This is my entry for the Speachless comp. I haven't read the book all the way through (as much as I'd like to) so this is my take of how it is through Noah's eyes. Hope you like it!


1. Noah

Some people believe physical harm is worse than emotional. Think again. With words as your ammunition, you have complete control. You could tell a secret that should be kept 'till the grave. Or you could drive someone to their grave because of it. Because of you.


I open my mouth to speak, but I am to shocked to do so. How could she? I run out the bathroom door, clutching Alfie's hand.

"Look," I begin, "We have to get out of here. As fast as possible."

"Why?" replies Alfie, "Why should we go just 'cos some drunk chick saw us together and anounced it to the whole damn party. It doesn't mean that we have to...."

"Oh God." I broke across him. "They're coming. Start running. I'll explain later." Right now I can see those brainless jocks pushing through the crowd, their meaty fists beared. They stop to knock back another shot, then carry on down towards us, oblivious to all the dancers. There's Kristen's boyfriend, along with the guy she's always trying to hook Chelsea up with. Chelsea. No wonder she's best friends with that vulture Kristen, if the the only pleasure she gets if from spreading gossip. Yes, I saw that look on her face when she was telling everyone 'her little story'. A mixture of smugness and glee from the thrill of telling the tale that could and would ruin me, and a flicker of disspointment when her beloved Brendon didn't react the way she wanted. No-one did. I expect she wanted everyone to ask for her to give them each a step by step account of what happened. Instead they were disgusted and are coming for us.

Us. Me and Alfie. Although why shouldn't they be disgusted? I'm different to them and, try as I might, I cannot change. Maybe it would be better if...

"Did you two lovebirds really think you could get away from us?" I flinch as the term 'lovebirds' fill my ears. The

sneering mouths distort their faces. The leering figures of Warren and Joey loom over me, and I am already preparing myself for the drunken blow that will eventually strike.

I look around, my eyes silently pleading for help. Alfie lets out a dry sob. He's never been beaten up before, even though he's a year older than me.

As I turn to face them, I swear I could hear a faint cry, a girl's voice, yelling "stop!". I jerked my head to the direction I thought it came from, but before I could look a fist came smashing down towards me. I tried to dodge, but it clipped me on the shoulder. I dropped to my knees in agony, however this time someones foot lunged towards my face. This time it was bang on target. I fell to the floor, and heard a sickening crack that was Alfie's head on the concrete steps. I tried to crawl towards him, however before I could the same fate befell me.


This is written two years later. Alfie never woke up. One girl and her poisonus words caused all this. She grew up, got married, and had kids. All Alfie got was a grave. Sometimes 'sorry' is to late.

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