Speak

“I don’t belong here,” I thought to myself as I walked through the halls of the high school. Kids stared at me from their lockers. A few noticed I caught them and acted like they were talking about something behind me. I knew better. I got to my secluded locker at the end of the hall and opened it up. All my books fell out and crashed to the ground. The hall went silent and everybody stared.

I dropped my eyes and began to pick them up. No one said a word to me. I walked to my first class and realized we had a substitute. I sighed and went to my seat at the back of the class. Once the bell rang, the substitute began calling names out for attendance.

“When I call your name, please say here,” she announced to the class. My heart dropped. The impending humiliation was setting in. She called out a few names before she got to mine. “Adriana Cass?” Silence filled the room. I stared at the substitute. “Is Adriana Cass here?” She searched the room and a few students turned to look at me. “So Adriana isn’t here,” she said as she marked on a sheet of paper.

The girl in front of me raised her hand. The substitute looked at her and nodded for her to speak. “Um… Adriana is here,” explained the girl. I began shrinking down in my seat.

“Well, why didn’t she answer then? If she doesn’t answer then I can not mark her as here,” explained the teacher, waving her hands around as if for emphasis. The room stayed silent.

The girl turned around to face me. “She is right here. Sitting behind me. See? She is here,” said the girl, pointing her finger right at my face. I could feel my cheeks turning red, and began to shake all over.

The substitute walked over to me, pen in hand. “Why didn’t you answer when I called your name Adriana?” I turned my face away so she couldn’t see the tears start to form in my eyes. “Adriana! You should look at someone when they are talking to you!” said the substitute, wanting to sound authoritative for the seemingly rebellious student.

But I wasn’t the rebellious student she thought I was. I was always the kid who sat in the back, didn’t have any friends, and just soared under the radar. But it was times like these that I dreaded the most. This was why I didn’t belong here. This exact moment was reoccurring nightmare I had every night. But this time it wasn’t a nightmare. It was my horrifying reality.

The tears were rolling down my cheeks and I tried to control my breathing. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, wondering what I was going to do. I looked at the girl in front of me and begged her with my eyes to make this humiliation stop.

“She’s mute,” said the girl, barely above a whisper. I dropped my head even lower and began wiping my tears away.

The substitute froze and any anger she had towards me must have left. “Oh,” was all she said before she returned to the front of the classroom. She continued with the attendance but her voice was much quieter than before.

The girl in front of me stared as the substitute continued her roll call. I made a shooing motion with my hand, hoping she would understand to stop. But before turning around in her seat, she said, “You’re welcome.”

I nodded to show my appreciation. But I knew it was just something she felt obligated to do. To help the kid with a disability. It would only be a matter of time before someone like her would have to help me again and I dreaded every minute of it.