Short fiction

The Girl Who Couldn’t Talk

Sophie was very quiet.

‘What a strange little girl,’ people would remark. ‘How very quiet she is.’

What people didn’t know was that Sophie had a secret.  Sophie couldn’t tell anyone her secret because Alfie wouldn’t let her. Nobody could see Alfie because Alfie was invisible.

Sophie had long dark hair and big blue eyes and when she smiled, she showed two rows of even little teeth. Her hands were tiny, perfect like a doll, but her fingernails were bitten and ragged. When people talked to her, she would chew her fingers and look at them from under her eyelashes. Sophie could read books, and she knew nearly all of her times tables, but she couldn’t talk. At least not whilst Alfie was there.

Alfie was always there. He was there at school. He was there at the supermarket. He was there at the swimming baths. The only time that he left Sophie alone was when she was at home with her family. Alfie didn’t have any family of his own so it made him sad. Alfie didn’t have friends either, and he didn’t want Sophie to have any. Sophie had started school two weeks ago and so far he hadn’t let her talk to anyone. Mrs. Florence, Sophie’s teacher, had written a letter to her parents. She didn’t know what it said because the words were joined up, but she sat on the stairs and watched her mum cry as she read it, and saw her dad hold her hand and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Sophie’s parents took her to see the doctor. He asked her lots of questions and wrote lots of things in his notebook. He looked at her from over his glasses, and he didn’t smile. After a very long time, he stood up and left the room, leaving her and Alfie sat on the couch.

Sophie slid off the couch and walked towards the door. She turned the handle slowly, and opened it. She could see the doctor talking to her mum and dad in the corridor.

 ‘Selective mutism,’ she heard the doctor mumble. Sophie wanted to scream. But of course Alfie wouldn’t let her.

 Sophie’s favourite day was Wednesday because that was the day that she did Art at school. Sophie had her own special crayons, and they were all different colours. She had a red one and a blue one and a yellow one and a green one and a purple one. She had a black one too, but she didn’t like to use that one because she liked colours. Alfie liked the black one, but he couldn’t draw.

Sophie’s least favourite day was Tuesday, because that was the day that she had Reading. Everyone sat in a circle, and took their turn to read out of the book. Sophie loved to read. Her favourite stories were about castles and dragons. She didn’t like reading in front of everyone, though. She knew the words, but when she opened her mouth, they wouldn’t come out. The other children would sit and stare as she tried to get the words to come out of her broken mouth. Alfie would laugh. Mrs. Florence would say that it was okay, that she could do it next time. But Sophie knew that it wasn’t okay, and next time she still wouldn’t be able to do it, so she would sit there with red cheeks, trying not to cry.

The only person that didn’t stare was James. Sophie liked James. He had brown eyes and curly hair and she thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He always looked very smart, and he had shiny black shoes.

His desk was next to hers, and sometimes she would watch him out of the corner of her eye. James would empty his bag at the start of the lesson, taking his pencil case out first, and then his school books.  He had a red pencil case.

At playtime, Sophie stood in the corner of the playground. She wanted to go and play with the other children, but Alfie wouldn’t let her. He didn’t want her to play with other people because he didn’t want to be on his own. Sophie told Alfie that she didn’t want to play with him because he was mean to her, but Alfie wouldn’t listen. She wished Alfie would just go away. Everything had been fine before he came along.

Sophie pretended that she was happy not to play with everyone else. She brought along her books, or her crayons, and would sit and listen to the trees whispering, or the cars grumbling on the road. Sophie wasn’t happy, though; she was very lonely. Sometimes Sophie would watch the other children play, and imagine that she was playing with them too. She would imagine that she was catching the ball, or playing Hide and Seek, or laughing. She would imagine that the other children liked her and wanted to be her friend. Then the bell would ring, and she would go back to her lesson, surrounded by people but still alone.

Sophie was excited because it was Wednesday. She had told her mum that she was excited all Tuesday night when they were making dinner, and all Wednesday morning as she was getting ready for school. Her mum had laughed and told her to be quiet and eat her breakfast. Sophie had eaten all her breakfast, even her egg, which she didn’t really like. She had put on her favourite red coat and her mittens and had shouted at her mum to hurry up or she was going to be late for school.

On the walk to school, Sophie told her mum all about James and her mum agreed that he sounded very nice. She told her mum that he even had a red pencil case, and red was her favourite colour. Her mum said that he sounded even nicer, and maybe he could come over for tea soon.

Sophie talked and talked all the way to school, her breath smoky in the cold air so she looked like a dragon. She talked and talked until they reached the school gates, and she saw Alfie waiting for her.

Sophie had waited all day for Art so when it finally came, she felt very tired. She got her crayons out and lined them up. Red first, then yellow, then green, then blue, then purple, so her desk looked like a rainbow. She left the black one in her bag, which made Alfie very angry. Mrs. Florence told the class to draw something that they liked. Sophie liked lots of things, so she spent a few minutes deciding. She liked chocolate, but she didn’t have a brown crayon. She liked the sun, but her yellow crayon had run out.

Sophie decided to draw a cat. She drew it in orange, with a red tail, and green whiskers. She gave it a smiley face. She thought it might have just eaten a mouse.

Sophie wanted to draw a picture for James because she wanted to be his friend. Alfie told her that she was being stupid and James wouldn’t want to be her friend even if she drew him the best picture in the world. Sophie ignored him. She picked up her blue crayon and started to draw. Alfie tried to distract her by stealing her crayon, but she snatched it back. She dropped the crayon on the floor, and it rolled next to some shiny black shoes.

James picked up Sophie’s crayon and smiled as he saw her pictures. ‘I like your cat,’ he said.

Her hands clutched James’ picture. Alfie tried to grab it, so Sophie kicked him under the table. She pushed the picture towards James.

‘Is this for me?’ he asked, smiling. ‘Do you want to be my friend? What is your name?’

Alfie tried to stop her so Sophie karate-chopped Alfie in the throat.

‘Sophie,’ she said. ‘My name is Sophie.’

Charlotte Brazier