Page 2 of Shattered Silence Duet

I follow my mother into the office, making sure to keep staring at my feet and not make eye contact with anyone. The door shuts behind me and the sudden noise makes me jump.

“Good morning ladies. Welcome to McAdams High, Mina,” a deep accented voice says from somewhere in the room. His voice reminds me of a British show I watched years ago. Does that mean this man is from England? I really,reallywant to look up and identify who that voice belongs to, but with my mother’s eyes on me, I know better.I have the scars to prove it.

Without lifting my head, I manage to take a quick peek at the room. There’s a large desk, which the man must be standing behind, and two chairs in front of it. My mother takes a seat in one of the two chairs, but I don’t dare move until instructed to do so. Besides, my mother would never allow me to sit on the same level as her. We are not equal. She constantly reminds me of that, telling me I’m trash and unworthy of her love. She is my superior and I know I need to listen to her or face the consequences.

“Please excuse her bad manners, Mr. Hargrove, like I said, she has a bit of an attitude problem.”

What attitude problem?

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Mrs. Davies. I have her schedule all ready right here.” The sound of shuffling paper reaches my ears.

“Oh, Mr. Hargrove, I thought we spoke about this yesterday. She really doesn’t need all these classes. She’ll be lost in all of them, anyway, since she can’t read or write.” My mother seems uneasy about what he has shown her, but I’m still reeling over what she just told him. Does she really believe I’m illiterate? I haven’t been allowed to attend school since grade one, so she might really believe what she’s saying, and I wasn’t about to correct her. It could be to my advantage if I understand more than she realizes.

“All students at this school are placed in classes with other students. Otherwise, it can create socialization issues for them that could last their whole life.”

“Yes. Well, she already has those issues, so I don’t really see the need…”

“Isn’t that the reason you are enrolling her now? To help with her socialization? Regardless, it’s the way we do things here. All students are treated equally, you understand?” He says it as a question but doesn’t leave any room for her to argue.

She was sending me to high school to help with my socialization? Why now? And why high school and not college? None of this made any sense.

“Well, she has her coloring books in her bag so she can just sit in the back and play with those,” she replies primly.That’s why she gave me those books?If she doesn’t want me to learn, then why am I even here?

“If that’s all she can do, then that’s fine. Her teachers have all been informed of her condition.”

My condition?

“Does she have any other health requirements from her accident that we should know about? Any medication?”

What accident?The more they talk, the more confused I get.

“No, like I told you yesterday, the car accident took away her ability to speak, read, write, or do much of anything. She occasionally suffers from anger issues and aggressive episodes, but she is not medicated for it. If she acts up, you can just lock her in a room and call me.”

My heart beats rapidly in my chest. Why is my mother lying to him? I’ve never been in a car accident and I haven’t so much as lifted a finger towards my mother, even in self defense. It’s like she’s trying to make the school think I’m a troublemaker before I’ve even started.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, Mrs. Davies,” Mr. Hargrove responds.

“Well, it looks like you have everything handled here, then. I’ll see you after school, Mina, don’t be late,” my mother says, giving my shoulder a hard squeeze that makes me internally wince as she passes and exits the office. Her words might sound sweet on the surface, but I know better.

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with Mr. Hargrove. I stare at the floor, letting the quiet settle around me. My stomach twists. I don’t want to be here.

“Mina, there is still a little time before class. Do you want to take a seat, and I can tell you about your schedule and what you can expect here?” His voice is calm, not demanding, but it still makes my chest tighten with worry. How could I survive here with being able to communicate?

I shuffle toward the chair slowly, my feet dragging like they’re weighed down with lead. Sitting feels like an effort, but I lower myself anyway, keeping my head down and clasping my hands tightly in my lap.

“Well, now, let’s see here,” he says, his tone a bit brighter. “You have math, science, art, and gym. Your mother says you have coloring books to keep you busy, and I will have another student help you find your classes, sound good?”

I flinch slightly at the mention of coloring books. It’s humiliating, and I know she told him that to make me sound childish orincapable. My hand moves cautiously, reaching for the schedule he set on the desk in front of me. The paper feels rough between my fingers as I look it over, unsure of what I’m supposed to do with it. I nod my head quickly, a small motion, but enough to answer him.

He exhales, and I sense his relief. “Brilliant. You should also know I’m your guidance counselor, and you’re welcome to come see me anytime about anything. You understand?”

I don’t respond. My chest feels tight, like there’s a rope tied around it, and I can’t make myself nod or lift my head. I know it’s the start of a panic attack, and I try to take some deep breaths to calm myself.

“Mina, can you look at me, honey?”

The word catches me off guard.Honey?It feels strange, out of place, and it distracts me enough to help my breathing start to grow steady.

“Please, look at me, Mina,” he says again, softer this time. Slowly, I lift my head. My eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. It’s quick, but I catch it—a flash of surprise.