WORDS

Mabel, an otherwise ordinary 6th grade girl, loved words. In search of Adjectives, adverbs, onomatopoeia, and nouns, she dove through her Oxford Dictionary like an explorer into an uncharted jungle. Some of those words, like the hook of your favorite song, would get stuck in her head for weeks. The most recent example was her obsession with the word Epiglottis. According to the Oxford Dictionary, epiglottis is defined as the flap of cartilage at the root of the tongue, which is depressed during swallowing to cover the opening of the windpipe. To Mabel, the word sounded closer to the name of an ancient species of Galapagos tortoise. Every time she coughed or cleared her throat, she would think of that little flesh flap and whisper its name silently. EPIGLOTTIS, EPIGLOTTIS, EPIGLOTTIS, the word spun wildly through her mind like a pinball for almost a week. Last week, the addictive word was JUDICIARY. 

On her first day of school at Edison Junior High, all the students from every grade gathered in the gym. In rows on the bleachers and sitting cross-legged in neat rows on the floor, Mabel was surrounded by strangers on all sides. Most of the student body, having spent their whole lives in this small forgettable town, knew each other in passing. The only real stranger here was Mabel, and she knew it just as much as they did. As the students talked amongst themselves, Principal Eaton made his way to the front and grabbed the microphone for his big welcoming speech. Principal John Eaton had always thought of himself as a showman. Once the show had ended and they had been separated into groups by grade, Mabel found herself in a small classroom with a handful of other kids her age. Standing at the whiteboard looking buoyant and beautiful, Mrs Avery wrote her name in green expo graffiti as the class took their seats. 

“Good morning everyone,” Mrs Avery beamed at her reluctant students. “I am Mrs Avery, your homeroom teacher this year. And this…” She twirled, gesturing towards the whole room in a spin that swished her dress. “Is your homeroom,” Mrs Avery finished with a smile. “Today is all about icebreakers'' she continued, but Mabel was lost in a fog of panic. Her plan of staying in the shadows, clearly wasn't an option anymore. Separated yet again into a smaller group, nervously reading over the worksheet Mrs Avey had given her, Mabel couldn't think of a single acceptable answer to her questions. Even such a simple question as What's your favorite color, felt like a booby trap meant to expose her weakness and weirdness. There seemed to be an infinity of possible answers, and one by one she had sorted through the options. Red? No, can't pick red. Kind of a boy color, an angry color. Blue? so basic. Everyone likes blue. Yellow? Yeah right. Is Purple too pretentious? I mean obviously, I can't say…

“Alright everyone, that's enough time for your worksheets.” Mrs. Avery announced suddenly. Looking over her worksheet, the only thing Mable had written was her name. “Now please, one by one, introduce yourself to the group in whatever order you would like.” Perhaps if she stayed quiet enough, they would forget she was there. Just as she had hoped, the group introduced themselves first before turning their attention towards Mabel. “What about you? What’s your name?”  the athletic-looking boy beside her asked patiently. “Mabel” she whispered nervously back. “Mabel, cool… I'm Ethan in case, ya know… you forgot already. You're new around here right?” Mabel was paralyzed with fear, unable to do so much as think of a proper response. The group stared at her, on their faces, Mabel could see mixed reactions of annoyance and pity. After a long uncomfortable silence had passed, Ethan spoke up. “Ok then…” Ethan laughed, his patience already expired and his interest already lost. One by one, the group went right back to talking like she wasn't there. Mabel figured it would be easier this way, safer than attempting to be herself only to be met with ridicule and rejection. Her parents, aggressively polite and welcoming people, had taught her that lesson already. 

No matter how much she loved them, Mabel's parents were just as distant at home as Mabel was at school. To make up for their constant emotional absence, they had showered Mabel with gifts she had no real interest in. Polly pocket playsets, the Girl's Guide to Adventure! Activity book, an awful little doll that screamed and shat with the best of them, Over the years Mable's parents had spent thousands on hollow plastic piles of property. Once her novelty wore off within the first few weeks of school, Mabel was totally invisible. For years, she floated through the halls like a lost spirit through a graveyard. Whenever she felt small and scared, she reminded herself things were better this way. With no parents or peers to worry about disappointing, living her non-life as nobody just made sense. Even so, Mabel couldn't help but wonder if there was some other way. Some way she could start over in a new school with a new family. The kind of family who remembers your birthday, and can't wait until you get home after school. 

The kind of school where everyone was just as familiar and friendly with Mabel as they were with each other. Stuck in a world that didn't care for her in the slightest, she did what any smart young girl would do. She started working on a plan. 

Her first idea was simply to bag her bag and catch a Greyhound bus, but the idea sounded dangerous and uncomfortable. What would she do once she made it to the city? Wouldn't they be able to track her by her ticket and follow her? In the end, she scrapped the idea, but she never stopped working on her plan. After months of library visits and internet searching, she finally had an idea that seemed possible.

 Exciting even, her perfect getaway to a whole new life using the best friends she ever had. Mabel planned on using her words. words like PERPETRATOR, DEFILED, VIGOROUSLY, JUDICIARY, and NONCONSENSUAL. Words she had first met between the pages of her dictionary, words full of power and consequences. Using the magic hidden in those ordinary words, Mabel would write a letter like a blacksmith forges his blades.Over several more weeks, she would write multiple drafts of her letter on the plain lined pages of her English notebook. Adding more detail to certain sections and removing repetition from others, felt as soothing for Mabel as a long hot bath. In the comfortable privacy of her bedroom, she had spent the last few days describing every small detail she could think of. The smell of her father's stinging alcohol breath the first time he had invaded her bedroom for a midnight visit. All of the tears and rage that had collected into her pillows as she screamed in pain and horror. The shock of seeing that same sadistic smile on her Principal's face. The helpless depression that comes with being helpless and victimized. Of course, Mabel's whole story was completely made up.

After countless hours of hard work describing her endless imaginary traumas, she had a full eleven pages of neatly handwritten testimony. A masterfully written work of the purest and most depraved exploitation possible, full of filthy nouns, verbs, adjectives and onomatopoeia. The effect of reading those eleven pages was similar to someone infecting their computer with a virus. Once her beloved words had been fully read and understood, they quickly went to work destroying one's faith in humanity. 

Rewiring the way you think about those you love, in semi-permanent spirals of disbelief and disgust. A big brown and red stain on the plain white fabric of memory. Despite its subject matter, the final letter read more like a legal document than a little girl's confession. 

The next morning during her first-period English class, Mabel printed copies of her letter in the school's computer lab. With five rows of tombstone computers perched in front of just as many disinterested students, it was easy to miss Mabel sitting in the back of the room.  As she went about her work, printing out the pages and putting them into neat envelopes, Mabel wasn't worried in the slightest about being noticed. Although Miss Avery had sent them to the computer lab to work on their individual essays, The only one sitting by herself was Mabel. Scattered across the computer lab like chewed bubblegum under a school desk, her classmates had clumped into small giggling groups of ghouls. Just like they had done at every recess, lunch, and gym class she had ever taken part in. They were pack animals, who long ago decided to ignore and abuse her for no reason at all. All she had to do was make it through one more period, one more day of being invisible. 

Unstable Mable, as they often called her, didn't want to join their pack anymore. Around halfway through the period, With her letters all printed and ready to be handed out after class, she surfed the web to kill some time. Instead of heading to one of her usual flash game websites, she typed PENIS PILLS into the search bar and hit every suspicious-looking link she found. Local singles in her area, videogames that promised to make her cum in 5 minutes, Online casinos where you could win thousands of dollars, dark web porn sites with more animals than people, and rich Nigerian princes danced across her monitor in a flood of open tabs as she set out to destroy as much of the computer as possible. 

Once she had around twenty or thirty of these links running at once, she could see the computer starting to spasm and twitch. Watching the struggling computer cling to its sanity, Mable felt better than she had in a long time. A few minutes before the period ended, Mrs. Avery snuck back inside silently. “Alright class” she announced, managing to capture the attention of most of her class. “We are out of time for today, so please save your essays and log out,” Mrs. Avery beamed. The class offered her a not-so-quite groan in response. Silently waiting in the back of the room, Mablel’s computer screen shone a bright ERROR 405 blue. 

“And Remember” Mrs Avery continued, “We will only be visiting the computer lab one more time before essays are due on Thursday.” Before she could finish her announcement, the bell cut her off. As soon as they heard the sound, the entire class lunged for the door and darted their way out into the hall. The entire class, except for Mabel. Instead, she waited for the stampede to end before gathering her letters and making her way towards the front of the class. Mrs. Avery, having already returned to her seat at the front of the room, eyed Mabel nervously as she approached. Unlike all of her other students, Mabel wasn't in a rush. For Mabel, this last bit of her time at Edison Junior High was essentially a slow lap around the bases. Whatever happened next, she had already won. 

Walking slowly and relishing the tension, Mabel handed Mrs. Avery her letter without saying a word. “Your essay, Mabel?” Mrs Avery asked her, as Mabel's smile started to grow. “You bet,” Mabel told her with uncharacteristic excitement, before heading out into the hallway without another word. As she passed out the rest of her letters to her various teachers, she felt the excitement one feels after a good game of ding dong ditch. Like a flower girl carelessly scattering petals down the aisle, she handed out her letters with pure delight. With every letter she passed out, she felt an invisible weight slowly fall to the ground like a suit of heavy armor. The hard part was over now, all she needed was a good place to watch the fireworks.

 As she walked out of the school's double front doors for the last time, she thought she had just the spot. Right on the corner, a block away from the school itself, sat a small gas station often overflowing with students skipping class or buying lunch. So early in the day, so early in the week, she didn't think it would be too busy. Half walking half skipping down the cracked sidewalk, Mabel enjoyed being seen by the few friendly folks who passed her. A kind-looking old woman waved as she passed, and the 2 women exchanged smiles before heading their separate ways. Even at the gas station, the cashier was polite and friendly as she counted her change and settled her tab. 

In her fantasy version of what was happening, Mrs Avery had been her first victim. Alone except for those tombstone computers, Mrs. Avery would read as much of the letter as she could before blowing chunks into the nearby paper recycling bin. Her chunks now blown, Mrs. Avery would run to the office at top speed with the click-clack of her high heels echoing behind her. Crashing into the main office like a lobbed tomato, Mrs. Avery would demand Principal Eaton read what she had just read. At first, her colleagues would try to calm her down with warm tea and sugary snacks. When that inevitably didn't work, they would ask her what had made her so hysterical in the first place. It would be right around then, with Principal Eaton already reading the letter, that another frazzled teacher would rush into the room like a ghost. Then another, then another, and before she could imagine anymore Mabel was attacked by a strong fit of the giggles. Her giggle quickly turned into a laugh, which quickly turned into a roar before Mabel could catch her breath. Like chickens, she thought to herself. Running around like scared chickens. 

As Mabel sipped her slurpee and watched the school, She could hear the sound of police sirens growing closer and closer.