Malory and Kyle must participate in the annual April Fest production as the leading co-stars. If they can cooperate by the end of the production, their long records of uncivilized behaviour towards each other will be forgotten. 
Malory and Kyle attempt to cooperate, grabbing the opportunity to make a positive impact on their own future. In the process, they become entangled in the chaos of the other’s personal life. Malory learns of Kyle’s disturbing reality, and Kyle learns of Malory’s scarring past. Can these two brilliant but messy teens learn to rely on each other in the face of their silent battles?

Between The Lines

 Tuesday evening’s art club comes around. The task is to sketch the face of an individual. The face must tell a story. Completely out of it, I don’t realise that I’ve been drawing a sketch of Davidson’s bruised face. The group teacher, Mr Finch, observes my drawing. 


 “That’s... something dark, right there...” he says, startling me slightly. “You’re trying new styles again, I presume?” 


 I laugh, nervously. “Yea, that’s it, alright.” 


 When the art club meeting is over, I sit on the steps outside of the literacy building –in which both my book and art clubs are located- and I open my sketchbook to look at the image. It immediately brings the image of Kyle’s face to mind. This art piece is more vivid, pained, and expressionistic than how it looked then in reality. It gives me the chills, anyway. I shake the image out of my head and close the sketchbook aggressively, shoving it back into my bag. 


 He’s the last person I should care about. 


 He’s said some nasty things. Did some horrible things. 


 Malory, what the hell is wrong with you? You don’t even know if what you’re suspecting is true! It could be something completely different from what you’ve experienced, or from what you’re thinking. 


 I don’t feel sorry for him. I feel empathy towards him. I don’t know if what he’s going through is... abuse, but I wouldn’t... toss him into a blender if he was. I wouldn’t try to make things worse. Especially if... it’s really from his uncle. 


 I remember some of the times we had fought. Times I punched him. Times I insulted him. Times he insulted me. Times he didn’t even actively do anything but I felt provoked just seeing him. In times like those, I’d make the whole situation worse just by acting out of anger. A lot of our misunderstandings were my fault. He isn’t to be blamed for all. I guess I really have to learn to be mature about this. I snap out of my depressing thoughts and look around at the empty staircase. 


 “It’s too quiet around here,” I whisper. I find myself wondering why I miss being annoyed by that jerk. Maybe it made life a little less lonely. “This is absolutely ridiculous,” I say, shaking the thought aside.


A Silent Scream [5]