The Girl Afraid To Speak Her Mind (a story)

Whew! That was long title.

Hello everyone! I have not posted here for a very long time. I was on vacation for a while, and I have been scrambling to get the rest of my to-do list done.

Today I have a story I wrote for Loren’s CWWC! I obviously won’t post all of my stories for CWWC, but I was feeling specifically proud of this one 😉 Here it is!

***

There once was a time where I was afraid to speak. I hid my thoughts and desires, fearing what people would think of them.

Because I was so afraid to speak my mind, I wrote down my thoughts.

And then I found a way to break out of my shell, and it was called, Summer Camp.

Summer Camp

I was internally screaming just thinking about it. I didn’t want to go. Instead I wanted to stay home, marathon the Lord of the Rings, and read Jane Austin novels.

But my parents said I had to go, and I wasn’t the person to fight back. I never fight back.

I packed five days in advance, so I would have time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.

I checked over my packing list again. Looking at my suitcase to make sure each item was there. Once I was finally sure, my eyes wondered to a chair in the corner of my room with my journal.

I had written on the front with silver Sharpie. “Everything I Want To Say.”

It was a fitting title.

I yearned to grab it and stuff in the bottom of my suitcase, but my mom didn’t want me to bring it.

“Just this once, Lisa,” my mom said, “I want you to speak your mind at camp. One time. You can’t bring your notebook.”

I wanted to protest, but instead I nodded and went to write down what I had really thought.

I though my mom was being unfair. I didn’t want to speak my mind just one time at camp. I wanted to stay silent and keep to myself, but deep inside I knew I needed to speak up on my opinions.

It doesn’t matter what people think. It doesn’t matter what people think, I repeated the words over and over in my mind, trying to convince myself they were true. I was currently failing.

All too soon it was time to meet up for the camp buses. My heart was beating wildly as I left my bedroom without my journal. I nearly turned around and grabbed it, but instead I forced myself to march out the door.

“Goodbye sweetie!” My mom said giving me a quick hug. I waved to her as I boarded the bus. My hands began to sweat as I sat down.

“Hey,” my friend, Martin, said as he sat down next to me.

“Hi,” came my quick reply.

“You excited?” He asked.

I nodded, but I’m pretty sure my round eyes and sweaty hands gave away the opposite, and he knew I wasn’t.

“I heard we’re gonna make pizzas for dinner tonight,” He said. He knew he wasn’t going to much out of me today.

“Cool,” I replied. I don’t like pizza. It’s too greasy.

We spent the rest of the bus ride in silence. I was reading a book, and he was listening to some strange band on his headphones.

Kids were laughing and joking with each other, but to me the bus felt dark and gloomy. I felt like I was at my own funeral. How was I going to survive this? A whole week without my journal.

I considered it death.

The bus finally came to halt, and kids cam pouring off, talking excitedly about the week’s coming events. I was the last one on it. I considered hiding under one of the seats and letting the bus take me back home. Instead I forced my feet off of it and onto the campgrounds where Marten waited patiently. We walked in in sync to the cabin loop where we separated into our assigned cabins.

Girls were already placing their colorful bedding on the bunks and hanging posters and lights on the walls. Some had even brought beside carpets so they wouldn’t have to step on the cold concrete floor in the morning. I must admit I wasn’t much different with decorating my bed space.

I climbed on the last top bunk and began to spice my space up a bit. I brought portable twinkle lights to tape to the ceiling and little bookshelf that I could hang on the edge of the bed. I figured the girl below me wouldn’t mind if I put my beige bedside mat, so I spread it out on the floor. I stuck the three books I had brought into my shelf and then put down my bedding.

I just brought plain white sheets with a pale blue pillowcase over my pillow, and my fuzzy comforter. Just because I was shy of words didn’t mean I didn’t have good taste.

“Wow!” One brown haired girl told me, “Your space is so pretty!”

My cheeks flushed and my hands grew sweaty again. “Uh, thanks,” I said.

She smiled and went back to her bed, which I noticed was almost all white with a cartoon unicorn on a small pillow and twinkle lights in cotton ball clouds she had hung. And then I noticed her photos of friends and her family strung on the wall. Wow. She had gone all out.

The day went by fairly quickly. We did crafts and learned knots. Then we had hamburgers for dinner, following with free time.

Finally bedtime came, and I had not spoken my mind once.

We showered, got our pajamas on, and brushed our teeth. I climbed on my top bunk, exhausted. Everyone was quiet except for a few whispering, giggling girls, so it wasn’t hard for me to fall into a deep sleep.

My dream was vivid, and I almost felt awake. I was in a garden with lush bushes and colorful flowers. Statues and pavilions were scattered across it, adding a fancy look.

Walking around in wander of its beauty, I came across an old man watering the plants. “Who are you?” I asked, curious.

He simply replied, “I am the gardener.”

I watched him kneel on the dirt and pull out some weeds. He then pulled out scissors and began to trim the longer stems at the base of a bush.

“What are you doing?” I questioned.

“Trimming the bush,” he answered.

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, the bush will look messy. However, if I trimmed a persons words, it would be the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“A person needs to grow, so if I trimmed their words, they would always keep to themselves, unable to reach out.”

The dream faded against my will, and moved on to something about cupcakes sabotaging the Oreo factory.

Fourteen years later…

“Good morning students!” I said, “Today we have a very important lesson. It’s on speaking our mind.”

The students groaned, but I just smiled. I picked up a basket and went to the first desk, “I want phones, tablets, fun books, fidget spinners, and slime all put in this basket. Then I want everyone to sit straight and look at me. There will be a test on this subject, and as there is no books and chapters you can study, I advise you listen.”

The students eyed each other nervously and stuck all their occupations in the basket.

I went back to my desk and placed the basket on it. The pupils made sure their eyes stayed fixated on me as I began to speak. “I am going to first tell you a story.”

Groans and rolling eyeballs filled the room.

I raised my eyebrows, but continued, “Once there was girl who was afraid to speak her mind…”

***

Sorry if there’s any typos and stuff 🙂 I hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely day! ❤️

Wanderlust ~ a poem by Danielle

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Wanderlust

Here I am and here I stay.

No matter how I want to stray.

I want to leave this same old place.

A place coated with sugar and lace.

Stay here! They call to me,

You haven’t seen all you can see!

I have, I reply with a sharp tone,

There’s nothing in this boring zone.

I want to leave, I want to wander!

See all the many wonders!

Can’t you grasp there’s nothing here?

Nowhere to gape at, nowhere to peer?

I’ll leave someday and satisfy

The constant tug that makes me cry

For places I have never been,

For animals like birds that preen.

Tigers and Elephants everywhere!

Even a small and jumpy hare.

Yes, every moment I have to, I must

Quench all of my Wanderlust.


I hope y’all enjoyed my poem! Have a fabulous day. 🙂 Side Note: This was posted on my other blog originally, so that’s why the picture has my other blog’s address on it.

 

Hello There!

Hi everyone! I’m Danielle, and I’m the newest addition to this blog. Here are five  facts about me so you can get to know me a bit better.

~ I am in the middle grades

~ I have two pet parakeets named Avis and Lemon

~ I have two other personal blogs (click here and here to see them)

~ I am currently plotting and writing three novels

~ I love to draw and paint

(bonus fact!) ~ I call my readers Hoodians (catch the reference?)

I am so excited to be a part of this blog, and I hope y’all enjoy my feature posts. Goodbye for now, fellow hoodians!