"What do you have there?"
A soothing voice spoke to Micah who was busy making crayon drawings. He covered his papers with his hands and looked up at his teacher, Ms. Greene. Micah didn't speak so he simply stared at her, hoping that she would go away and bother another student. Ms. Greene smiled. "It's okay, Micah. You keep working. Can I see them later?"
Micah thought for a moment. His fingers relaxed and he touched the grainy crayon lines on his construction paper. He nodded.
"Great," Ms. Greene replied. "I'll check on you in ten minutes, okay?" She walked away, leaving Micah to his coloring. The first grader coughed as he rummaged through the crayon bin that sat on his table. He sat there alone. The other kids in class preferred to avoid Micah and all sat at the other tables in the classroom. Ms. Greene tried her best to get the other students to interact with Micah but it was of no use. Once she had Kiri sit with Micah during silent reading time and within fifteen minutes, Kiri was in tears and Micah had said nothing as usual.
"What happened, Kiri?" Ms. Greene asked as she rubbed the little girl's back and patted her tears with a tissue.
"Micah said things," Kiri said between sniffles.
"What kind of things?" Ms. Greene replied.
"Bad things."
Ms. Greene knew that Micah didn't speak so she wasn't sure why Kiri would burst into tears because of something he supposedly said. The girl wouldn't explain further either. Ms. Greene asked if Micah had hit her or had done anything else physically that would cause her to cry but Kiri said nothing like that had happened. This wasn't the only time Micah had made one of his classmates cry and there was typically an incident weekly so Ms. Greene thought it would be best for Micah to sit by himself at his own table. He seemed to prefer it that way as well.
Micah loved to color and draw but he never liked to show Ms. Greene what he was actually drawing. This concerned her and she knew that he was bringing the drawings home but his father had never contacted her about the drawings he made in class. She started to think that the drawings were probably not an issue since there seemed to be no concern from the boy's father. She decided to let Micah do his own thing during class free time. Micah would do his classwork and stay seated in his chair. The boy would always turn in his homework and for the most part, was well-behaved aside from making other kids cry because of words that may have not even been spoken. Ms. Greene wondered if she would ever catch him speaking but six months had gone by with no word heard.
When Ms. Greene revisited Micah after ten minutes had passed, he still wouldn't let her see the drawing. The boy scribbled loudly and dragged a black crayon across the paper that sat in front of him. Ms. Greene watched from her desk while her class did arts and crafts. The other students were fingerpainting while Micah continued his drawing from the morning. He scribbled and scribbled with the thick black crayon held tightly in his small fist. Micah seemed intensely focused on his artwork and Ms. Greene noticed his lips moving as if he were whispering. She perked up at her desk and watched the boy silently. Micah threw down the black crayon, rummaged through the bin, and then pulled out a bright red one. He scribbled and scribbled while seemingly muttering something silently to himself. Ms. Greene wondered if he was making even the slightest noise. As far as she knew, and as far as his father and doctor knew, Micah was completely mute. He went on scribbling and muttering while Ms. Greene watched.
The bell rang and Ms. Greene realized that she had lost track of time. The kids in class began packing away their belongings and frantically tried to clean up the mess left behind from arts and crafts. Their chatter grew heavy.
"Okay class! Let's clean up and get ready for the busses!"
The teacher helped the kids clean up, then she helped them gather their coats and backpacks. There was a knock on the door in the bustle of the lively classroom full of children ready to go home for the day. Ms. Greene opened the door and a familiar face popped its way in.
"Look kids," Ms. Greene cheered, "it's Mr. Fayton!"
Mr. Fayton waved. "Hi everyone! Ready to go to the busses?"
The children cheered happily and followed Mr. Fayton out of the classroom while waving goodbye to Ms. Greene.
"Bye kids!" Ms. Greene said to the children as they filed out of the room but then she felt a tug on her sweater. Ms. Greene looked down to see Kiri standing close to her, looking up with big watery eyes.
"Oh? What's the matter, Kiri?"
The little girl sniffled as Ms. Greene knelt down to hear her.
"Micah," Kiri simply muttered.
Ms. Greene looked up and realized that Micah had not moved from his table and was still frantically coloring on his pages of construction paper.
"Kiri, why don't you go catch up to Mr. Fayton, okay? I'll take care of it."
Kiri nodded. "He said bad things again."
Ms. Greene looked at Kiri's teary eyes and then the little girl ran out of the classroom and down the hallway to catch up with the others. She stood up and watched Micah for a moment. It was as if he didn't notice that the bell rang and it was time to go home. Ms. Greene sighed.
"Micah?" She walked a little closer to the boy. "Didn't you hear the bell?"
The little boy didn't take his eyes off of his drawing.
"Micah," Ms. Greene said sternly, "it's time to go home. Your father is probably already waiting outside for you."
No, he isn't.
Ms. Greene's ears rang. A voice hit her eardrums and she gasped. Then silence. She watched Micah continue to draw. Her breath became heavy in her chest. Micah wasn't even looking at her. It was just him and the drawings.
"Micah!" Ms. Greene raised her voice. "It's time to go home!"
But I want to show you.
There it was again. A voice boomed in Ms. Greene's ears. She clenched her teeth as she felt a slight pain at the side of her head. She reached her hand to her ear and when she pulled her fingers away she saw specks of blood. She gasped and looked up in Micah's direction. He had stopped drawing. Crayons were down on the table and he sat straight in his chair with his head turned. He stared at Ms. Greene. His eyes pierced through her and she felt like she could barely breathe. His mouth remained closed as she heard the voice in her ears again.
Look.
Ms. Greene apprehensively approached the boy. She stepped over the tile floor of the classroom and stood at the opposite side of Micah's table. He remained sitting straight in his chair as he spread his papers across the table's glossy surface. Ms. Greene shuddered as she looked down at the pages. She quickly realized something. They were scribbled drawings of some of his classmates. She recognized the drawing of Kiri when she saw the green bow in her braided hair. Ms. Greene shuffled the papers around on the table, processing the drawings in front of her. They were all drawings of the kids who had complained that Micah was saying horrible things to them. Ms. Greene felt like she was about to swallow her tongue. She moved one page of construction paper out of the way to see another drawing. This one wasn't of a child but what looked like a grown man with glasses and a mustache.
"Micah," Ms. Greene said as she pointed her finger to the paper, "is this your father?"
He can't hurt me anymore.
Ms. Greene felt tears in her eyes. "Micah? What did you do? What have you been saying to your classmates?" She looked at the final paper and realized the drawing was of her. Micah had scribbled her black hair and the red sweater that she was wearing that day. She looked up at Micah.
You wanted to see.
You won't leave.
Everybody hurts me.
Ms. Greene was about to ask Micah what he meant but her ears became flooded with words, horrible words, secrets from the past, reminders of her mistakes, and every terrible thing that was said to her in her life. Ms. Greene fell to the cold tile floor, unable to scream, as Micah stood over her. He had his papers in his hands and walked over to his cubby. He carefully placed his artwork into his backpack while Ms. Greene convulsed on the floor. He didn't have a jacket with him that day so he put on his backpack and quietly left the classroom.