Young Writers Society

I continued to write, and the bell for recess sounded. Mrs. Poverly started heading back to her classroom, and I decided to come with her. I wiped the tears from my face, and followed her down the hallway. I had to face them.

When everyone was in their seats, Mrs. Adams put everyone to work on their essays. She called me to the back of the room. By then I was done writing my explanation. I handed her the pages. Three of them, front and back. She started reading, and when she was finished she sent me to the guidance counselor, Mrs. Hornbecker. I walked the long way to her office alone, constantly looking around to make sure that none of them were following me. I pushed the door open and she greeted me with a smile. I had forgotten how nice she is.

"Hi Elana. Mrs. Adams called me to tell me that you were dropping by for a quick visit. Do you want me to call your mom?" she said in a kind voice. 

I nodded my head. I wrote my moms number on a tiny scrap of paper, and while she talked to her, I sat down. She is on the phone with her for 15 minutes or so, and I caught tiny tidbits of the conversation.

"Hi, Mrs. Evans. Your daughter...yes, she is okay now... she is here with me... could you...here..." 

I sat patiently in my seat until she got off the phone. 

"She is going to come here and talk to us about what happened and what we are going to do. Now, could you tell me what happened?" asked Mrs. Hornbecker.

I handed her the papers. She sat there, her eyes scanning the paper for a while. 

"Okay. So, this all began when your grandma died a couple weeks ago, correct? And then you haven't said a word since. And why haven't you?" she asked.

I nodded my head. I began writing my answer. When I was done I handed her the papers. I wrote, 

is because I can’t. When I try  The second reason is because it is my way of grieving.

"I will share this with your mom." she said once she was done reading it."Now, I think I know what you have. I am a psychiatrist after all, so I can diagnose you with it. Can you just fill out this questionnaire so I can be sure?"

She handed it to me. It looked pretty short. I began filling it out.

Some of the questions were just basic. Like "Are you comfortable talking?" or "Do you talk more than you use hand gestures?" I answered no to both questions.

Some were more kind of touchy, like this one "Are you nervous about speaking?" Yes.

When I was done, my mom walked in. She came over to where I was sitting and hugged me. When she finally let go, Mrs. Hornbecker and her talked for a while. She gave my mom both sets of papers, the answer to her question and everything that had happened. My mom read both of these.

"So, based on the results of the test, I have a diagnosis. It is called selective mutism disorder. It is chronic, it will eventually go away. But for now we have to help her." announced Mrs. Hornbecker. "It is almost summer break, and I want the rest of her time at this school for her to be a good experience. I will have the lunch administrators keep an eye on her, and the other girls are going to get in trouble, obviously. I think that you and Elana should both go home, and then there is the weekend."

"Okay, that sounds good. Can we bring the papers home so I can read them again? I was kind of in a rush the first time and I want to be able to understand it more." said Mom.

"Yes, here they are. I will write down a therapist's number if you are interested in that." replied Mrs. Hornbecker. 

"Okay, thank you. We will see you on Monday." my mom said. 

We walked out of the school and into the car. 

"I am so sorry, Elana. I know that you and grandma had a special bond. All I know is that she is having the time of her life in heaven right now. And, I can't say the same for Mark, but you will probably still be allowed to go back there. I am going to check it out to make sure it is safe, but you are good to go. I am proud of you, Elana. You are a good, honest child and I am sorry that you of all people were the target. I cannot believe those girls. And Kya, too? I didn't know that she had the nerve to do that." mom said. "It will all be okay, eventually. It will all be okay."