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?


5. Robin-One month on.

It has been a whole month since Matt ran into that tree, and, things have continued in much the same way. School projects are becoming increasingly hard when we are meant to work in pairs, and I am nearly always in a pair with Martha (not that that is a bad thing). I always end up giving the class talk, about the presentation, which is really hard considering it is Martha who wrote most of it! My marks are nearly always low whereas Martha has perfect report every time! Things aren't all that bad though, I think Martha is beginning to like me, I keep catching stolen glances, from behind her veil of dark curls, and, when she knows she has been caught she turns away. Sometimes I wonder what runs through her head. Now sitting in the car with mum on the way home, I reminisce the month that has gone by, I came here with nothing, now, I am probably the most popular boy in school, I have decent grades in most subjects, but, one thing is still missing, and its her. Martha. No matter how many girls I date the conclusion is always the same, its Martha I want. In truth I have dated several girls since coming here, and every time I have kissed any girl, my thoughts always, always return to Martha. 

"Here we are." Mum said dragging me from my thoughts.

I look up at an unfamiliar house, it has the same red door as ours, but, it is nowhere near as small. There is ivy and honeysuckle climbing up the wall, and, a pond in the far corner with a fountain bubbling over.

"Mum this isn't our house." I say confused.

"I know, this is Martha Jones' house." 

MARTHA! My heart accelerates.

"Why are we here?" I ask struggling to keep my voice steady.

"I want to talk to Martha's parents about yours and Martha's pair work. It has come to my attention that your levels are dropping unlike Martha's."

Great, the first time I will ever step into Martha's house, is for my mum to have a "chat" with her parents and no doubt Martha will hate me for getting her into trouble. I get out of the car, and walk with mum to the front door where she rings the doorbell, twice. A skinny woman with blonde hair pulled back into a bun answers the door. This can't be Martha's mum, can it? 

"Mrs Jones I presume." Mum says.

"No I'm afraid, Mrs Jones is in the Living room, I am Hillary. Would you like to come in?"

As we step inside Hillary takes our coats and puts them into a cupboard of some description. Then we follow her into the Living room, where a heavily pregnant woman sits and next to her is a tall man, they both have the same dark hair as Martha, but, theirs is not curly like Martha's. Hillary coughs, and the people turn round.

"This is Mrs Cole and her son, they wished to speak to you."

"Thank you Hillary, that will be all." Mrs Jones said. "Shall we go into the kitchen?"  

We follow her into the kitchen, and the man follows us. In the kitchen, we are invited to sit down and have a cup of tea. When the gentleman turns round, I recognize his face from somewhere. But where? 

"How can we help?" Mrs Jones asks.

"It is about your daughter, Mrs Jones." Mum says slowly.

"Please, call me, Dvina."

" Dvina, My name is Rachel Cole, I am the headmistress at your daughters school, Your daughter and my son work in a pair, and it has been brought to my attention..."

I drown out of the conversation, and, look around for Martha, she isn't anywhere, then I hear it, the familiar drum beat that surrounds me when Martha plays her music to loud. My eyes frantically search the room, trying to find the source of the drum beats, finally my gaze rests on the door way, and there she is, leaning against the door frame. Martha. I smile at her, to my surprise, and, delight she smiles back. She pulls her I-pod out of her pocket, and pauses the music, before removing her head phones. Then a Low voice brings me out of my "trance".

"Martha, sweetheart why don't you give your friend here a tour of our house." 

I look away from Martha to glance at her dad, then i recognize him.

"Your Matthew Jones!" I say. Her father smiles and nods. "I have read all of your books, your an amazing author."

I look back at Martha who fixes her gaze onto me before sadly shaking her head. 

"Yes, that's me, its a pleasure to meet you. Martha, how about a tour for our guest?" His voice had turned ice cold.

Martha nods and looks towards me,  and, even I can not ignore the tension in the room, as Martha and her father exchange a glare. Martha then outs her hand out towards me, mum nods and I run over to take her hand. 

"Hey." I whisper as her hand grasps mine.

She smiles again and, the tour begins. Her house is massive! I counted a total of 36 rooms, not including, the swimming pools room! We came to our final room, Martha's. It was beautiful it backed onto the forest I drove by when I first got here, she had a balcony and and en suite, and another room which was full of instruments. As we entered the music room Martha sat down at the piano and began to play softly, it was a song I didn't recognize, I walked over and peered over her shoulder looking at the music, written at the top of the page in proud print was:



"You composed this?!" I ask, shocked by how brilliant it is. Martha nods sheepishly, as she continues playing.

"Can you play all of the instruments?" Martha nods again without a break in her playing. "Can I ask you a question?"

Martha laughs, taking me by surprise, she nods again.

"What does it mean when you shake your head?" 

Then she stopped playing, she left me for a moment, but, returned with pen and paper in her hands. Written in her beautiful hand writing was "LIAR.". I looked at Martha, trying to read her expression.

Her dad was lying? About what? Before I could ask, Hillary came in.

"It is time for you to leave Master Cole." She said steering me away from Martha, and dragging me down stairs, where I put my coat on and left with mum.


Martha didn't turn up to school the next day, I couldn't help but wonder where she was. I still had the piece of paper with her writing on, liar? So her dad was lying, about what? I tossed the question back and fourth all day, and, at the end of the day, I still had no conclusion as to what her dad was lying about. 

Today Martha did show up for school but something was different, and, I couldn't put my finger on it. We had assembly first thing, which was great because I got to sit next to Martha and miss Geography. Miss Moues was, giving the assembly, it was about make-up, then something clicked, Martha was wearing make-up! Why? Miss Moues explained that the girls in school were wearing far too much make-up, and that if anyone was wearing make-up today, they were to come up to the front and remove it in front of the whole school, this caused a cacophony of "it's not fair"s and "you can't do that"s. Martha as usual sat quietly focusing her gaze on the floor. Miss Moues pulled all of the girls to the front, including Martha. She then handed each girl a baby wipe, none of them liked it, but, only Martha refused to remove her make-up. Miss Moues, pulled Martha forward taking the baby wipe from her hand.

"Children, make-up is not acceptable school uniform, and we will not tolerate it in our school." 

Then Miss Moues turned and faced Martha, and, brought the baby wipe up to Martha's face, just as she was about to remove the make-up. Suddenly Martha lashed out, twisting Miss Moues arm and flipping her onto her back, Miss moues was lying flat out on the floor in seconds. Martha backed slowly away, holding her hands up as a sign of surrender, the teachers ran to Miss Moues aid. Only I ran to Martha. I slowly put my arm round her shoulder, and guided her from the assembly hall back to the classroom. I had just managed to calm Martha down when, Mr Williams and my mum came in. Martha stood up again and moved to the back of the class room as far away from us as she could get

"Mum, she knows she is in trouble, just give her a few minutes to calm down." I said mum nodded slowly, before tossing me a packet of baby wipes.

"She still has to remove the make-up" 

I nodded and moved towards Martha. Slowly, I gave her a baby wipe, she took it and held it in her hand. 

"Right give it here!" Mr Williams shouted, storming over and snatching the baby wipes off of me. He tried to hold Martha still and remove the make-up, but, she ducked under his arms. 

"STOP!" I shouted, as Martha ran behind me. I turned round and held Martha firmly by the shoulders. "Will you let me?"I asked. Martha nodded, slowly I took the baby wipe from her hand, she looked at me then at mum and Mr Williams.

"Okay." I said turning towards mum. "Stay here."

I lead Martha to the cloakroom and once again turning her to face me. I tucked her hair behind her ear and, began wiping away her make-up it seemed strange that it was only on one cheek. I used several baby wipes, and finally, I wiped away the make-up that covered her cheek bone, I swallowed hard. I now knew why, she had worn make up, half of her cheek was purple with bruise, something, or someone had hit her. Hard. A silent tear rolled down Martha's cheek, I gently brushed it away with my thumb, careful not too hurt her cheek. Without thinking I pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh Martha."


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