This story is about how a person with Selective Mutism feels about her life and herself, and how she is treated by others. She feels that she wants to escape but she doesn't know how.
I guess I should have seen this coming. Everybody had always told me things would only get worse. Now here I am; alone, unhappy, and frightened.
I'd always known I was different from a young age. I don't have any super powers. I'm not a heroine. I'm just a girl with no friends and no voice, shut off from the rest of the world. I've always been stuck in a prison not of my own making. Kicking and screaming. Shouting at passers by to help me. They barely spare me a glance.
I look around me now. How did I get here? What did I ever do to deserve this? The pitch black room doesn't give me any answers. I return to my thoughts.
Some people say I'm shy and shouldn't be. Some people say I'm rude. I say I am just special, not weird. I was created by God to be the way I am. It's not my fault, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I believe I can find a way to cope and get through this by staying strong and being brave. There's got to be an outlook.
I raise my head slightly and look at the closed windows. Nobody can see inside. Nobody can see the room. Nobody can see the pain and hurt inside me. I pull my legs in closer to me and put my head in my hands and on my knees like I'm curling up and hiding in my own shell.
I'd felt so scared. So many times. I'd wondered if people didn't like me. If people were going to hurt me.
I clench my hands into fists as I think this.
I feel angry at everybody for leaving me like this. Abandoning me when I needed them. Not caring about my feelings enough to be more considerate.
My knuckles whiten as I clench my hands tighter together into fists.
All I want to do, in that moment, is go wild and destroy the room. Rip up the papers, stamp and jump around on the floor, and throw pens and pencils as hard as I can. Oh why oh why do I have to feel like this?
Once upon a time, things seemed better than this. I had a friend. And I made that friend all by myself with no help from anybody else. I was so proud of myself. I felt able to talk to her and do normal stuff together. I was so happy. But I got a weird idea into my head that things weren't as good as they seemed. They couldn't be. I couldn't have got lucky. No way. And I got angry. I said things I didn't really mean and that weren't true. I refused to stay friends. I was so ashamed of myself. I'd been happy, and I'd ruined a perfectly good friendship. I couldn't be friends with anyone ever again because I was so scared that I would get angry and mess things up again. And plus I'd lost all of my confidence again.
So here I am. Just as I was then, I am afraid. I also still have no friends. It's a lonely and frightening world to live in. It's not a joke at all.
I see a flash of a girl running past the door. I get hopeful. I am half standing, wondering is she would see me and help me. But of course not. By the time I have stood up she has disappeared into the distance. I wonder if I should call out. Would she hear me? Is it worth it? But I know I can't. Tears threaten to spill over. I let them fall down my cheeks without even trying to wipe them away with my hand. My head suddenly hurts. I dig my nails into my temple as if I'm trying to release a demon inside me. I get the urge to bang my head against something like a wardrobe or chest of draws. But what good would that do really? It would only hurt me more, causing me more pain.
What's the point? I wonder. What's the point in living a life like this? I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. No. No, don't think like that. I'll get through this. Even if I have to do it all on my own.
I close my eyes and imagine I am somewhere else. The sun is big, round, and huge in the sky, illuminating it's surroundings. Directly below the big, fiery, orange fuzzy ball of the light called the sun is the sea. The waves are gently lapping against each other, a mixture of blues and whites. With eyes still closed, I smile slightly at the thought of those waves. I feel my whole body relax and I am able to suck in a deep breath, slowly letting the tension out of my body as I exhale. I walk towards the sea in my bare feet, a relaxed feeling flowing through my entire body. As I walk towards my destination, which my entire being is focused on, I vaguely notice the soft granules of sand escaping and resting in between my toes. I have already taken my sunglasses off, and they are safely in my pocket. My red hair is being blown behind me, out of my way, and I feel slightly windswept. The shining light from the sun dances on my dark red hair, making me the centre of attention. I feel beautiful.
As I am getting closer and closer to the sea, I notice that the bits of shells underneath my feet are causing me great discomfort. I hop my way to the sea, where I stand for a few minutes, admiring everything in my line of vision and around me. The sea makes loud 'swooshing' and 'whoosing' noises. As the waves move away from the tide, the leftover water cascades soothingly over my ankles. The water is cold, but not freezing. I close my eyes and wish I could stay here forever.
I don't want to open my eyes again. I want to stay with my ocean forever. I want to live there. Escape there.
But I slowly and reluctantly open my eyes to the harsh reality of my world.
I sigh heavily.