Quiet Anonymous

"Why are you so quiet?"

"Do you speak?"

Those few words would make the color of my pale cheeks turn to the brightest shade of red because they always sounded so judgemental. To many, it's only a simple question. Steaming curiosity formed from the lack of sound that fills the air as I stand among extroverts. Though, to me, those words were filled with venom, as if they were questioning my place in society because of my quiet nature.

I'm in third grade.

I can distinctly remember the phone call. My mom held a perplexed expression as she recognized my school's number on her screen. She looked in my direction with a questioning gaze before she pressed the answer button. It was my third grade teacher. She was calling to schedule a conference. I looked down at the floor tiles as my small feet dangled from the dining room chair, "Have I done something wrong?" I thought to myself. The minute I look up, my mother lets out a deep sigh and says, "Your teacher is worried about how quiet you are in school." Why is my personality worrisome?

I'm in sixth grade.

"Why are you so quiet?" asks the obnoxiously loud boy sitting next to me. He carries an annoyed tone in his voice, seemingly bothered by my lack of extrovertedness. I tighten my grip on...