Silent Suffering

Lisa: Michael has had a hard life which you will better understand in this chapter and the next. Thank you for still reading! ^_^

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Writing quickly, I tell my professor: Sir, are we going to show everyone our projects?

“I had planned on having everyone do that. Why?”

I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.

“Why not?” he says with a confused look on his face.

My picture, it’s very personal. It tells things about me that I’m not sure I want people to know.

“I would like it if you showed the class but I understand if you don’t want to. You can be the last person to go. I think you’ll be impressed with how honest your fellow students are with themselves. Yours is the only art I haven’t seen and all that I have seen, are extremely honest.”

Thank you. I’ll think about it.

My professor nods and I go sit down in my seat. The professor sets up an easel in front of the class and asks for volunteers to come forward and show their work. Nobody raises their hand for a while but then Lex volunteers and goes to the front with her canvas. She puts her work up and I am surprised by it. It’s a woman’s abdomen and it’s splashed with black, red and pink. It’s very roughly done but that makes it more beautiful and intriguing.

“Hi. This is really personal but I guess that’s the point of the project right? This painting is based off the song ‘Held’ by Natalie Grant. Well, I was umm… pregnant last year. I had a miscarriage so that’s what this is about. The baby was a girl and I lost her. It was a hard time for me. I had left school to have her and I stayed out when I lost her. I’m actually almost 23. I should have had my degree by now but I’m glad I came back for it. So yeah… this is my painting.” Everyone applauds and she takes down her work. The next student comes up and reveals his work which is about when he attempted suicide and finding the light that made his life worth it. His song is ‘Jumper’ by Third Eye Blind. More students go and I realize that everyone is being as personal as I am and being honest in their art.

“Michael. Do you want to share yours with us?” I feel a moment of indecision and panic but I decide that I should. I stand, holding my sketchpad to my chest. I put it on the easel but don’t back away for a second. The picture is of me stepping off my own tombstone with my arms out. It’s me after the rape and beating. I’m naked and there are bruises and blood on me, especially running down my legs. My right wrist is hanging wrong from where it was broken. In the background, my parents, Charlie and Zach are visible, hands out trying to reach me. The only colors are the bruises, the blood and the roses on the grave next to mine. I look away from my sketch, keep my head down and move next to the easel.

I start to write on my notebook when I hear somebody say, “I know ASL if that’ll be easier.” I nod my head and begin to sign. It’s strange hearing my story coming from someone I don’t know. “This sketch is based off of the song “One Last Breath” by Creed. It’s about when I was attacked over Winter Break. I was…” my hands and his voice stop but I force myself to continue. Everyone else was honest with themselves. “I was raped and severely beaten. The flyers about the student who was attacked outside a nightclub, that’s me. This isn’t just about that though. The, the stone next to my own is that of my first boyfriend. He died in a car accident right before college. The people in the background are my close friends and my parents. Life’s been hard to deal with and that’s what this sketch is about. I want someone to keep me from finishing that step because I don’t think I can stop myself.” The student’s voice stops and there aren’t any noises. I grab my sketch and sit back down without looking up.

“Thank you class. Every single one of you has shared your soul with the rest of the class and I want you guys to keep that up. I want to hear about what you guys think of each other’s work. Lex, as you went first, which art did you find was the most impressive artistically and which one shared the most soul? They don’t have to be the same work.”

“Artistically I would have to say Daniel’s. His work of color was amazing but the one with the most soul, sorry Daniel, was Michael.” I looked over at her, surprised that she chose me. “You were so honest with yourself. Your story was… sad and I applaud you for actually sharing it with us.”

More people go and the number of people who choose me makes me actually tear up. “So, Michael, are you glad you shared?”

I write, yeah. I was worried about the way people would receive my picture and thus how they would perceive me but I feel much better now. I feel accepted which is a new feeling for me. Thanks you guys.

The class packs up and I pull out my phone. I text Charlie asking if he can come over tonight because I have something to tell them. He says yes and I am determined to be honest with them just as I was with these strangers.