1. My Name is...
My name is Leanne, Lea for short. I´m 14 years old and different from everyone else. I´m a mute, that means I do not speak at all. I can only watch and slowly drift away from society as I drown myself with other people´s words. I am trapped in a world of loud obnoxious people that can never hear my voice.
I was shaken roughly by my father, my eyes opened slowly as I rubbed my head yawning silently. I groggily signed to him.
'Good morning father.' I signed slowly so he could get every sign in, he scratched his head as he tried to repeat what my hands did. I smiled at his effort as he scrambled through random words. I shook my head and sat up walking to my dresser picking out clothes for the day, I turned my head and looked at my calendar. My eyes widened widely as I started to panic signing as fast as I could before my hands cramped up. I sat down and shook my head looking up at my father, he smiled warmly at me and nodded softly before planting a small kiss on my forehead.
"You can do this Princess. Just have them call when you feel you can't anymore." He whispered to me softly and smiled before hugging me and walking out of my room leaving me in complete silence. Freshman at Polio High. I shook my head and grabbed my usual black skinny jeans, a maroon shirt with 'Silent, but still cool' written in cursive on the front, a red and black flannel wrapped tightly around my waist, and last but not least my black converse.
I nodded as I scanned my outfit in the mirror approvingly, I was alright with how I looked, my dark brown, wavy back-length hair. I felt the ends, I needed a haircut. Just the tips. I thought with a nod as I made my way out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen. I sat in a chair when my dad gave me a small bowl of oatmeal. I smiled at him and began eating my oatmeal enjoying the feeling of the smooth grains flowing down my throat as I chewed and swallowed. My dad nudged my shoulder gently motioning to go upstairs, I knew what he wanted me to do so I nodded and hurried up putting my dish in the sink before running upstairs to my bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and spread the paste evenly over my brush, I started to brush my teeth with my right hand as i combed through my hair with the other.
By the time we had left the house, I felt more anxious than ever. First time in high school, would anyone like me? Would people hate me because I couldn't speak? Would I fit in anywhere? Where would I eat? Would anyone know how to sign to me? Would my teachers?! My anxiety got worse and worse as my dad pulled up into the school's drop-off area. He let me out and I bit my bottom lip nervously as I walked up the steps to the entrance.