silenced - m.g.c.

one.

one.

"my silence is just another word for my pain." - unknown.

i've been finished with school for about a year. as of now, i'm working in a coffee shop, earning minimum wage and in university. since i don't speak, i have someone talk for me. he watches my hands move, as i do sign language, then speaks what i signed.

i haven't spoken, to anyone at all, since the tragic accident. i don't have any support from anyone and everyone thinks i'm overreacting. by everyone i mean my family and my one friend, who only talks to me because he speaks for me. teachers at school used to try to understand but they can't, no one does. it didn't happen to them. it happened to me. and if it happened to anyone else, they wouldn't be in the best place either. it was too much for a adolescent to go through.

as an adolescent, you are already susceptible to dangerous situations, and gaining low self esteem. just for me, this accident sped the process of me, completely hating myself, faster. looking in mirrors, is painful for me. i wince at my reflection and pick out every flaw. my ugly, dull, light brown or dark blonde hair, to my short legs, and awkward, small, wide feet. there's nothing beautiful about me. there's nothing beautiful about a broken girl, who doesn't know any love.

i've been forced to see therapists but i don't speak or sign anything to them. i sit in silence and stare around the room, while they try to start a conversation.

"snap out of it roan! you have tables to wait!" my boss yells from behind the front counters. i nudge eli's shoulder to wake him up from his mini nap he always takes during breaks.

"time to wait tables," i sign to him. he nods and sleepily gets up from the couch. i tie my apron in the back and he ties the other part around my neck. then for the rest of the day, he follows me around as i walk around the coffee shop, all day, taking and filling orders.

✧ ✧ ✧

there's something about that coffee shop that draws me back. everyday i want to quit. the place is horrible, the pay is horrible, but for some reason i know i need to be there, everyday of my terrible life. i still don't know why, yet. i know there's a reason. no matter how pessimistic i am, i believe something good is coming for me. i don't deserve it, whatso-fucking-ever, but it's coming.

i feel at peace when i walk into the coffee, shop. it's like a sign that i'm supposed to be there. i don't know how else to explain it.

but.

it gives me some hope, of happiness coming for me.

. . . .

this was really fucking short i know but i just haven't updated anything in like, forever. so i decided to try and work on this.