A/N: What I'm speaking of here with Mitchie is a symptom of PTSD where the person becomes mute due to stress or another traumatic event.
I'm starting to like this Mitchie girl a lot. Talking to her is like talking to Damien, only every sentence isn't punctuated by a painful lashing. I feel like she won't judge me, mostly because she doesn't talk. I asked the Father if she ever had the ability to talk and he said that she used to speak, but suddenly stopped about eight months ago. Somehow, "suddenly" doesn't strike me as quite the right word; we've read about lots of people that have lots the ability to talk because of some traumatic incident and then some spiritual guide has given it back to them. I guess that Mitchie didn't have the same spiritual guidance as the rest of them, or it didn't work on her. It probably didn't work, because that kind of stuff never does.
It's also nice because during lessons we get to sit in the back and pass notes since she can't talk. The rationale behind this is that she won't have to disrupt the entire class whenever she has a question, just me, and no one here really gives a shit about me anyway. Which is why I'm still not entirely sure of the reason they put her with me. Do they not think I'll corrupt her with my ungodly ways? Am I supposed to learn some sort of responsibility and keep myself out of trouble? Actually, the Father's threat that I get double the punishment if I mess up with Mitchie around is what's keeping from- well, not committing the any of the Cardinal Atrocities, but not getting caught for doing them. It's easier when I have someone to, ah, write to. I ask the questions to her in the middle of class on the paper that we're allowed to write on. I'm fairly certain that the teacher knows I'm being insubordinate, but Ms. Danya has not bothered to deal with me in the three years since she sat me to sit in the back of the classroom. And the weird thing is whenever I'll write a question to her, she'll answer. Like, OK, it makes sense if it's a math question or something easy like that, but when I question the Shepherds or the Bible she gives a really well thought out answer. Half the time it defends the Bible, half the time it goes against everything in the damn book. I don't understand her very well, and it's harder to get to know her than most people because we can only communicate through notes and yes-or-no questions.
Sometimes, I find it ridiculously strange being around her because all I ever hear is the sound of my own voice. She doesn't even giggle or anything. So while I do enjoy around someone who actually uses her intelligence, it does kind of weird me out. But it's better than being with Justin or anyone else around here.
Today is the day we officially welcome Mitchie into our compound. Usually people have to go through two weeks of "belief tests" before they can be an actual part of our compound, but since Mitchie came from Cascadia she just has to hang around for two weeks without getting in trouble. If they saw half the stuff we were writing, she would've been in lots of trouble. And side note- in case you're wondering what a belief test is, I have no earthly idea. Anyone who's born in the compound doesn't have to go through one, though I've heard it's like getting a constant beating from the Enforcers and a super tough quiz on our belief system. I also don't know what happens if you don't pass; everyone whose taken it has passed in my memory.
Usually for a person's official entrance into the community they have to read a Bible passage of their choosing and our community's pledge. This is tricky when it comes to Mitchie because she doesn't speak. About half of the Shepherds wanted her official membership to stay with Cascadia because she couldn't perform the passages, and the other half wanted to lock in the High Chapel and make her pray all day for her membership. I don't really know which one I'd prefer if it was me- I mean, what does it matter if you're part of Cascadia or Havenwood? It's the same creepy cult either way. I actually think that I would prefer the first option because I'd rather not sit in silence for a day in the chapel.
Curious as to her wants after I'd been rambling on about what I would choose if I were in her position, I finally ask her what she would do if she could choose. "Nod if you want to be locked in the chapel, shake your head if you want the weird membership thing," I say, hoping she'll respond. Mitchie debates this in her head for a few moments before giving a very slow nod.
"Ew! Why would you want to sit by yourself all- oh!" I catch myself, feeling embarrassed. I'm blushing. I know I'm blushing. It feels very strange for me to tip-toe around the issue when I'm usually so forward about everything. But I think I would feel strange to act all insensitive around Mitchie, because I know she would never act that insensitive about my beliefs. To most people that might sound stupid considering we've only known each other for two weeks, yet that's something I know as surely as I know that everything we've been taught here isn't worth a shit. I think it's just her personality- or part of the little of I know, that is. She's difficult to figure out, at any rate. But that keeps me entertained and out of trouble. In fact, I haven't been caught for breaking a Cardinal Atrocity in two whole weeks. My parents are so proud that they want to take me up during dinner to thank the Father for his brilliant idea.
Mitchie doesn't respond to my little insensitive comment. Her quizzical expression doesn't even change in the least. I feel awkward just sitting there, and I'm pretty sure things would be more awkward if I apologized since she knows I know that I made a mistake. If that makes any sense...
Anyway, today at dinner is when we'll
all be informed of the Shepherds' decision and when my parents are
going to thank the Father. Sounds like a shitty dinner to me because
of all the interaction with the Father and because I think they're
gonna make Mitchie pray all day, and I'm bound to get in trouble
without her around to watch me. Even though she breaks the rules
about questioning things all the time, she does it on a paper that
the teachers never see so she doesn't get caught. And whenever she
notices me about to get myself whipped seven ways to Sunday, she
restrains me with a casual touch on my arm or shoulder or back. It's
weirdly calming and frustrating at the same time. I'm fairly sure I'm
mostly frustrated because I haven't pissed anyone off in two weeks,
which is sort of my idea of fun. There's not much else to do around
here.
Right now, it's just after classes and Mitchie and I are
sitting on the grass outside near the forest, fairly far away from
everyone else. The first couple of days she was here, people used to
crowd around Mitchie and then they realized she was with me. It
backed them off real quick, which I think she enjoyed. There's a lot
more to her than quirky body language. I just wish I could figure it
out.
I'm busy doodling on the extra paper that we have from school. It's such a luxury to get it outside of the schoolroom; all the Shepherds agree that any unsupervised creative expression could easily result in corruption from the devil. They, of course, don't know I still have the paper. But I've always enjoyed drawing and it's nice to be able to do it without all the silly restrictions.
Mitchie's busy tying a bunch of little white flowers together in a circle. I have no clue what that is, though she seems to be enjoying and doing it with a purpose. Maybe it's a religious symbol that I never paid attention to. Or maybe she's crazier than I thought.
"What's that?" I finally ask, pointing to the circle. She looks at me like I'm the crazy one. Then she gestures for one of the pieces of paper.
"A crown," she writes.
I'm very confused. "Aren't crowns supposed to be all regal and important?"
She smiles and looks like she wants to laugh but can't quite manage it. "This one isn't. It's just for fun," are the next words I see written on the paper in her adorably loopy handwriting.
"Are you going to wear it?" I think it would look very pretty on her, a sort of commentary on her very simple nature.
"No. YOU are." I read the words on the paper, feeling suddenly strange. I'm not a crown person or a flower person and would normally have shied away from such an overtly feminine sort of deal. But because Mitchie had made it for me, it seemed a little less strange.
I shrug in a non-convincing way. "OK." She lets her smile drop into a look of concentration as she ties the last knot together and delicately admires the flowers on my head. I can't say I'm extremely fond of flower crowns, but I am extremely fond of the wide grin that appears on her face when I put it on. "You like it?" She nods vigorously, and it appears as though her breathe has almost been literally taken away by me in the crown. Her admiration makes me feel slightly embarrassed, probably because the only thing I'm used to receiving around here is contempt.
Uncomfortable, I shift to what is probably a defensive mechanism. "How come you can't talk?" I blurt out, clearly not thinking. My tact to get the focus off me is to put it accusingly on someone else. Her eyes go straight to her lap and my mouth bumbles open and closed, open and closed. "Mitchie... I... Sometimes, I just say stuff. Because I don't want to talk about me."
She raises her eyes to my face, but she won't smile; she looks at me with so much sadness in her eyes that I know that I will never believe the depths of human cruelty that caused her to be like this if I ever find out. I want to say something more, something better, but I can't find the words as the bell for evening prayer rings.
So instead I just say, "We don't want to be late." I stuff the paper into the pockets of my dress and take her hand. Together, we run up to the church.
We're not late by any stretch of the imagination, but we do draw attention to ourselves with our loud and clomping feet that hit the cold marble of the High Chapel with the force of a stampede. I rope Mitchie into sitting with me in the back instead of upfront with my family. Her family didn't transfer from Cascadia with her- or maybe she didn't have any family to begin with. Either way, it left her to be stuck with me. I don't think she minds.
At evening service today the preaching Shepherd (Todd) decides that it's a good idea to call Mitchie out on the spot and talk about God's plan for her. He claims that most of us at Havenwood don't even know her at all, which is true, but most people at Havenwood keep to themselves. He continues on to blather about her strength and how God is looking out for her.
"Mitchie Torres," he begins in an overly dramatic voice, "is the perfect example of why we should trust in God. Mitchie one day stopped talking for a reason that no one could figure out- at least, on the surface. Not a soul in Cascadia knew what to make of her sudden transformation. But then a miraculous revelation occurred to the Shepherds- perhaps Mitchie does not talk with us mortal beings because she is communing with God! Yes! Imagine! Someone within our ranks, communicating with God all the time! So many secrets within Mitchie's wonderful mind! And one day, when God decides she is ready, she will share His words with us! This is another sign that we are the Chosen! We are the Chosen!" There is an eruption of clapping when Todd ends his little speech. He gives a petite bow as he exits the stage. People all around us are standing proudly on their feet, and all I want to do is throw up. There is no way in hell that Mitchie is "communing with God" or whatever bullshit Todd is trying to spew. She was clearly traumatized- that's the way people get like this, not some imaginary asshole invading their space. Plus, Mitchie's fists have gotten steadily more clenched as the speech wore on. With all the people up on their feet, all the people cheering, she looks almost murderous. Not knowing what to do really, I reciprocate one of the gestures she uses to calm me down: cautiously, I take one of her balled up fists and place my hand over top of it. Not very much, I know, but it's enough.
