hello, I am Martha.

This idea has been brewing in my mind for sometime now, and, i havent found the time to get pen and paper and write; Martha-Lee Jones has been mute since the age of 4, no one knows why and, no one has heard her speak (apparently). However when a new headmistress comes to Martha's school along with her son, martha feels the need to talk to this boy but how can she? Her mid is her prision and it has held her voice there for almost 10 years, but, will her prison hold for much longer or will the walls break and tumble? Is martha finally free?

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6. Robin- The House

By now everyone had heard about Martha's bruise, and I had to constantly tell people, that I knew about as much as they did. As soon as the teachers found out they called in therapists and social services etc. to try and find out what had happened to her. People were still laughing about Miss Moues and assembly, and most will always remember this day. Now sitting in fifth period bored out of my skull -as always- who isn't? Its Geography. While Mr Hawken was explaining some rather monotonous report about 8 figure co-ordinates and the like, there was a knock at the door, and, a tall thin woman with a mean looking face entered.

"Hello children, I am Matilda Banks. As I am sure most of you have heard about Martha-Lee Jones." Her voice is echoing around our classroom and in our heads, we all nod silently before she continues. " I am sure  you will understand when I say this that it is better for us not to mention it to one another, or, Martha and her family. By mentioning it you will only upset Martha-Lee and get  your selves into trouble. Sorry for interrupting your lesson sir. Could we please borrow Robin Cole?"

Mr Hawken nodded. I slowly grabbed my bags and walked to stand by Matilda, I could feel their eyes on me as I left the room. I walked quickly so as to keep up with Matilda's long legged strides. Very few words were exchanged between us, there wasn't even a hello. Matilda stopped in front of my so abruptly I nearly ran into her. We were in front of "The House". The house is where children are sent when they have been bad or if they are unable to move round school easily enough e.g. they have a broken leg. I myself have never been inside of "The House" but Matt had, apparently it is haunted -I don't believe that for one second- Matilda turned to me and put her left hand firmly on my right shoulder.

"We want you to talk to Martha, about the bruise, we heard that you and her got along well and it is easier to talk to a friend than one of us." She said.

"Just checking but, you do know that Martha doesn't talk right?" I asked trying to be casual, and failing miserably! 

"Yes Robin we are fully aware, that's why when you go in there is pen and paper on the desk. Are you okay doing this?"

"You do realize that its only going to be something stupid like, she fell over?" 

"I will take that as a yes."

Without hesitation, Matilda pushed my through the doors of the house and took me upstairs to room 15 where once again, she pushed me through the door, but, this time leaving me alone and closing the door behind me. In the room there was a table with pen and paper on, and the walls were painted with a disgusting shade of beige. Martha was sitting on a chair by the window, ferociously scribbling into her note book. I walked over to the window and sat in the seat opposite her. She closed her notebook and looked up at me from behind her lashes.

"Hey." I said trying to hard to sound happy. "sorry that probably sounded really patronizing." I smiled at her and she finally met my gaze, a few curls still hid half of her face from me, I lent across the table and removed them , tucking them behind her ear. She smiled although it did not reach her eyes.

"Will you tell me what happened?" I ask. She taps a few times on the table, it was a repetitive pattern, then it clicked, when Martha used to tap on the table, it wasn't and annoyed tap, or a please shut up now tap, it was Morse code!! I listened more carefully to the tap.

-.. .- -.. -.. .- -.. -.. .- -..

Dad.

"Your dad did this?" I asked trying to keep my voice level. Martha nodded then turned away, gazing blankly out of the window.

"I promise not to tell."

She looked at me then, staring into my eyes, before slowly smiling and nodding. She scribbled down on a piece of paper  the story we were to tell. The lie. 

We convinced everyone that Martha had fallen over and caught her face on the side of a kitchen cabinet, it took a lot of acting and perseverance, but, we eventually  convinced them. 

 

However, I still couldn't stop asking myself questions:

Why would her dad do that?

What was he lying about?

What goes on behind the closed door to Martha's home?

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