Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Before walking inside, I finally caught a glimpse of the cute little cotton-top girl whose blond hair was a mess of curls, pulled back into a confused ponytail. Like most mornings, I tried to do her hair and failed royally. I couldn’t figure out how many times to loop the damn hair band. It was either too loose or so tight it would give her a facelift. And those baby hairs—what the hell was I supposed to do with those little hairs?
Star was sitting on a swing, slowly moving back and forth and seemed to be watching a crowd of kids who were playing Red Rover. I could tell she wanted to play, but it was as if she was afraid of some invisible force lurking in the darkness.
Star was afraid to get close to anyone. If only she could open up and learn to trust others enough to be happy. I’d give anything to see a smile on my niece’s face again. There was just one problem: I was her sole caretaker and just about the worst example for any kid to mirror their life after. We both found comfort in locking the whole damn world out.
I walked inside, angry that I couldn’t do more for her. She deserved the best, and as far as I could tell, I was failing miserably at giving her that. Whereas most kids her age couldn’t be paid to shut up, Star barely spoke a few words in a day. It was a stark contrast to the chatty two-year-old I remembered my brother gushing about.
“I’m here to see Counselor Durdin.” I rattled the keys in my pocket, playing it cool, but not fooling myself.
The woman behind the counter pushed up her glasses. She was a pretty girl, with bright- blue eyes and a soft complexion, but she had a severe, red slash across her mouth that had been done up with too much lipstick. The woman didn’t need that much makeup, but noticing the scar marring her lip, I could understand, probably more than most people could.
To this day, I could still feel the presence of all ten toes from my left leg, even though it had been torn from my body in combat. It was easier to mask the injury, than give others the opportunity to ask me about it, or even worse, pretend like it didn’t exist. I hated the moment others would stare, the way their postures would change ever so slightly, the way they’d avert their eyes like they’d been caught staring at something they shouldn’t be seeing. It was easier to avoid the whole damn experience all together. I’d rather stick fucking needles in my eye.
“Have a seat, and she’ll call you back in a moment.” She pressed a button on her phone and then as I took a seat in a black plastic chair, which had been molded for much smaller people, I heard her relaying the message that I was there.
I stared at the Bison mascot mural for what seemed like ten minutes, before I heard my name called. “Mr. Owens?”
I looked up to see a professionally-dressed older woman, with long black hair down to her waist. I stood as she held out her hand and took it, surprised when she gave it a firm shake.
“I’m Hattie Durdin, the school’s counselor. I’m so glad you were able to make it today.” She turned and led me into her office, shutting the door once we were inside. She offered me a seat across from her desk and I sank my large frame down into it before speaking.
“I’ve been wondering how Star has been progressing in school. Thank you for arranging this meeting.”
“Mr. Owens, Star’s adjustment at this school is important to both of us. I was assigned to follow up with her by her caseworker in Boston. The case worker called me earlier this week to ask how Star has been holding up.”
“Case worker? I hadn’t been aware a case worker was assigned to Star.” I said, slightly annoyed that no one from the state of Massachusetts cared to inform me of such a pressing matter.
“I’m sorry you were not made aware. I’ll be working with you to keep you abreast of everything going forward. I learned the move for Star has been quite a change for her. The poor girl has been showing signs of it too. Are you aware that she doesn’t speak here at school? That’s a sign of a child that’s been through severe trauma much like Star.”
“Yes, I’ve had conversations with Star’s teacher about it. We are doing our best to help Star adjust. It hasn’t been easy.”
“I see.” She paused to write something down in her legal pad. “Mr. Owens, normally we would use discipline in such matters, but Star’s situation is unique.”