Unspoken

Bryna was exhausted. She found that she could no longer sleep at night, memories of that night plaguing her each time her eyes shut or her mouth opened, resulting in a lot of yawns and dark bags under her eyes that were seemingly stuck to her for good. Not that anyone noticed her, anyway. Which was good. Because if they noticed Bryna they’d expect to be noticed in return, and then they would realise Bryna’s oddity which would lead to what was, in her opinion, the worst word in the English language; why?

So she handled her sleep deprivation like she handled all her other problems; she didn’t. She kept her mouth closed and locked away the memories where no one could ever find them. Bryna was content with being silent and invisible-she embraced it, even. Her mother, on the other hand, was not so fond of the idea of a muted wreck of a daughter. Bryna didn’t understand why no one would accept her for being silent, expecting her mother at the very least to try and respect her choices without demanding answers that Bryna was incapable of giving.

On that particular Saturday morning, which had started out as boring and mundane as any other, Bryna stepped lightly down the stairs, being careful not to make any sounds and awaken her sister. She wore faded jeans and a dull grey sweater, her light brown hair pulled back from her face in what just barely passed as a messy bun. She stopped in front of a mirror and stared at her decidedly ordinary face. She was plain; the perfect face for an invisible girl. She then walked into the kitchen where she discovered a card. An appointment card, specifically, the type that one receives with booking an appointment for a doctor. In this case, it was a therapists office with an appointment for Bryna herself that upcoming Thursday at six p.m.

Her eyes grew wide and she felt a paralyzing fear. Therapists meant doctors, and doctors meant questions, and questions required answers, which required talking, which Bryna couldn’t do. They would want to know why, know what had happened that night.

His hands were on my shoulders, pushing me farther and farther back I just wanted to leave why didn’t anyone help whywhywhy…

The words on the card started to blur as she began trembling, hands shaking so badly she dropped the card on the floor and had to sit before she gave herself a panic attack. Immediately after calming down, Bryna snatched a pen and paper from the kitchen counter and wandered off to find her mother for an explanation.

Bryna wrote furiously on the paper, filling it in with questions and refusals before thrusting it into her mother’s hands and crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. Bryna’s mother didn’t even bother trying to read the piece of paper, and instead rolled her eyes at her daughter’s actions and said, “It’s already done Bryna. You’re going.” She really was worried about her eldest daughter and her blatant refusal to talk. What she just couldn’t seem to grasp was why? What had happened to her that made her go from a bright and happy girl to the sullen and gloomy teenager, who never even cracked a smile, she was now? She knew seeing a therapist was the best thing for Bryna, but staring into her daughter’s hurt-filled eyes, she began to second guess her decision.

“I’m sorry Bryna, but what else do you expect me to do?” she asked in a defeated tone.

Bryna just stared at her, before taking back the pen and paper and running into her room where she locked the door, turned off the light, and flung herself down on her bed in an extremely over-dramatic manner.

He was grabbing me he wouldn’t stop I wanted help and the door wouldn’t open it’s not my fault oh God why won’t it open…

She didn’t open the door, even when her mom began banging on it so loudly that her sister woke up and started knocking on the door too, angry about being woken up so early. But Bryna didn’t care, she was upset and there was nothing to do to get out of this problem, so she ignored her family and hoped for something, anything, to stop this appointment from happening.

Despite her wishes, Thursday evening had come and Bryna’s mom had succeeded with dragging her all the way to the therapists office, where she now sat anxiously waiting for her name to be called. Her knees bounced up and down, hands gripping at the chair’s arm and body hunched forward, She knew this was important, and that it would most likely help her, but still…

Suddenly, she felt a light tap on her leg. She whipped her head up, expecting him, but was instead met with dark eyes, trustworthy eyes, belonging to a boy around her age who was leaning forward, hand mid-air. “Mind stopping?” he asked, gesturing toward her leg. Bryna stopped but didn’t answer, she didn’t answer anybody for that matter. Not that he would know that.

She leaned back into the comfortable chair and wrapped her arms around herself, looking quickly up at her mother (who she’d sat as far away as possible from) before proceeding to pick the black polish off of her nails.

“Thank you,” the boy said after a moment. Bryna refused to meet his gaze, and instead tried to sink even further back into the seat. As she did that, the boy stood up and plopped himself down in the chair directly on Bryna’s right. Now she did look at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him watch her and wondered the whole time what he was thinking.

He stared at her for a few seconds before extending his hand, “I’m Dan, and you are?” Bryna stared at the hand reaching out for her, trying to decide what to do, when suddenly the woman at the front desk called out, “Bryna Jacobs, you can go in now.” Bryna glanced at Dan who quickly mouthed “Good luck” before standing up and making her way to the door leading into the therapists office.

Bryna didn’t want to talk; she wanted to disappear, thoughts of everything that had happened disappearing along with her. So, for her entire hour-long appointment, Bryna just stared blankly at the doctor, or Alexandra, as she prefered being called, who talked enough for the both of them. Bryna just didn’t want to speak; why couldn’t anyone understand? Speaking meant she’d have to talk about that night, the night her depression got really bad, the night her whole life fell apart. She’d have to tell them the whole story, tell them about him. And telling would certainly entitle everything but invisibility. So she spent an hour more in silence, just one more insignificant hour of her life, then left.

And, because today was just not her day, she bumped into someone on her way out. She looked up to see who it was, and of course saw Dan’s dark eyes looking at her, just like earlier. “Hello again, Bryna,” he said and smiled. Bryna pushed him away and walked over to her mom, signaling that she was ready to go. But the way Dan had looked at her, it filled her with a strange feeling. Almost like, for once in her life, everything would be okay.

Week after week, the routine was the same. Every Thursday, her mom would drive her the fifteen minutes to therapy, which was helping Bryna, even if only a little. She wasn’t talking, and didn’t want to, but the desire to disappear wasn’t as strong anymore. And she got to see Dan. Her only friend, the only one who didn’t judge her so openly. Her life may not have been perfect, not by any means, but Bryna didn’t feel so empty and tired all the time anymore. And she may not have been talking, but she was smiling, and that was as much as anyone could ask for.