Devoted Thoughts

Up until this year, I still haven't spoken a word. To ANYONE. My parents think it's an act of rebellion; they have no idea. They will NEVER understand. They don't know what happened that night and they never will. The only thing that saves me thoughts.


1. Devoted Thoughts - 1

The house is quiet - no sound what so ever. I put on my sweater and tie on my hightops. The mirror on the wall reveals a broken girl staring back at herself.  The girl who used to be fun; the girl that used to have best friends. The girl...that used to be happy. She used to smile and laugh; but those were old habits. She has brown, curly hair and dark blue eyes. And under those eyes are dark bags. And under her nose is her chapped lips. But more importantly - right below her the dark mark. The mark that put her in the hospital for three months. The mark that chose her future. The mark...that made her quiet. I run my fingers over the dark spot and pout, fixating my hair to hide the scar. Then that girl disappeared.

I walked quietly down the stairs and sat down next to my brother at the kitchen table. The table was quiet - not one word. I ate my breakfast quietly and grabbed my backpack from the floor near the door. With a small smile from my mom and a nod from my dad, I left the house. I made my way down the driveway, looking back and forth for the bus stop. There was a pool of kids standing next to the stop sign at the end of the street. That must be it. The cool Autumn air blew my brown curls around my face, prompting me to fix my beanie. I stand in the back of the crowd as the bus pulls up and everyone starts piling in. Upon entering the bus, people were throwing rolled up pieces of paper and little airplanes around; the bus was a mess. I find the only open seat left and sit down next to a boy who looked to be about my age. I put my earbuds into my ears and put on Pandora to 'The Script', sitting silently.

The bus arrived at the school within about ten minutes. As everyone pooled out, I ended up being pushed. I missed the first step and fell to the concrete slab. I picked up my backpack and dusted off my butt. I hate it here already. I pushed my way through the groups of people and into the school, towards the locker areas. I find my locker and put in my new combination. After grabbing all of my books, I walk around looking for my first class.


"Pumpkin, can you come down her for a minute?" My mother called from down stairs. I sighed and walked down the stairs and sat down on the couch across from my parents. I get comfortable on the couch, waiting for the lecture on how I need to get my grades up, or how I need to stop being lazy all of the time, but end up free of that lecture today. "Your father and I have made a big decision and we think it would really benefit you." She looks to make sure I'm listening. I nod my head in assurance. "We're moving." I nod once again and shrug my shoulders. "That's great honey." My mother smiles. My dad just sits there.


I walk into the classroom about ten minutes late. Everyone's eyes are on me and I feel really uncomfortable.

"Glad you could join us, Molly. Do you have a late pass?" I shake my head no and she frowns. "Well, it's the first day in a new school. Just don't make it a habit." I nod my head and she points me to my seat in the back of the room, just where I like it. When I thought this seat couldn't get any better, I look over and realize that there isn't anyone sitting next to me on either side. I feel a little tiny weight getting lifted off my shoulders. I pull out my notebook and start to take notes down off of the board. I looked up and around the classroom; my eyes stop on a green eyed boy staring back at me. He smiles and turns back to the board. That was odd.

"Mrs.Harper would you like to answer question one please?" I look up at her and shake my head no. She gives me a funny look. "Okay. It's alright."


"Why won't you talk?" My mom yelled. I didn't say a word.

"Talk to us, sweetie." My dad said." Still no voice.

"Say something." My mom yells again. I just stare back at her. "If this is your act of rebellion it's not going to work. I'm getting really sick of this behavior, Molly." She walks away, leaving my dad standing there.

He shakes his head. "I'm done trying." Those were the last words.


He hasn't spoken to me since. Our communication now consists of nods and eye rolls.

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