Whatever Remains by T. Richardosn (my miracle luna book free read txt) đ
- Author: T. Richardosn
Book online «Whatever Remains by T. Richardosn (my miracle luna book free read txt) đ». Author T. Richardosn
I feel a rush of misery pile over me ounce by ounce. The lights of the school were unfamiliar and different from just a school cafeteria as how it always had been. I look around for my date but he doesnât appear. Never trust anyone. I feel sweaty and clammy hands inside mines, curled with my fingers. Shane is standing by my side being supportive of me and being my only friend, also being extremely creepy by insisting to become my date. I swallow deeply still looking around him. Heâs dancing with me pretending to be my date but there was no use, everyone knew that Shane was my step-brother and was thirteen and just in for the visit.
I let his hands go as I wander around for a moment still looking for my date. My long light green shirt swayed softly as I walked away. He didnât exactly know who I was so I wondered that perhaps, he couldnât find me. There were many young kids wondering around wondrously, with dates or without. As I walked through, everyone looked at me and then I was stopped by a white velvet gloved hand that I had felt before on this night. âWhat are you doing here? You said you wouldnât even come to a dance like this.â He said. âHe,â was Matthew Gail. He had a wonderful English accent. He absolutely hated me and I hated him with all my gut as well. I ignored his comment. He stopped me again with his gloved hand.
âYouâre so clueless,â Matthew said laughing, âthat itâs adorable.â A boy beside him was wearing a black mask and pouring some punch into a paper cup and was handing something to Matthewâs girlfriend. I took it from his hands.
âUh⊠excuse me,â the guy said. I ignored him. âDonât drink that!â The masked boy hit Matthew in the head. Sympathetic, thatâs what Matthew said was what he called his feelings for me.
âI faked the date, thereâs no one coming for you.â To save me from the embarrassment, I ran away.
âSeventeen year old, Matthew murdered Thursday afternoon after a local dance with some party buddies. If anyone has anything to share on who committed such a gruesome murder, callâŠ.â
I sank my hand in a bag of popcorn and sat next to my dad watching the old television. I covered my mouth.
âYou were at that party last night.â He commented. âPoor boy, how did the party go anyway, was there anyone who looked like they wanted to kill him?â I shook my head soundlessly. I couldnât talk. Ever since I had turned twelve, I was soundless, mute, or you could say dumb as in unable to talk. I was lucky this event didnât take place when I was a child or I wouldnât be able to interpret words as easily as I could now not being able to speak.
I shrugged. Matthew was an idiot to me, school was a wreck with him around, and why would I even care? I did care, and it was sad that I did. Matthew mightâve been an idiot and all but he didnât deserve to die when his life was just starting. I took some more popcorn and piled it in to my mouth where some cornels dropped into my shirt. I was to get ready for school this morning and I hadnât had everything exactly ready. I wondered how Matthewâs girlfriend would react. Would she be disappointed? Would she be depressed? Perhaps petrified? I had no idea of how anyone would react, but usually with deaths in our school, there would be huge announcements of how much we should sacrifice just to go see him or pray for him.
I would not go though. I would probably try and pray for him but it would be too late knowing all of the things heâs done to me.
Shane came from out of the guest room and was changed. âCome on,â he said. I pointed to the TV eating the popcorn still. He nodded. âI know, my mom said we should go to school as help around with the ceremony of that idiotâs death. Why do you care anyway? You hated him.â I frowned and shook my head. I wanted to say something so badly. Just because I didnât like someone didnât mean it didnât sadden me. To know that he was actually dead frightened me. I was at the same party with this guy and once I left, he was gone, dead and gone.
Shane took my hands now. âCome,â he said, âwe donât want to be late today. You really shouldnât be eating popcorn at this time in the morning.â He added on. I shook my head and put the popcorn bag on the counter. Shane was light skinned and I was in the mix between dark and light but it actually looked as if we were really related. He was the closest to a brother that I was ever going to come to, and he was my second closest friend. The nicest person to me was my friend Amanda.
My name was Orphelia but she called me Lea because the âFeel,â pronunciation in my name, Orâfeelâia, bothered her. My mother, before she died, named me that. I could easily see why. Amanda talked to me sometimes in my dead silence which seemed to bother some people but not her or my family. She was different, yet special to me and it bothered me that I couldnât see why she was like that. Just nicer than everyone else was all I could guess.
Amanda has known me before I became mute and so did Shane. Shane and I took a walk to the bus stop where the bus would sweep us off of our feet and into the dungeon where all of us belonged. I sat next to Amanda as Shane sat next to his own friends and they all smiled. One of his friends was a kid named Bradley. One thing I can say that is true for everyone is that everyone has a crush, and mine was Bradley. The only imperfection he had was being friends with Matthew. His imperfections were obviously flawless. He had a nice set of marble white teeth that glistened with a curve of his mouth. He had eyes, green, and long and stupid hair that made me stop thinking about him at all. I hated his hair! Was I looking at the right person? Yes, I was, he added hair extensions. His hair now had a rainbow of colors and went down to his shoulders. He put bangs to it making him look like he was some sophisticated Irish man. Why was he so wary of his looks? Amanda looked at me now.
âHey Lea, are you ok?â I nodded smiling towards her. âBallet practice is late tomorrow night, theyâre finally having guys for practice believe it or notâŠâ she kept talking. I was distracted by the way she talked. One of the guys was someone she knew apparently of how she talked about this one ballet class tomorrow night. âTheyâre forcing some of the boys from this school and we all have to pick partners to practice with, and I heard one of the guys is Bradley.â I shook my head. I showed her a hand gesture of the hair and pointed him to show that I was not feeling him anymore and that he thought he shouldnât have any more than one flaw. It bothered me. âI know,â she said. âHeâs just trying a little too hard.â I nodded thankful that she understood what I was trying to say, most people wouldnât. As I looked back at Bradley, I saw Shane. He was only thirteen and he talked to all of the people I knew. He was so much more noticeable that me. I couldnât talk so no one tried to really talk to me at all. Teachers, when they talked to me, would become frustrated and deny looking at anything I tried to write. They were so impatient that I would sometimes lack on my grades, I wouldnât be able to tell teachers problems I had been having with people. They wouldnât listen to me.
As we were sauntering off of the bus, Amanda spoke again. âThe class will be on till ten. We will be having a recital in public and perform for people for free and we might even be accepted into dance schools. For you, maybe even more. I envy you; youâre so great at so many things.â I smiled. I like to draw, I like to dance, I liked to act and I liked to sing but all of those things went away when my voice did as well. Now all I could do was draw and dance. I would do other things but it hadnât really done anything since this thing has left me.
Due to my thinking, I realized that I was inside of the school and Amanda was waving bye and I had something in my pocket. It was the flyer for friends if I wanted anyone special to see it. There was no one exactly special that I wanted to come but I kept it in my pocket anyway.
In the middle of the stair way of our school as I was heading up, a teacher stopped me. âOrphelia?â she asked. I nodded. The teacher there was Mrs. Rodriguez. I nodded to let her know I was listening. She took my arm bringing me back down the stair well. âThe principal told me that as soon as you came to class, I should order you to the office, but since you are already here, will you please follow me?â
I nodded. I shivered to the thought of the principalâs office. I had never been in his office before and it had absolutely scared me. I was not used to being in trouble but usually when I was ever called for anything, it was just to get an award I havenât received, or a note from my step mother, or maybe lunch money. Even though Iâve been through all of these, I still was nervous every time I was called down. Anxiety filled me when I saw Matthewâs girlfriend sitting there piled up to the top of her head with jewelry and soaked lashes pouring down mascara streaks down her cheeks covered in makeup. I gave an annoyed look but swept it away to the look of the principalâs eyes staring at me concentrating.
âHello, Orphelia,â he said.
I nodded saying âhiâ back biting at the edges of my cheeks to keep myself from frowning or laughing at the amount of makeup on Keely, Matthewâs girl. She pointed at me. I urgently backed away as my mouth parted. She stood up from her chair.
âYou killed him!â she yelled. âYou killed Matthew! He was going to take care of our child and you killed him!â I looked at her blankly, yet blinking. My mouth parted. I longed to yell at her. I wanted to tell her that she was telling lies and that she should shut up. I shook my head. I wanted to write on a piece of paper but I knew the teachers wouldnât listen. I closed my mouth now. I put my bag down and shook my head. Why would they think I killed Matthew, yes we had our fair share of arguments but I never even threatened him, or did anything to be with him personally. We couldnât even talk since no sound would ever come out of me.
âWhy?â the
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