Words aren’t really all that great. The sounds formed by the shape of a tongue and the movements of a mouth aren’t necessary. The only thing necessary is communication, and you don’t always need words to accomplish that. 

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Everyone looks at a painting and sees just that- a piece of paper with colorful lines and shapes on it. Her painting was simple and bland, it was ridged and lacked courage and the ability to stand out. It was walked by and ignored, the silent painting never demanding attention. Even when someone looked at it, nobody actually cared to understand the meaning and the feeling of it. 

It was hard to understand something that never spoke or was expressive, but Jim never let that stop him. Everything was expressive if you looked hard enough. 

Her painting conveyed the freedom of the slowly thinning chains that forced her silence. The empty white canvas was no filled with companionship. The two swings were painted careful with the school building behind them. The swings swayed at an even height, never sharing words yet somehow knowing exactly how to match the other. The sun reflected off the metal chains, burning into the chairs the limited the swings. Jim slowly melted the chains that Pam’s mind had wrapped around her words.

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Pam felt brave as she showcased her artwork, encouraged with the reassurance of her best friend. Very few took the time to examine it or see it properly, but all it took was one person to look for Pam to feel heard. 

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As the afternoon progressed, the two shared looks and soft giggles. Helene watched from a far, her restless heart taking a break from the fretting for her mute daughter.

Mrs. Flax watched also, shifting her attention to Pam’s mother upon her arrival. “Someone’s finally found the key to her, Mrs. Beesly.”

“He’s  just gotta twist it and push to unlock it,” Mrs. Beesly answered.

The two shared warm grins and watched the tense girl’s nails that shown red at the tips placed loosely at her sides, not fidgeting and tight at her chest. Her eyes focused on the motions of her peer, unusually still and focused. Her chains almost broken, her bravery almost peeking. 

••

Jim was enchanted by the art surrounding him, and it made his heart beat faster as he looked at Pam’s. The two swings were unmistakably their swings. He loved her neatly written signature.

He was startled by a voice behind them, “Can I buy it?” Micheal questioned.

Pam spun around, shocked. Jim had to bite his tongue to hold back from giggling. Her eyes scrunched up in confusion. 

“How much?” He reiterated, “Can I put it in my classroom?” 

Pam gave a nod then glanced at Jim with excitement in her green eyes. He hoped it would last.