just FYI, I noticed there's another story on fanpop called "Speechless." I just wanted readers to know that this is all my ideas, and the other one is completely its author's ideas. :)


Seven kids were killed that day.

I didn't know any of them, but that made no difference. I'd seen two of them shot. I couldn't bring myself to go back to school the inayofuata day. Apparently Mrs. Stueck had heard my breakdown yesterday, because she didn't wake me up for school. I stayed in kitanda for the rest of the day, despite my stomach growling menacingly at me.

Later that day, there was a small knock at the door. Amory let himself in, and slowly shuffled his feet over to me.

"I made this for you," he mumbled. "It's not good like yours, but..." he shrugged. He handed me a piece of computer paper, with crayon scribbled all over it. Drawn on it were four blond stick people, with smiley faces. Then off to the side was a brunette stick person, with a smile on it. Scribbled across the juu it alisema "owr new familee." I smiled a tiny bit at it, but couldn't say anything. "It's ok," he said. "You don't have to thank me. I know you're thinking it." He smiled sweetly at me, then ran off.

I managed to get myself out of bed, and pinned the picture on the wall. That was nice of him. For a little kid, he was very understanding.

I felt myself retreating zaidi inside myself than ever. I no longer pointed to what I needed, and I didn't even bother nodding au shaking my head. I totally tuned everyone out, and I was right back where I started. I kept myself alone completely. Even at school, where my Marafiki were growing zaidi worried.

Then one weekend, Mrs. Stueck told me to get in the car. It didn't seem like I had a choice at all. At first I thought she was going to take me back to the orphanage. But my stuff was still in my room. I pursed my lips, then got in. She talked to me in the car, but I don't know what about. I tuned her out completely.

We pulled up in front of a doctor's office.

"Come on," she said. I stared out the windshield for a while, then got out and followed her. "Stueck," she alisema to the receptionist. We sat in the waiting room for a while, then the doctor called my name. "Come on, Dear," Mrs. Stueck said. She went to take my hand, but I moved it out of the way before she could. The doctor smiled at me, and I looked away. I found this wasn't a doctor-doctor place; it was a therapist-doctor office. I sighed quietly. The doctor had me sit on a chair, and Mrs. Stueck sat in one in the corner.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Bellamont. What's the problem?" she asked. I stared at the ground, unamused. There was no way I was going to talk to a therapist.

"Well, Hecate witnessed a shooting a couple days ago. It hit her real hard, and she won't speak. Actually, she never really does, but it made her almost completely unresponsive." I hated how she spoke of me like I was a freak, au a pet.

"I see," Dr. Bellamont said. "Well, I can imagine it was very hard for her. And wewe alisema she never talks?"

"Not zaidi than a word within a couple weeks. She was diagnosed with selective mutism, but... I don't want it to get even worse." Dr. Bellamont nodded in observation.

"Well, I'll have to get to know Hecate, before we can see how we can help. Would wewe let Hecate and I be alone for a while?" Mrs. Stueck nodded and left, leaving me alone with the therapist. I folded my arms and held them close to my body. Dr. Bellamont sat a chair in front of me, so our knees were almost touching. She held out her hand.

"Hi there, Hecate." I squeezed my arms even tighter. "Would wewe like to shake my hand?" she asked slowly, as if I were incompetant. She was really starting to piss me off. So I didn't acknowledge her at all. The doctor sighed and put her hand down. "I understand wewe saw a shooting? Was it at school?" I shifted uncomfortably. "I see..." she said. "I know how hard that can be. Were any Marafiki hurt?" I did nothing.

The doctor asked me some other maswali that I refused to answer. Then she got up and left. I sat there, wondering what to do. I was considering leaving, when she came back with paper and some colored pencils.

"Why don't wewe draw something for me? Take your time." She gave me the paper and pencils, then left. I stared at the door incredulously for a while. I didn't really know what to think. After a couple minutes, I decided why not? I hadn't gotten a chance to draw for a while, and there was so much I needed to get out. I scooted the chair over to the counter, and began drawing my mind.

Almost an saa later, Dr. Bellamont came back. She smiled.

"Are wewe done?" she asked. I sat back in my chair and pushed the paper out in front of me. "May I see it?" I felt a little better now, and I shrugged. She came over quietly and took the picture I'd drawn. Her eyes widened, then appeared to grow sad. "Oh my... Is this what wewe saw?" she asked. I pursed my lips and looked at the tile floor.

Mrs. Stueck was taken back kwa my drawing as well. I'd drawn what I'd seen while I was hiding under the table. The couple shot, and everyone else frantically trying to escape the cafeteria without being killed.

"Hecate, why don't wewe go back to the room?" the doctor asked. I sighed but did as I was told. A couple dakika later, she came back with some things in her hand. She gave me a dry erase board and marker, and she had a piece of paper in her hand. "Ok, I'm going to say some things, and you're going to write what wewe think of." I sighed. How the hell do these people come up with these stupid games? "Childhood," was the first thing she said. I waited a while, then shrugged and wrote down what came to mind.

"Dark," I wrote.

"Parents," she alisema next.

"Fear," I scribbled.

"School."

"Fear," I held up the board again.

"Strangers." I kept the board up, with the same word on it. "Family."

"Ok," I wrote.

"Friends?" I held the board up again. She smiled. "People." I frowned.

"Fear."

"Drawing."

"Release."

We did this back and forth for a while. It was easy to say that my most common answer was "fear." Soon I got tired of this and stopped answering. I was even able to tune her out, and I could barely hear anything she said. Then she unfolded her legs and got up and left. Then she came back with Mrs. Stueck.

"Ok, Hecate. You're done for today," she alisema cheerfully. "You can keep the board. Use it if wewe have anything wewe want to say. You'll come back inayofuata week, and we'll just hang out together, ok? Then soon we'll probably start group therapy." I got up and went to the hallway and waited for Mrs. Stueck, but she stood in the office room, murmuring to Dr. Bellamont.

"...If we're trying to get her to talk, why are we letting her just write what she wants to say?" she asked. She didn't sound annoyed, but confused.

"You don't want to push something like this. She'll speak when she's ready," Dr. Bellamont said. Mrs. Stueck nodded and then started down the hall.

"Come on," she smiled at me. I held the dry-erase board awkwardly in my hands. I highly doubt I was going to use this. The car ride was silent, and Mrs. Stueck made jokes about how hopefully I wouldn't have anything to say now, because if she looked at the board, she'd crash. I didn't think it was all that funny, but she apparently thought it was.

"How was it?" Mr. Stueck asked when we got back. Amica and Amory looked at me hopefully.

"I thought it went ok," Mrs. Stueck said. She took the board from my hands and held it. "She gets to use this when she has something to say," she alisema cheerfully. My cheeks flushed. She handed it back to me, and I ran upstairs, closing the door behind me. I threw the board across the room, and it fell somewhere between my kitanda and the wall. A couple nights ago, I'd screamed out all my frustration. Today, I cried it out. I hate it. Why can't I just talk? I don't understand why it's such a problem for me to talk. Everyone else does it fine; others excessively. But for me, it was like asking me to do the impossible. I hate myself.

That Sunday, I had another meltdown. I just didn't know how to deal with this guilt anymore. For a mgawanyiko, baidisha second, I almost considered something so stupid, I rejected the thought instantly. That made me zaidi angry with myself, and I cried into my mto for another hour. There was a knock at the door. It was Mrs. Stueck.

"Hecate? Honey, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you..." she alisema quietly. I wiped the tears from my eyes quickly and shook my head. "I want wewe to know that there's nothing wrong with the way wewe are," she said. "I know that probably doesn't make sense after we try to get wewe to talk, but... I'd upendo to have a conversation with you. wewe seem like a very bright girl. When you're ready, you'll talk to us, right?" I nodded a little bit, and she smiled at me. "Thanks." She reached over and hugged me. My first instinct was to fight back, but I knew I shouldn't. So I sat there in stunned shock for a while, then my body loosened up a little.

But I didn't dare hug her back.