Silence by Kate (phonics books .TXT) 📕

Prologue— at age 7.
I look out the window at the snow, how it'ls pure white and falling. Kids running around dancing and making snow angels, but unlike those kids I wasn't allowed. I envied them for their freedom and carelessness. While i'm cooped here, doing nothing but reading and learning. I shivered at the cool breeze in the room and snuggle into my sweater I’ve had since I was 5.

Getting up from the window seat, I run into the kitchen to the cook. He is always challenging me to read and become smart, and I take the challenges. I saw the cook swirling a sugar stick in the foster home headmaster’s coffee, like everyday. He looks down at me and greets me with a smile, he is the only one to do so. All of the other kids give me dirty looks, and I’m looked down upon. I look up at him with the same smile, I held up the book he gave me. It was a total of 180 pages, I read all of them. In the same hand as my book was my teddy bear, I favored it because my true mother gave to me before she left me here. Giving the sugar stick one more swirl before taking the book, the cook gave me a reassuring look. Once he had the book I ran out of the kitchen and right into the headmaster of this foster home. My eyes reveled terror and I took a step back, afraid of what she might do. Holding tightly onto my teddy bear I close my eyes, after 1 or 2 seconds I popped one eye open and felt my arms hug my chest, not my teddy bear. I screamed and the cook came out from the kitchen looking towards me then the headmaster all the way to my teddy bear.

“Headmaster your coffee is ready, and will you give her bear stuff animal to her, it’s the only thing her mother left her,” he asks in a pleading voice that I was thankful for. I let out a sigh of relief when she forcefully slammed my teddy bear into my chest. I look over at the cook and with my big puppy dog eyes full of water waiting to escape, I mouth a ‘thank you.’ Here at the foster home I don’t speak, I haven’t for a long time. No one knows what my voice even sounds like, they think it’s freaky, but all I think is that if I’ll talk they’ll use it against me like everything else I do. The water from my eyes decided to leave in a trial down my pale cheek. The cook looked at me with sympathy, and then he rushed to get the headmaster her coffee. I bow my head and walk over to the window seat I was at before. Crawling onto the seat I lean against the panel and envy the kids outside some more.

“Ally you're it,” I heard Matt call from upstairs, I look over to Ally in the corner hiding. I gave her a weak smile and put my hand against my mouth, noting that I wouldn’t talk. Even if she wasn’t there I wouldn’t. I heard to pairs of footsteps, one on the stairs and one coming out of the kitchen. Matt made his way to Ally, while the cook came to me with a new book at hand. I clapped my hands at the sight and made room for him to sit next to me.

“I’m glad you finished that other book, it was quite long, a whole 180 pages. This one is slightly longer 213 pages, and each of these pages is magical. Remember to give me the book back when you are finish, who am I kidding I know you will.” He patted my black curly hair messing it up, once his hand left my hair I was quick to fix it. Placing the book down, he got up and left. Picking the book up I assume it is a good one, because the cook gave it to me, I’ve always enjoyed the ones he encouraged me to read. I skip through the title page and extra stuff until I get to chapter one. Shifting into a comfortable position, I began to read. Dinner was being called and I had just started chapter 5. I groan and decided I wasn’t hungry, and I kept reading getting lost in the book.

Present day.
Slamming my hand down on the beeper I groaned for two reasons. One because it was to early to get up, and two I slammed my hand hard. Silently I roll out of bed and dig through my dresser for a light blue tank top and light blue skinny jeans. Quickly I slip them on then rampage through the dresser again for a sweater. I found a white sweater I’ve gotten with my own money, of course it wasn’t brand name. After slipping that on I went to the foster home bathroom, which everyone uses. Quickly I did my makeup, eyeliner, massacre, and light eye shadow. Once done with that I walk back to my room to find my book bag. While picking it up one of my oldest books fell, I picked it up and placed it in my book bag. I pulled my book bag over my shoulder and made way into the kitchen. I look towards the cook and smile, even though it’s been 11 years we still did this everyday. He looked back at me and gave a weak smile he was busy making breakfast for all the foster kids. I waved goodbye and walked out of the kitchen, and then soon out the foster home.

Breathing heavily from walking that long distance, I made it to school. I pass everyone in the school yard and they all say hi, expecting an answer, but like when I was 7 I didn’t talk. My voice hidden as always. I slip through the crowd into the hall in the hall there was absolutely no space to move. Hoping people saw me as they did yesterday, they would move as if I was a disease.

To my advantage they did, except one person and I failed to see who he was before slamming into him like he was a wall. He felt like a wall, his chest hard like bricks. I stumble back and almost fall, but he grabbed my arm to help me gain balance. I would say sorry, but the words didn’t come out, and I feared that my voice has been forever locked inside of me. That didn’t bother me, but me wanting to say something did. I’m very under-spoken it’s unlike me to want to have a voice. Looking over my thoughts I almost forgot where I was, and this gorgeous guy, how can you forget someone like him.

“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he says with a voice that is music to my ears. I nodded, and then turn around to go find my way to my homeroom, before the bell rings. When I was fully turned around I felt his hand grip my wrist and twirl me around again.
“Aren’t you going to talk?” I shook my head and looked for an escape route, I’m surprise I need one. Usually these people want to be the ones getting away from me. I sigh in relief as the school’s Barbie doll came into view walking towards the handsome man. She came right up next to him with her hand rubbing up and down his arm. Then she turned and looked at me in disgust.
“Ew! You shouldn’t bother with her, she hasn’t talked since she was in kindergarten and we only heard one word out of her, which was her name. She’s a total geek let’s leave before she gets her disease all over us.” I roll my eyes and twirl on the bottoms of my heel, but his hand was still firmly on my wrist. I arched an eyebrow and wiggle my hand trying to get lose of his grip. I ripped my wrist free of his grasp and he looked shocked at how strong I was. Quickly I walked across the hall to my homeroom, away from the random hot dude. Taking my hair tie, I put my curly black hair into a bun.

I open the door to the room and walk to my usual seat. Setting everything up into place I lean back into my chair and watch the room fill up slowly, until the bell rings and the halls quickly became clear, while the classrooms were emerged. Mrs. Veldhuis started her lecture on boring things, like the revolutionary war. I read about that in 3 grade get over it. I’ve token all a.p classes, but I didn’t have any money to afford to go to collage, even though I could be out of collage right now. I took this time during her lecture to go over my thoughts about me wanting to speak. It was very unusual for me, the urge to use my voice, to finally be heard. I like talking to myself silently, being my own friend, that way no one can hurt me again. Not the way my mother hurt me by leaving me at the foster home, not the way the headmaster nearly killed me. Not being hurt like the time I wanted to play tag with the others but they ignored me the outcast. I let it sink in, being the outsider. The one not being wanted, I took that and thought why talk when no one will listen? The one thing I don’t know is why I wanted him to listen. When I was thinking hard about that last question I was interrupted.

“Violet, come to the board and write a summary on what the lecture was about,” Mrs. Veldhuis states knowing that I was daydreaming rather than listening. Everyone gave out oh’s and laughs. I got out of my seat and tripped on a foot, I looked to who the foot belonged to and found the guy that I ran into. Slowly I continued down the path between desks up to the front board. I reminisce about the book I read back in 3rd grade and began to write. After 5 minutes I had wrote 9 sentences in a complete summary which the principal would even be proud of. Putting the cap on the marker, I throw the marker at the board and watch it land on the floor. I don’t pick it up I just go back to my seat and look out the window. It was a habit of mine, habits die hard.

Not soon enough the bell rang and I was rushing out