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It was three in the morning and Ophelia was lying down in her bed face up, staring at the ceiling and wondering why in the world her grandma's house was so cold all the time. She was buried under three different blankets, a soft hill at her eyes' level.Granny Lisa always kept the heating system either off or at its minimum."We've got plenty of sweaters,"she said when Ophelia complained. Being five and having dozens of sweaters -of all kinds-, all she could do was obey and put on one of the ones Aunt Margot insisted on knitting every single C...
Do you know when they say: "Shut up"? Well, that's one thing no one will ever tell me. Not because I say fine things or because I have a enjoyable voice, it's just that there's no need. I was born with mutism, so I just cannot talk. I hear, I move, I see, I feel... but I don't speak. But I think know what mutism is, right? Enough talking about mutism, Mom said writing a journal would be a way to express myself, not mutism. So, dear journal, here I am, expressing myself, whatever that means. I'm a pretty messed up person, you'll discover it ...
They say curiosity killed the cat, and I think someone here sees me as the cat.I'm not crazy.I know that's exactly what someone crazy would say, but I swear: I'm not crazy.What can I do to prove I'm not? The fact that I'm writing a journal, like the school counselor said, doesn't help. Well, the fact that I'm even seeing the school counselor at all doesn't help.Let's see, what would a person who is NOT crazy do right now? Probably introduce themself.My name is Abby White. I'm fifteen and I go to Creecher High School. What...
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