a short story
I am a selective mute. Strange, yes, but a choice I made with good reason....
No one really knows that reason, obviously...
I go to school just like anyone else (I just write answers and responses down when I'm called on instead of vocally)
I have conversations with my parents (I just use my hands instead of my voice)
I have friends (they just have four legs)
I haven't spoken since the third grade and people have accepted that fact quite well....sort of.
But sometimes I miss telling someone how I feel, screaming
Then one day it changed.
Before, I didn't have anyone who I thought was worth talking to
Now there's someone I'm dying to say two spoken words to.
The only problem is....
He's in high school.
I'm in middleschool
I only see him when my bus drops off the highschoolers in the morning before driving to my school.
I brought a notecard and a pen on the bus one day.
He happened to have one of each in his pocket...
And that is how it begins.