I Care (Solangelo)

Chapter Seventeen

A couple weeks passed faster than I could have ever expected.

My wall was covered with at least seventy sticky notes. All of them kept me motivated, kept me up and ready, and kept me confident.

Motivated to keep facing them.

Those people.

Anyone seeing what happens to me wouldn't take it as a big deal. Just a group of kids picking on a small brat for being mute. No big deal, right? Regular teasing, everyone experiences it.

That's not what it was to me.

Everyday, for weeks now, Connor and his group of idiots would find me on the sticky note hallway right after I've taken all the notes. They'd snap some cruel remark about my disability. Most of the time they'd give me a 'playful' punch, laugh, then walk away. They'd push me around like a game of Monkey In The Middle. They'd snatch my books from my hands and trash my papers.

To most people it would seem like a group of boys messing around.

It does damage me, though.

Everyday that happens, the same horrible, draining thoughts run through my head.

I'm not normal.

I shouldn't be here.

They're right, I should be able to talk.

What's the point of even trying with people anymore?

It's painful to go through. They don't know what it's like, not being able to communitcate properly. I can't exactly cry and scream about it like I'd like to do.

I'll put up with it as long as I can. Avoiding them would mean avoiding the sticky notes, the love I felt when reading them, the joy that flashes through me as soon as I see them. It's almost worth the pain.

So, here I was, once again putting up with Connor and his 'jokes'.

"Hey," Connor said, elbowing me in the ribs. I winced in pain. "Hey, Nico, how do you pronounce this word?" He shoved a book in my face.

There was a stupidly long silence.

"Oh wait," his face was red with held back laughter. "You can't talk!" The evil little group started cracking up as if they had just heard the world's best joke.

The word was 'rolling'. They didn't seem to care about anything other than messing with my head, so it seemed.

What happened to being friends, Connor? Why can't we go back to that? It's probably too late, but hanging out with him that one time was fun. Peaceful, even. Hearing him complain about petty problems and ranting on about how great his brother is.

I miss that Connor.

The laughing continued, it was obvious he didn't feel the same about me.

I was getting ready to punch those assholes in the face, but it was common knowledge they were much stronger than me.

So I resorted to pulling out a sticky note I'd just collected.

I can't help but notice how your eyes light up when you hear the final bell of the day. Adorable!

Building up a bit of confidence, I shoved Conner out of my way and did my best walk away from them with prideful looks. I bet if they were a card from a card game, they'd only have twenty attack power. Boom, take that!

I looked back down at my sticky note. My chest started hurting from how fast my heart was beating.

I owed this person so much. They were the only reason I've been handling Connor this well.

I can't help but smile while reading these, knowing there's someone out there putting in the time of day to make me smile.

The sticky notes haven't been decreasing, and they haven't claimed to be directed to a different person. They haven't wanted anything in return, and the person has been persistent.

They were truly spectacular.