Brenton Thwaites Imagines

Silent Isn't Always Shy

"Aww look!! The mute can read." I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. "Do you want to say something Mrs. Silence??" Taylor taunted. Taylor was the captain of the cheer team so naturally she just "HAS" to bully everyone and anyone under her. When I shut my mouth and looked at my book she laughed her evil chuckle. "That's what I thought, Mute. The girl who can't speak."

I CAN speak I just CHOOSE not to.

"What are you reading anyway?" Asked Taylor's best friend Mandy. My book was ripped out of my hand. I jumped in protest but Taylor stepped in front of me so I couldn't get around her and grab my book from Mandy.

"The Giver??? This is soo old. And lame." She says tossing it across the room.

"You know girls," sighed Taylor sadly. "Picking on The Mute isn't as fun as picking on other people because every time it's the same reaction. Silence." They all laughed as they tossed their hair and walked away but not before kicking my book farther away from me.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

"Is this yours?" I opened my eyes to see a boy with brown hair and matching soft eyes.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. A smile slowly made its way to his lips. "It's a great book," he said handing it to me. "It's a cool twist on the typical Utopian society."

"And what's really cool is that the Community he lived in wasn't the only one. Plus, he did all this because he realized that the Elders took things away. Yes some of them are bad like war and famine but other things are so worth it. Like happiness, joy, colors, love. It makes you stop and appreciate the little things in life. Some people think government today is too involved in our lives but if you compare it to The Community than you realize that all the complaining we do is really ridiculous. Yes, I know it's s book but it's different. Speaking of different, in their society being the same is a good thing. If someone has one difference they are shunned. And if you think about it, we aren't different. Not you and me literally but our society. People tell us not to be scared of being different yet they judge us on not being their version of us. They expect us to be perfect when in reality there is not such thing as perfect. If you say you're perfect, you are most definitely full of it. I mean..." I stopped when I noticed him looking at me funny.

"What?" I barely got out.

"I'm just surprised how much you talked," he chuckled.

"Oh," I said looking at the cover of my book like it was the most interesting thing in the world, trying to cover my red cheeks.

"Hey," I looked up as the tone of his voice changed. "I didn't mean that in a rude way. And those girls? Are jerks. Just like you said, "If you say you're perfect, you are most definitely full of it." And those girls are definitely full of something." I couldn't help but laugh.

After the laughter had died down we stood there in the now almost clear hallway, neither one of us breaking the silence.

He was the first to break it. "You know, you are really smart. You should talk more."

"I umm.... I can't... Well I can.... But I actually... Choose not tttoo." I stuttered avoiding eye contact.

"How come?" I looked up confused. Laughing he said, "Why do you choose not to?"

"Oh... Umm" I cleared my throat. "It's ummm a long story."

As if on que the lunch bell rang. "Well you have 45 minutes." Without warning he grabbed my hand and led me to a shaded table under a big oak tree. He sat down at the table and then signaled for me to do the same. After a moment of hesitation, I sat down.

"I umm.....I grew up in a group home.....bbefore I was aadoptedd and at the home everyone always spoke over mme so I justt don't." I shrugged.

"That's wasn't that long of a story," he smiled.

"Out of the whole story, that's what you got?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I think you should. Talk more," he added.

"I just.... No one listens." I said looking down at my hands in my lap. "None of the other kids did. Not even my foster parents listen."

"Hey," he reaches across the table and lifts my head up with his finger. "I'll listen." I started to tear up.

No one has ever.

"Only," oh no. "Try not to look too scared." He chuckled. "All I was gonna say is that only if you listen. We have a deal?"

"Only," it was his turn to look nervous.  "If you tell me you're name."

Laughing he smiled, "Brenton."

"Lilliana."

"Well Lilliana like I always say, "Silence isn't always shy!" He smiled.

"Really? You always say that?" I teased.

"I do now," he said reaching and grabbing my hand in his, intertwining our fingers together.