Speaking Part 3

Speaking Part 3

Fan fiction of "Speak" by  L.H. Anderson, to whom " Speak" is owned.

Part 3

The usual, Kathy walks out. we walk in.

Kathy. Did you bring your drawing?

Me. Reaches onto my bag and pulls it out.  Hands it to her.

Kathy. Wow you are an amazing artist, have you thought about this as a profession?

Me. Shrug

Kathy. You should you are very talented.

She looks over the drawing intently, I gawk out the window hoping not to have to answer questions.

Kathy. Can you tell me what this is of

Me.

Kathy. You don't have to but I would love to know what inspired the emotion in this piece

Me.(amazed she is so clueless of IT, am I the only one who can see IT written all over the page?)

Kathy.

Me. It's of IT.

Kathy. It being?... The night you were raped?

Me.

Kathy. It's alright we don't have to talk about that until your ready.  It's nice to hear you though and it was very brave of you to bring this in.  What would you like to talk about.

Me. Shrugs

Kathy. Would you like to talk about it?

Me. Shrugs, swallow hard

Kathy. Here, I'll give you an easy question.  Do you remember what you were wearing.

Me. Nods 

I close my eyes.  Pink shirt new skirt, why did I wear that? I must of been asking for it, not even wearing shorts underneath.  I see him, IT, him before IT.  How could I be so stupid.  He was paying way too much attention to me, I should have known he was after something else.

Kathy. Wait there

Me. My eyes fly open I forgot she was even there.  I forgot I was even talking out loud.

I try to take the words back stuffing them back in swallowing them down, it's no use they made it into her ear already.  I stand up and take up my backpack.  My legs are moving without my control.  I walk home, just like on that night.

Home

Mom. Hey Melinda your back early

Me.

She's been extra nice since she heard about it.  My opening up on that last day of school lasted, actually no it never lasted .  I retreat to my room and under my covers in my small safe tent.

I can't believe I said that.  I can't believe I said that.

Stay tuned for part four!

Speaking Part 2

Speaking- fan fiction for" Speak" by L.H. Anderson

*disclaimer*  "Speak" is owned my its respective author

Part 2 ( see part one on my blog)

"So how does that make you feel"

The court recommended I get therapy.  Andy Evens gets one year puerile, and a week future criminal prevention program.  I get to sit in a dimly lit room with "calm painting"  and tell someone how I feel.  The juvenile criminal justice system is a cruel joke.

     This is how therapy goes.  She comes out, we go in.  Her name is Kathy.

Kathy.  What would you like to talk about today

Me.  

Kathy.   How was you week

Me.    Fine

Kathy.  Do want to talk about what happened?

Me.

Kathy.  You know Melinda, your not going to resolve anything if you refuse to engage in any conversation.

Me.

Kathy.  Do you want to play a bored game

We have spent three sessions playing checkers.  She lets me win a lot, it's to build my confidence.  I don't tell her I know.

Today at the end on session she gives me homework.  She wants me to draw "fear" she also tells me I cannot completely erase and start over any part of the drawing and I am to bring it with me next week.  She reassures me that she won't make fun of it if its as simple a stick figures and she doesn't care how good it is.

At home I think of starting the drawing.   I can't get an image in my head though. I could draw a fantastic tree, but I've done so many trees and I have the option to anything I desire this time.

My mom calls me down for dinner.  This will have to wait for another time.

Summer Art Program

Mr. Freeman's mural is a tree.  I like it.  It's much more convincing then mine and its creepy staring back at me because I'm betting somehow I inspired it on that last day of school, he ran to draw an outline like a little kid to the bathroom after I told him about IT.  I don't want to stare at it too long either, I'm afraid it might come to life on me, no matter how ludicrous it sounds.  (Two points vocab word)

The art program is run much like class; however, as long as we work he doesn't assign a subject.  It's peaceful, away from family, unquestioned draw what you wish down time.

I take up a pencil, I want to draw IT, much less bluntly however.  Like the teachers hidden in mr. Freeman's painting.  My awareness floats off as I draw, I am completely focused but I'm not thinking about it one bit.

I return my paper still in front of me and my pencil still outlining the image.  It shakes me I couldn't have drawn this it's everything, it's too much.  I want to wad it up toss it before anyone sees it as if they could look through me if I showed it to them.  Mr Freeman stands a top me looking down at my work.

Mr. Freeman. That is amazing! It's meaningful and abstract. Melinda, this is better than anything I've ever done myself!

Me.

Me. Frozen

Me.

I look for signs of mind reading.  I wonder if he sees into my head now.  He doesn't seem to.  He seems the same except amazed. Amazed. Amazed at me. Concluding my drawing gave him no super powers and realizing how disappointed he would be if I chucked it I decided to continue.

It needed color next.  I find the box of colored pencils with more colors than one could ever use.  Most of them still have their fresh from store triangle tips.

I find several shades of gray and dark purple, that's about all the color this sketch could handle.

When I finished it it look really good, really good.  I'm not sure if I actually drew it, that is how good it looks.

Since its abstract maybe I could bring it in to show Kathy.  I don't think she would be able to see through me if Mr. Freeman couldn't.

I put it in the folder in my bag.  I won't take it out until I see Kathy. Two people seeing this is plenty

I hope you like it, I'll work on the next part to have it out shortly!  I love comments.

Speaking fan fiction for "Speak"

I hope all enjoy I've put a lot of work into this and I am totally open to constructive criticism!  This is set as the novel "speak"ends.  I'll be posting more parts as I finish writing and quick proofing them.  The second part is started already!

Speaking- fan fiction for "Speak" by L.H. Anderson

* disclaimer * "Speak"is owned by the writer, and many of the concepts and characters I use come from her also; howeve, the fiction below is my work.

Part 1

*Mr Freeman*

"Let me tell you about it"

 The words hung in the air a moment I nodded nonchalantly hoping the shock I felt wouldn't discourage my student from telling me her story.  I knew she had a story all this time a shell of a girl barely making it through each day but I could see behind her eyes a light, a glimmer lighting up inside her when she worked.  

"Last summer I went to this party with a bunch of my friends.  it was a high school party we were just out of eight grade.  It was crazy. I felt lost.  Their was a senior there.  he was stunning and popular And he was talking to me.  I was drunk. He cornered me.  I said no."

I see the warm tears running down her face and I wipe them lightly.  

A desperate plea, "he raped me"

I meet her eyes, sad ,pitiful, pathetic.  Her guard has never been so low.  Is this Melinda? I lift her chin.

"You are the bravest young lady I have ever met"

Her eyes flash down

"No I really mean it Melinda, you have tried so hard, fought day and night, and you survived you are here things only get better from here."

I have an idea the image of my mural.  It's Melinda, it's a tree a strong elegant crippled but coming back to life tree.  I walk over to my wall. Three lines, roots, leaves.  

She asks what I'm doing

I grab a flyer for the summer art program, I hand it to her. 

 "I'll see you next Monday."

She looks blankly at me but stands and walks away.

* Melinda*

Mr. Freeman must be out of his mind.  Who just walks away after their student pours their heart out to him.  I hate him.  I love him.  I love that he didn't make me answer questions or sit in pure awkwardness.

But I phfft at him as I leave the room despite that.  I don't think he heard.

I know what I'm doing this summer now.  I don't know why I want to agree to this.  He tested my limits all year.

I start to walk home but as soon as I'm outside the school my mom runs over to me.  Hugs.  She must have found out.  She says I don't have to talk.  We get in the car.

My voice comes out without me even condoning it. 

 "I want to tell you what happened."

She turns, I can see the shock on her face but she doesn't say anything.

I began and tell her everything from beginning to end.  The story is getting easier to tell but the words taste bitter in my mouth.

We get home and my father waits out front.  I have to tell The story again, and again when we go to the police to file a report, and again, and again.  I really should write it on the back of my hand and read it when people ask.  A girls not allowed to forget is she.

I'm insta-popular.  Everyone is calling asking how I am and their so sorry for what happened, blah blah blah blah blah.  Outcast to everyone's BFF in one day flat.  I should remind them how I couldn't join any group or talk to them in public yesterday.

Our phone is ringing off the hook.  I smash our phone.  My parents watch, I don't get in trouble.

I appreciate your time, don't forget to comment with thoughts.