Speechless

I don't talk. I barely said anything as a child. My father died when I was five, which caused me to stop taking completely. He was my best friend. My mother was a drug addict then, but after he died, she sobered up since she had me to take care of. My mother wasn't a terrible mother then, she just wasn't there. Now, she's the best mother anyone could ever ask for. That's the only good thing that came from my fathers death.

When I was around nine, my mother had grown to accept that I would never speak again. She signed us both up for sign language classes. She talks to me, I sign to her. It isn't a problem any more like it used to be. She used to keep me up all night, trying to get me to speak, but I never would. She finally just gave up. I know she still loves me the same, though.

Now, my mother and I live in England. About three weeks after my father died, we moved up here to get away from everything, everyone. We couldn't handle being around his family any more.

I'm only seventeen, but I would be starting my last year of high school in a new school. My mother had moved us to Sheffield because of an incident with a guy she dated in London. I don't mind, though, because it's not like I make friends. No one ever talks to me because they view me as a freak for not talking.

Once the last of our things were carried inside of the new house, my mother helped me get all of my things up into my new room before she left me alone to get settled. We had already painted the walls the day before so it would be easier. Mine were a deep red and the ceiling was black.

I struggled to move my bed in the spot I wanted, in the center of the wall opposite the door. After that, I put my night stand beside my bed, by the window, opposite of my walk in closet. I, then, pushed my dresser to the left of the wall opposite my bed. My television stand was placed beside it but in the center of the wall, right in front of my bed.The room was pretty simple, just how I liked it.

Once that was done, I gathered all my boxes and bags full of clothes by the closet. I heard the doorbell downstairs ringing, but figured my mother would get it, so I continued on. I picked up too many boxes, so I couldn't see where I was walking. I walked straight into the closet door, causing me to fall to the floor, the boxes going everywhere, spilling their contents.

"Yeh need any help, love?" A voice from the door came. I snapped my head up to see a boy with dark brown hair and huge things in his ears. He was smiling, which showed off his dimples. He was rather cute, but I didn't know him, so I was still alarmed. I quickly got to my feet, shaking my head no at him. I gave him a small smile before turning to pick up all my clothes.

I felt a presence beside me as I piled all my clothes up on the bed. I looked to my right to see the boy placing some of my clothes on the bed as well. I shook my head no, politely turning him toward the door. I pointed to it, indicating for him to leave.

"What do yeh mean? I don't understand yeh hand gestures." He laughed lightly, making me lower my arm. I bit my lip, looking around in attempt to find a pen and paper. I spotted my journal, which was really just a spiral notebook, and ripped a piece of paper out. I got a pen from my purse after and wrote something down on the paper then showed it to him.

I don't talk. Thanks for offering to help, but I got it. Please leave. He read slowly. my handwriting was crap, so I didn't blame him. He looked at me, with a hint of sadness, before nodding.

"Alright. Well, yeh have a good day. I just wanted teh greet our new neighbours." He smiled small, then turned to leave. I smacked my forehead with my hand then grabbed his arm.

"What?" He questioned. I got another piece of paper and wrote I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Excuse my rudeness. I'm Adelaide, but you can call me Ads. If you really want to help me, you can. and showed it to him.

He nodded. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind helping. I'm Matthew, but yeh can call meh Mattie."

I nodded, then wrote I'm just putting up clothes right now. and handed it to him then started separating my clothes and putting them either in the dresser or up in the closet.

Mattie quickly put the paper away and started helping, avoiding any of my undergarments, which I was thankful for.

Eventually, I got tired of the quiet and wrote Tell me about yourself.

After about an hour and a half, Mattie and I had finished putting everything away. Eventually, we sat down and had a full on conversation. By the time we were done, my notebook was empty of unused paper.