I nod again. She walks back toward the front of the classroom and begins talking to all the other kids while I ponder what I'm going to choose as my theme. I could do flowers.. but I want to do something new. Unusual. I want to be able to learn about it and discover new things while doing so.
After a little while of thinking, I write down on a piece of paper: LIFE AND DEATH.
It comes with a lot of options on what to do, despite being a darker topic. I can write about celebrities—like Marilyn Monroe—and different holidays within different cultures—Like The Day of The Dead—as well as what can cause deaths, like suicide. Maybe I can use it to try understand why my mother killed herself. I know it was because of me, but what actually made her do it? What was the final straw?
Besides, if I don't like it, Gracie told me that these sketchbooks only last until the end of the year, and we can pick a new topic in the new school year, if we want. She does art as an extra option, and as I sketch out ideas for my title page, she tells me her theme is the seasons: Autumn, Winter, Summer and Spring.
"I think Life and Death is interesting. There's a lot of ways to interpret that." Mrs Sharpe says when she comes back over. "You can go on your phone and search up some ideas for your title page, if you'd like."
I nod and smile in gratitude as I pull my phone out of my pocket. Despite choosing the theme, I have no clue what I'm going to do beyond that.
I search up images that have connotations of life and death, eventually deciding to write the words in thick letters, dotting the i's with skulls. I decide that I want the drawings and paintings of death to be grey and dull, while the ones of life will be colourful and vibrant.
I have the urge to send a picture of what I'm doing to my dad, but crush it. I appreciate what he told me last night.. but I'm not somebody who's supposed to be loved. I'm supposed to be alone, I always have been.
When the art lesson ends and break begins, I frown. I like art, it's where I have the most creative freedom.
I put my sketchbook into my bag and write my name on the other before handing it in. Mrs Sharpe tells me I can come to her if I ever have questions, and I nod before grabbing my bag and coat and leaving. Gracie waits for me.
"I normally go to the library at break. Do you wanna go there with me?"
I nod. She smiles. "Okay, great. There's a bit at the back that nobody ever goes to." She leads me to the top floor of the ginormous school and toward double doors labelled LIBRARY before taking me inside. I smile at the smell of books and wood, following Gracie to the back of the library, behind a bookshelf where there's a table and six chairs. She sits on one, pulling out a pack of cookies from her backpack, and I copy, grabbing my water bottle out my bag and taking a sip.
"So.. how do you talk to your family?" She asks suddenly. Quickly, she adds: "you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious."
I pull the new notebook and pack of pens that Elijah got me yesterday out, opening it to the first page. Gracie watches me as I write:
SOMETIMES I WRITE STUFF DOWN.
BUT OTHER TIMES I NOD AND SHAKE MY
HEAD.
"Cool. Is this how you'll talk to me?"
MAYBE. IT DEPENDS WHERE WE ARE.
"Okay." She says, smiling. "I—"
YOU ARE READING
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Teen FictionAmalia Romano is a selective mute. After years of enduring abuse from her step father, who has ridiculed and hurt her mercilessly, she doesn't want to talk, for fear of what might happen if someone doesn't like what she says. But then her step...
