Chloe Writes: "Always, silence."
Chloe Writes is a #GS&NS blog series featuring the work of our very own Design Assistant, Chloe Glass. From her notebook to your screen, Chloe shares her writing, photography, and art with our creative readers.
(A short story, or something only starting.)
There were so many people. They all had bright smiling eyes and showing teeth and dimples in their cheeks. They compared the length of their hair and how many jumps one could jump over their jump rope. They had inside jokes that they shared with their friends and stories of adventures they had on Saturday and Sunday. They would give each other friendship bracelets and giggle until they couldn’t breath.
She knew because she sat on the swing in the middle of the playground with her Disney princess lunch box clutched at her side. They were all around her, the familiar laughing faces, and she would watch them as if she were sitting at home with her eyes on the television. As if they were Hollywood actors and pop stars, living their dreams within their glamorous lives.
Just like the pretty girls she watched inside the screen, she was not like them. She was different and it was only expected that they would realize that. It did not surprise her that they tried their best not to look at her, and that when they did by pure accident, they would avert their eyes quickly, like she was something they were just not supposed to see. Not a girl, in her favorite white capris and pink shirt, the one with the butterfly on it, the girl who liked to jump rope and giggle and make eccentric friendship bracelets. No, they only looked at her for what she was. An outcast. A loser. Just the weirdo.
The girl who didn’t talk.
She walked with her head down, her short wispy hair would dip down in front of her face. The heels of her shoes would squeak on the rocky pavement and her lunch box would swing rhythmically by her side. She would hum quietly to herself her favorite songs, as she knew there was no high risk of being heard. This was why she now stayed away from the playground and the gravel and her classmates.
The sound of footsteps behind her would make her heart skip a beat. The noise of laughter and the feeling of a tap on her shoulder would make her stop her leisurely walk. She would turn around and see faces of those that she once saw friendly and those that once would laugh with her. She would be fooled into believing that they were planning on asking her to play. That the meanings behind their smiles were only ones of good. And she would not believe it when they began to tell her mean things.
When they would follow her around. Taunting her, teasing her, bullying her. When there would be nothing she could do to stop it.
Why won’t you talk? They asked. Why won’t you say something? They sneered. Why are you so weird?
Oh how she wanted to tell them that she wasn’t weird, she was normal, she was like them. She talked and all she wanted was for her and them to be friends. But the words would never leave her mouth. She tried so hard not to be different. Tried so hard to push these words from her lips.
The only things that would leave her were her tears.