but they don't chose not to. Their brain won't let them. If they were to try and say anything, it would take a lot of time with a speech therapist to get past that barrier. It is possible, but only if the patient is willing to practice. It would take years for them to be able to speak as fluently as us. Any other questions?"

"Yeah. I still don't really understand. If someone is mute from a psychological disturbance, why does that affect their talking? If anything, wouldn't they become depressed or go mental or something?

"That's exactly what the brain is trying to avoid, Daniel. By not having to worry about speech or all the things associated with it, a mute person's mind is able to deal with the imbalance."

"So if they get over the imbalance, are they cured?"

"You can't 'cure' mutism. It doesn't work like that. It's much like anxiety or depression. You can work through it - tackle it and work around it, but there's no cure really. It's a lot of work to begin talking again. It's not an overnight process."

"I think I understand."

"No more questions?"

"No sir."

"Right then. I'd like a seven page paper on mutism next week so I'm sure you understand everything. We're finished with lessons today. Go on and practice until dinner."

Dan got up and walked over to his piano beginning his scales to warm up, but he kept thinking about Phil. What hell he must have endured today while James and Pete tried to force him to speak...

"Take out Al di la del vetro by Ludivico." Christopher interrupted Dan's thoughts.

He did as he was told easily playing through the song - his thoughts not straying far from Phil. He couldn't just tell them to 'stop' like they were asking. That one word alone would probably take a few weeks - if not months - to practice! Dan's fingers moved faster as his thoughts began to fly around his head and his cheeks flushed out of anger. James and Pete are such dicks. How can they do that to a person and be okay with it? Even worse, how could Dan stand by and watch it happen. Not again. Not ever again. The next time (if there is one), it'd be different. He'd puff out his chest, march right up to them and make them stop no matter what the cost. Phil doesn't choose to be mute. He doesn't have a voice of his own, but maybe Dan can be his voice.

***

Later that night, Dan lay in bed staring at his ceiling. He'd been trying to fall asleep for the past few hours, but with no luck. Any time he closed his eyes, he saw the whole thing at the library - James and Pete tipping Phil's chair over, them destroying his book, and their cruel laughter as Phil ran away. Dan looked to the rescued book on his bedside table. Once everyone was gone, Dan pulled a chair up to the bookcase where Phil's sketchbook was and brought it down - even collecting the sheets they ripped out. He promised himself that he wouldn't go through it seeing as it wasn't his to have, but every time his eyes wandered to the book, he wanted more and more to see what's inside. It's basically Phil's mind. His brilliant, beautiful mind and if he could only have a little peek...

Dan grabbed his phone to check the time seeing that it was almost four in the morning. He'd have to be up in a few hours anyways, so no point in going to sleep now. He flicked on his bedside lamp and held the book in his hands. His fingertips ran over the smooth cover, then danced under it to begin flipping through pages. Dan's lips parted as he went through Phil's book. Everyone in class had been drawn at least once with impeccable detail. Even Phil's teachers were in there. He flipped through the pages to see classrooms, the library, trees from outside the school - basically anything that could be seen in school was drawn in Phil's book. He flipped on to pictures drawn from a part of town Dan didn't recognize, though he knew it had to be in town seeing as it was doubtful Phil would adventure much further than his home and school.

One drawing stopped Dan flipping and caught his attention. It was a large field littered with wildflowers and trees. Off to the side was a playground with kids laughing mid-slide and parents holding children's hands while crossing the road. Wherever this place was, Dan knew he had to find it. It was absolutely beautiful in Phil's drawing, but it made Dan wonder how it really looked.

He wondered if Phil drew things as they were or how he saw them. He wondered if he would draw this place more beautifully because he liked it so much or if that's how it really looked. It made him wonder what Phil was doing now. He didn't have his drawing book to calm him down now, so how was he coping? Dan tried his best to push that thought and the horrific feeling of guilt away and flip over to the next page.

It was a picture of him. On his first day right after he answered a question on interpreting Frankenstein. In this picture, he was sunk down in his seat flushing a bit. He studied the picture wondering how long it took Phil to draw this and add in all the detail. He even got the dimple in the right spot. He continued on to the next page to see another one Phil had drawn of him, but this time in trigonometry. He was stood in front of the class reciting his identities as Mrs. Schneider watched. Phil had - again - drawn it perfectly. Dan's posture with his shoulders rolled back and head held high, the wrinkles in his shirt from the way he was standing, even the little stain he had on his tie from lunch. Dan thought about the picture Phil had given him that was sitting in his backpack used as a bookmark for Frankenstein and wondered how many times Phil had drawn him. Everyone else appeared once - maybe twice - but Dan already had three, and flipped the page to make it four. This one was only a headshot and a bit of his neck drawn in. Dan shivered at the thought of Phil drawing his neck, imagining a pencil lightly sketching it in. Dan's neck was the most sensitive part of his body. Even as a baby, he'd begin to cry if his nannies would touch it while caring for him. Dan shook his head to get rid of the thought and stared at the drawing. It wasn't anything special, just him slightly smiling.

Dan doesn't know why, but his heart was racing. His stomach still twisted up with guilt for not saving Phil when he had the chance. He must really hate Dan now. Dan sighed pinching the bridge on his nose and closed his eyes. He flashed through the scene at the library again, but from Phil's point of view this time; he watched it happen. He saw the librarian pretending she didn't see anything, rolling her eyes at them for being noisy. He saw the group casually sitting around like James and Pete weren't even there. Worst of all, he saw himself, just standing there like a deer in headlights. He saw the struggle on his own face making him hate his decision even more. How could Dan just stand there and not do or say anything. He's as bad ad James and Pete - no worse. Unlike them, Dan had gained a tiny ounce of Phil's trust. He had the possibility of being Phil's friend - or at least someone he could look to for help. And he failed him. Dan looked over to his clock to see it was already 5:30 so he closed the book and put it away in his backpack to give to Phil. He did his best to push away his bad thoughts and began to get ready for the day. He'd have to talk to Phil, for sure, even though he has no idea what to say. Maybe it'll make things worse. Maybe Phil won't even want to listen. But Dan still knew he'd have to try anyways. He slung his backpack over his shoulder hopping down the stairs to get to school hoping he wouldn't fall asleep on everything.