Every day is the same.
Listening to the banter in the classroom. The dread of being picked on to give her opinion or answer a question. Fear of the sound of her own voice – a noise that comes out timid and quiet.
Wishing every minute of every day was Friday afternoon. Wanting to hide but at the same time, desperately desiring to be spoken to. To be accepted as a friend. To be liked enough to be invited into a circle – a circle where they don’t ask intrusive questions like, “Why don’t you speak? Do you have a problem or something?”
Walking out of class with no-one to talk to. Hearing conversations of others while heading to the canteen. Standing alone in a long dinner queue, wondering what to eat today. And what to do with her hands while waiting.
Treading nervously ahead with her tray, looking round the room, wondering where to sit. No-one beckoning her to their table. Eating slowly with nobody to look at, just with head down focusing on the plate. Getting up with no-one to say, ‘goodbye’, see you later’ to.
Walking down the corridor towards the library. Entering the room full of computers and books but not a person who is welcoming her in. Sitting down to read, distracted by the chatter all around her. Don’t people realise that she’s not that into books? She’s not a story-mad geek but there’s nothing else to do is there?
Feeling invisible. Feeling alone. Feeling unliked. Unappreciated. Unloved.
How I wish we never sent her to that school!