I've never spoken. Not once. Not when I was little and not now. My parents thought it was strange. I don't know why? What's wrong with not talking?The doctor assured them I could talk if I wanted to, but that's just it. I don't want to. They never sent me to school. They thought I would get teased. I was home schooled. My friends consist of those on the internet, people I've talked to in chat rooms. I convinced my mum to let me go to school. That I can handle it. So this year. . . I am starting university.
I know there will be. . . complications, but surely there is a way to work around them. I applied to only one university and I was accepted, obviously leaving me absolutely ecstatic. I am leaving today and I have been contemplating and procrastinating all week about what to pack and take with me, for so long that I have now not packed a single thing. There is three hours until I need to leave and I still don't know what to take. Mum has reminded me at least four times so far to get packing and yet. . . I am still laying on my bed, scrolling through tumblr and watching silly cat videos.
I watch as time slowly slips away. Two and a half hours. . . Two hours. . . An hour and a half. An hour. Eventually, with only half an hour till I leave, I freak out. I grab my two big suitcases and begin throwing my clothes in. I mean, I could take all of them if I wanted, I don't have much but I only end up taking a small amount. A couple of dresses, a few t-shirts and tanktops, two pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans. The weather is warm enough still and I can buy warmer clothes later.
I put other assorted items into my other suitcase. Pictures, make up, hair dryer, curler and straightener, that kind of stuff. That suitcase ended up only half full. I put my laptop and phone into a small satchel along with my favourite book, Vampire Academy.
Dad piled my stuff into my small car. It was old and dodgy but the mechanic assured me that it would not break down on the way, or for quite a while and that if it did, he would personally come and fix it for me, free of charge. I am moving so far away, and I must admit. . . I am a little worried. The longest I have been away from my parents is two days, and that was when I went to the campus for an orientation thing.
I kissed my parents goodbye and climbed into my car. I waved before I started on my drive. I wasn't really looking forward to driving on my own, but there is no other way. As soon as I turn off my street, I plug my phone into my CD player, and play my favourite song, Brave. My friends think it's kind of ironic that that is my favourite song as it's about speaking your mind and I don't speak, but it is so catchy. I bop around in my car for almost the entire trip. It's three in the afternoon when I arrive at the campus and I go straight to my dorm. I don't know my room mate but I do have some friends here, that's why I chose this school. I would know a few people and a few people would understand my. . . situation, and not judge me on it.
I stood outside the door for a while, not knowing whether I should just walk in, or knock? I mean, if no one is in there and I knock, I'll feel silly. If I knock and they ask 'who is it?' I won't say anything? And if I just walk in, what if they are with someone or getting dressed? Eventually, I knocked and then walked in after about thirty seconds. There was no one in there, I was kind of glad yet also kind of annoyed that I would have to meet them tonight most likely, and this 'problem' I have, will take a while to explain. I pulled my suitcases into the room. It was much bigger than I had expected. I had pictured a room that was barely big enough for two beds, two dressers and a wardrobe. I must admit that I am pleasantly surprised. I didn't want to start pulling all my stuff out so instead I decided to just plop myself between the two beds and read. I had just gotten to my favourite, yet least favourite part, of the book. Tears were brimming my eyes and I knew that by the time Rose was out of the house, I would be full on crying, unfortunately, I didn't get to finish it.
I was interrupted by hearing the door open, followed by a grunt and then clothes falling on my head. I stood up from where I was sitting, shaking the clothes off then picking them up and placing them on the bed. I still had not looked at the person who was obviously my room mate but I could feel their eyes on me.
Slowly I looked up and was very surprised to see a boy. . . well. . . a man? He looked around my age with curly brown hair.
"Who are you?" he almost demanded. Although his eyes looked calm his tone was strict.
I pulled out my phone and quickly started writing in the memo pad.
'Hi. My name is Zalia, this is my dorm room. Who are you?'
The man gave me a strange look but read it anyway. He looked up at me with one eyebrow raised.
"My name is Harry. This is my dorm room," he said strictly, as though I was the one to make a mistake. "See."
Harry held up the piece of paper that clearly stated that this was in fact, his room. I rummaged through my bag until I found my piece of paper and handed it to him.
"Are you serious?" I heard Harry mumble to himself. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Did you want to change?" I shook my head. "Well then. I guess we're roomies," Harry said with a smirk and a wink.
'Which side of the room do you want? I didn't choose because I wanted you to be as possible.' I typed out on my phone and handed it to him.
"I'll take the far side," He said, moving his bag to the other bed. "Hey, what happened to your voice? Do you have a cold or something?" I shook my head. "What then?"
I grabbed my phone back. 'I dunno. Just never felt the need to talk so I never have :)'
Harry looked up at me and smirked. "You will will soon."