Broken Tongue (First Try)

Talking is a daily progress, a necessary need in life, one major communication tool. "Hello, I would like to order one thin crispy Halloumi pizza with tomato" "Hi, I am Ms. Al …., and would like to apply for a job in your company" "Three tickets for Ace Age, please" "I need the bank's average rate for 17 April" "Could I have a smaller size please?" "One tall latte please" She told her parents about the speech therapist visiting her at school and wanting to talk to her about her stammer; they called school next day and asked them how they could do such a thing without their permission. Mrs. Shaikha was shocked "Why permission? We are trying to help your daughter"; What Mrs. Shaikha didn't know is that she has raised it as a problem, the girl didn't think of it as a problem as she does now because of the way it was treated before, her therapist would observe her in class and tell her teachers how to deal with her without the need of taking her out of class, without the need of her feeling she is different than others. Her parents refused and told Mrs. Shaikha that they will help their daughter their way. She has always thought that her stammer was permanent and managed to cope with it, few tears when angry or frustrated and all will be good. He was sitting in the opposite side of the table staring at her. She looks at the people sitting to her side and motions to them to see this guy staring at her in a strange freaky way. He would not stop staring, until it's time to leave. they all get out of the room and she searches for her shoes which she left at the door step; while she does that they all leave except for him, it's when he gets his knife out of his pocket and hold her arms tight, she tries to escape but her legs wouldn't move, she tries to call for help but her voice wouldn't come out, she tries to close her eyes, but her eyes wouldn't close, he puts his knife on her throat wanting to kill her, she feels her blood moving through her vessels, she hears her breath so clear and her heart beats so high. She wants it all to stop; she wants to die before his knife cutting her throat. Please don’t kill me. Though she has been having this dream since she could remember, and though she knows what will happen next, she would always wake up terrified. She has this dream when ever her stammer gets to its peak. Days past and even months since her parents called Mrs. Shaikha, life is getting better and her homesickness is reducing, she made new friends and started socializing with people but her stammer is getting worse and worse until it got to its highest level. Her parents thought that she should start therapy; they started calling people and asking for good therapists; they first called a friend of theirs who works as psychological therapist who had a stammering son who doesn't stammer anymore to see if there is any possible psychological problem that could have caused her stammer; but fortunately or maybe unfortunately there wasn't. They then thought that she should meet a speech therapist; she refused; but her family insisted and told her that she will not lose a thing. She went with them to meet her, her parents told her about their daughter's history with stammer. She then asked them to leave her alone with their daughter. "Hello" "Hi" with an uncertain smile "Tell me about your life" "It's good" "Do you go to school?" "Yes" "How are your grades?" "Good" "How good are they?" "Very good" Her answers were all short, direct to the question, and in the other hand the therapist doesn't know how to attract an angry stammering teenager to a nice long conversation. So she got fed up with her and told her to call her parents in and wait out side. In their way home her parents told her that the therapist told them that she is not a stammerer and that she is faking it. The daughter was very angry and wanted to cry badly; how could she fake her pain, tears, suffer, years of hesitating before asking a question or participating in a conversation. How could she fake it knowing that some would laugh at her or ridicule her talk; years of losing breath, chest pain and wet pillows. How in God could she fake it? "I wish that she would suffer the highest stammer ever for the rest of her life" "Don't say that dear" said her father "I wish that she loses her tongue and all her senses" "Don't worry dear; we don't believe her" her mum crying Her first try was one of the worst tries. To be continued