At her old school, Jamara (better known as Jam) was always the invisible one.

The nameless freak that never spoke, never expressed herself.

Of courses, it's hard to express yourself in a school that's dress code prohibited anything but knee-high stockings, navy blue skirt, and a white blouse. Plus a matching jacket for the winter.

Lemon Pine Academy for Girls was Jam's worse nightmare.

While she walked down the halls, she could hear the whispers;

"Look at her! Doesn't she ever talk?"

"What a freak!"

"Who's that? Some new girl?"

"What's her name? Isn't she the girl in art class?"

Because she rarely spoke, people assumed her deaf. Teachers, while addressing her, spoke loudly and over-enunciated each syllable.

She had no friends.

She dyed her long, blonde hair black, and walked with her head down.

Her green eyes following the blue and white tiles. She didn't care about anyone, or anything.

At this small, private school, she was dubbed 'Deaf n' dumb.'

But little did she know, this was all about to change.

Jam stood in front of her door, willing herself to step in.

Her home life was a living hell.

She had an abusive father, and a chicken mother that was too afraid to step in and stop the pain.

She had an older sister who didn't give a shit about anyone but herself and her boyfriend.

She had chores.

Anyways, before she could have a chance to open the door, it opened.

She saw her father standing in the doorway, scowling at her.

He had a suitcase in his hand.

She looked at him, he looked at her.

He pushed her aside, and stormed off.

Jam saw him get in his car, and speed away.

"I did love you, Dad." She whispered to the skid marks the car had left.

With her heart aching that oh-so familiar ache, Jam wandered inside, wondering if her father ever loved her.

"We're moving." Jam's mother's voice was harsh, like an old, rusty bell.

Jam just stared at her mother, blinking.

"Do you hear me? God, why don't you ever talk?" Without waiting for a response, her mother went on, "Go up and pack. We're leaving tomorrow."

Jam obeyed, scampering upstairs. She would do anything to leave this place, this school, this hell.

She started throwing clothing out of her closet and on to her bed haphazardly, but every time she turned her head to look at her bed, her notebook slid between the mattresses called to her.

Finally, she gave up.

"What the hell." She muttered.

She stood up, and retrieved her blessed notebook, and opened to a blank page.

Here. She started writing, contemplating a tune to fit the lyrics she wrote.

While writing music, Jam felt the pain she held inside spill out, staining the pages with heart-wrenching words.

"You could count the scars I give myself,

But you wouldn't see why I made them.

Can't you understand?

I'm different from you.

My life, my hell, consumed me years ago.

I trapped inside myself,

Haunted by my past, chased away by my future.

chorus

There's no way out,

No matter how far I run.

I can't escape,

This agony that dwells inside of me.

I'm so alone,

So quiet,

All you see is my outer shell.

Why can't you feel what I feel?

Count my heartaches!

So numerous, how can they all escape?

I know I can't escape."

Jam put her notebook down. This was a short song, but she had packing that needed to be done.