There's nothing wrong with me, I just never wanted to speak.
I never saw a reason to, so I never did.
I'm not broken, you don't need to fix me... I just hate my own voice.
Is that so criminal?
I'm 14 years old, and currently being put into ISD for the third time today, simply because I don't talk. You'd think once was enough for everyone to understand? Yeah, no, of course not.
"Dave, can you just tell me what's going on?"
I don't even twitch in response. I don't see why I'd have to. It's their own damned fault I'm stuck like this- maybe if they'd actually pay attention to the needs of their students instead of their own pay-check, then we'd be done here and I'd be on my way.
"Do I need to call your parents, Dave?"
I flinch at that one, the smallest mention of family never sat well with me, as I never really had anyone but my brother, and even he's not around all the time. He'd probably bail me out of this, though; so I recompose myself an leave a nod.
The young counselor scoots her chair over to her large computer setup, and spends no more than a few seconds clicking and scrolling through all of the non-existent details about me and my home/guardians. I suppose she found something, because she grabs the black office phone and dials a number with fervor.
"Yes, hello Mr. Strider... This is Mrs-... Y-Yes...? Oh! Y-Yes sir, of course. Mhmm, yes, of course. I should have expected that much... Yes... Of course... Thank you, goodbye." She slams down the phone with a shaken sigh and looks me in the eye from behind my aviators.
"Your brother has informed me of... Your various difficulties... I apologize for all of this trouble... I'll email your teachers right away. Thank you for your time..." The now frazzled woman jots something down on a pink slip and hands it to me. "Now get back to class."
I smirk, grabbing the paper and striding out of the office calmly. On my way out I pass by the secretary of general affairs, who shoots me a light wave. I casually remark with a nod of the head.
I make my way down the white and grey halls of the highschool. Who'd have known that a freshman would have this much trouble for doing nothing incorrect? It must be hell for the normal
kids. The empty upstairs halls lightly echo my cheap carpet cushioned steps, making me realize just how quiet this whole place is in between classes.
I slip back into my 3rd period class, biology, passing the pink slip to my obnoxious teacher as he begins to ask if anyone else knows anything about the scientific method. I take a seat in the back by a couple of goth looking girls. One seems to be a bit taller and has hair that's much more flippy than the other, who has on a black headband and more of a bobbed cut.
"Hey cutie~." The taller of the two slides a bit closer to me, only to be pulled back by the other of the two roughly.
"No." The headband girl says calmly. Obviously unimpressed by me- tch, does she even know who I am? I run a blog.
"But Roooooooooooooosie~..." Flippy hair groans, sliding her body down the chair in a childlike fashion. Bobbed hair rolls her eyes and focuses on me for a minute.
"I'm sorry about her. She's a bit of... a child sometimes... Can you believe she's the eldest?" She says with a small smile. Though there's no way she could see through my glasses, it feels like her eyes are locked onto mine... And hers are a calm violet, strange.
Who am I to talk about strange eyes?
"Ahem, Ms...?"
"Lalonde. Rose Lalonde." Goth-headband girl replies to the teacher in a monotone voice- It's really pleasant...
"Yes, Rose, will you and your friend need to step outside for a moment?" The middle-aged man asks with a heavy undertone of loathing and general sourness... He must have been doing this for way too long.
"No, Mr. Kelvin. We'll be just fine, thank you." Again, an incredibly smooth and quick response. She must be pretty well practiced in this kind of sass. Passive aggressive and smart, something not even my level of satire could battle it.
Oh, what am I saying, of course it could.
Deciding that enough is enough, he goes back to going on and on about some beginning of school bullshit that by now everyone is sick of. It's only 11 and I'm more than sure that everyone wants to go home.
I double check my schedule, quickly reading over my lunch and when what classes start. Having first lunch, I'm incredibly happy that this underpaid idiot is finally going to be cut-off. Food doesn't sound too good right now, but the reason to have some time myself is always welcomed.
"Now, we're going to play a small game that should help you get to know the people that you're going to spend the rest of the year by... Oh, and by the way, these are you assigned seats now. So make the first impression worth-while."
Oh fuck you. That's just cruel.
"Everyone get in a small circle, leave your items at your desk, as you wont be needing them right now."
The collective of freshmen awkwardly surround the teacher, who dips back into the poorly constructed circle as soon as he deems it well-shaped enough. People shift to stand by old friends from middle-school, some talk and giggle, and others look like they want nothing to do with this place.
"Now, I'm going to go around, and when it's your turn, you're going to tell us your name, favorite movie, and the middle-school you come from, alright?"
The class gives no clear indication of understanding, but no one is bold enough to ask him to repeat. I'm a little jittery about this, he knows what's going on, but... Hey, you know what, I'll take the freebie.
People are shaky and nervous, their voices are underwhelming and scared. I wonder if I could talk better than them? My voice isn't that amazing, but maybe it's more confident than that? Person by person the line goes, and most of them give the same answers. 'Name, recent teenage drama/action, Derse/Prospit Junior High.'
"My name is Rose Lalonde, my favorite movie is incredibly difficult to place, so I believe that I'm going to pass on that, and I'm from Derse. I'm actually a year younger than any of you, so I'd suggest you be very kind." [Rose?] speaks just as calmly as before, almost sarcastic if you ask me. She's somewhat impressive... I wonder if she's interested in music? She has the perfect voice for it.
"And m'name's Roxyy~! I'm a huge fan of the Harry Potter series and I'm also from Derse! I'm Rosie's siiiiister~!" [Roxy?] slurs in a sort of over-confident teenage manner. She kind of scares me, her bold expression is almost impossible to get over... On top of the fact that she's wearing an off-the-shoulder graphic tee, a hot pink skirt, and leggings with legwarmers. The 80s weren't that awesome, but I suppose it's got some kind of value in the eyes of someone with a more refined taste.
The teacher paces to my side in a brisk fashion, obviously annoyed that he has to do this and not some kind of special needs tutor. Pushing his hair back with a distinct scowl, he begins the small announcement.
"This is Dave Strider, he's mute. I recommend that you don't push him into speaking, as there might be some serious consequences, etc, etc.. Look, let's move on."
It doesn't take too long for it to finish getting around the room, making it back to the first victim. Mr. Kelvin as I find out his name is, then lets us know that we needed to remember the names of the people around us, as we were going to play a game in which we remembered someone's name and threw a ball to them.
Are we in the first grade?
The ball makes it around to a few people with minimal interruptions, thank god. Until it makes it to Roxy, of course, who passes it to Rose; Rose, however, calls my name. I can only assume it was out of some weird need to include me that some people seem to insist on.
I wordlessly point to someone who hasn't been picked yet, tossing them the ball lightly. I guess that was kind of nice, but it's not something I should get used to.
"Do you remember her name, Dave?" The calmed voice of the younger Lalonde whispers to me from behind Roxy. I reply with a gentle nod, which causes her to smile.
"Was it Alex?" She asks, I shake my head. It was Ruby, I remember that much. "Mm... Jessica?" I shake my head again. "Ruby?" I nod, and Rose claps her hands together. Well hey, I mean, I may not talk, but I'm not stupid.
The bell harshly hits the room, causing the circle to degrade into a sea of 14 year-olds rushing for their over-stuffed backpacks to either make it to the school cafeteria for overpriced sludge, or to try and make it off campus to the Dominoes down the street.
I make my way out of the classroom, shuffling along with the frantic crowd of Freshmen and Sophomores alike down the dangerous looking concrete stairs. Barely managing to keep up with the unrelenting groups of teenagers that clog and shove around the side halls of the overstuffed commons. The 9ft. windows give off the false illusion of space and an overwhelming amount of late August sun, warming me intensely as I bob and weave through the flowing ocean of students.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I take a seat on the far end of the cafeteria, at a worn down table off by the theater and set of stairs only used by staff. I unzip the second largest pouch of my black backpack, fishing out my brown bag lunch. I dart my eyes around, just to confirm no one is looking; deciding that no one would really care, I open the paper bag with a huff, throwing the smuppet that ended up stuffed on the top into the nearby trashcan. Pulling out a turkey sandwich and a somehow still cold bottle of apple juice carefully, still looking for someone who might be watching.
Unwrapping the sandwich from it's cellophane prison, pulling it to my mouth...
"Diiiiiiiiiirk~!"
I snap my mouth closed, and put my lunch down abruptly. I tried incredibly hard not to notice that, but I could pick that name out of a crowd. There's no way that it's a coincidence.
"Rox, you really shouldn't yell."
"B-But Diiiiiiiick..."
"Oh my god."
Kamina shades, check.
Anime hair, check.
Weaboo phone charms, check.
Yep, that's my older brother.
The older Lalonde is on his tail, I'm assuming that he knows her from online or something. He just walks over and takes a seat next to me, he knows that I really don't care.
"I got the call from the counselor. You should have seen my English teacher, he was pissed." Dirk states with a chuckle, "When I came back into the room, he gave the entire class a lecture about responsibility..." He pauses, almost like he's thinking, "Dave, this is Roxy. I met her online a few years ago. She's the drunkard, remember?"
I nod with understanding, quickly signing to him that I've already met her, but I didn't know it was her. Roxy just watches carefully, incredibly interested by my expression, or lack there-of.
"Oh, you two have biology? Is this the 'cute quiet guy' that you were talking about, Rox?" Dirk says with a small smile. He was always so much more expressive than I was... I'm kind of jealous. He has the slightest southern drawl too, that's probably from us growing up in Texas though. I wonder if I have one.
"Yeah. Di'n't know you knew him though." The blonde slurs, finally taking the hint and sitting down across the table with her tray. She starts to gently eat away at her cardboard pizza, seemingly cautious of her black lipstick.
"This is my brother, and, did you ever get around to learning sign language?" He asks casually, as if they'd discussed this before. That kind of frightens me. She puts down her pizza and signs 'little' with a cheesy smile.
"Remember my friends that I told you about? The one with a deaf cousin?"
"Oh! The Leijon girl."
"Yeah! I learned it to talk to her too... Did you know that she's really into anime too?" Lalonde adds at a slightly lower volume. I know how Dirk gets about this kind of stuff, and I'm assuming that she does too.
"No, I didn't. Does she go to school here?" He responds in a rather calm way. He's now cautiously nibbling on his own sandwich, making it quite clear to me that Dirk really trusts her. We don't like to eat in front of other people, it makes us really jittery and nervous.
"I think she's a Senior, so you might see her... I miss Nep, man, too bad she's an 8th grader." Roxy says with a scowl, it's the first time I've seen her with any emotion but happy. It's kind of heartbreaking if I have to be honest. She seems like she's gone through a lot more bullshit than anyone else really needs to by her age.
"Speaking of younger girls, where's Rose? I wanted to meet her." Dirk changes topic quickly. Roxy perks up almost immediately, glad for the distraction I assume.
"She's got second lunch everyday but Thursday." The black-lipped blonde replies with a smile and a chipper tune. It almost scares me how easily she seems to be cheered up... She's pretty experienced with masks.
The conversation goes on for a while longer, but I generally block it out. I sip on my apple juice and take a couple looks at my schedule and map, placing names with classes and creating a path for me to waste the least time getting from class to class.
The lunch bell rings incredibly quickly, half an hour gone in almost a blink of an eye. I give Roxy a light wave and gather my stuff up. Next on my list is art... which is... two rooms away from my biology class...
That's just mean.
I merge into the crowd, surprised to see it thin out towards the band hall... Maybe people are weirded out by the music kids? Then I guess I'm going to have trouble. I take the stairs as quickly as effectively possible, trying not to trip on the poorly designed concrete steps. I roll down the hallway as quickly as I can without making it look like I'm trying to rush, giving off the aura of natural coolness, the likes of which cannot be duplicated.
Slipping out of the freeway of angst and iPhones, I find myself a spot in the art room. I pick a seat towards the middle of the room, the most uninterrupted out of the whole room. Checking the clock, it's three minutes away from the start of class, so I just pull out my drawing pad and start to doodle while I wait. The tapping of a cane against my leg pulls me out of the trance I'd somehow caught myself in.
"Hey coolkid, is this seat taken?" The voice is somehow high and grating at the same time. It's fascinating. I look up at the carrier, and see a rather impressive looking pair of red glasses framing some dead looking green eyes.
I shake my head, and the kid sits down next to me. They're smiling quite wide, and seem to be looking right at me. I look them over one more time, noting the cane with a dragon head, red shoes, black skinny jeans, and black tee-shirt with "S33 NO 3V1L" on it in bold teal font with red trim.
"Curious about the tee? I'm the guitarist for a local band. This is the name of it." The harsh voice speaks once more... It's high enough to be female, but brash enough to be male; and with the flat chest, I don't want to make the wrong assumption.
"You don't talk much, do you coolkid?" They ask, I nod. "That's cool. I'm Terezi." Xe says with a chuckle, "I'm blind!"
I exhale from my nose a bit louder than normal, as a way of expressing disbelief. She's recognized my nods, plain as day... There's no way that she's blind... Of course, she does have the cane, but the glasses are just a touch flashy...
"Not believing me? I can smell and taste colours, you know... And I do particularly love the colour red..." Xe growls in an almost seductive tone... It's quite interesting to listen to them talk...
"Hmm... You're mute aren't you?!" The raven-haired bind cracks, loud enough for some people in the halls to hear her. I give a sheepish nod, and move on with my doodles, trying to not focus too much on them.
"I can kinda see what you're thinking there, you're unsure if I'm male or female... Well, I'm male. If you're curious." He says with a toothy grin, shark-like teeth flashing me. "You're quite the card, coolkid, it's a shame class is about to start."
Almost on queue, the bell rings, and in comes an overjoyed woman with flowing blonde hair, trailing along with a sundress- closing the door behind her.
At least I like to draw.
A/N: This will be updated as school goes on, as I only really get to work on it at school. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. R/R?