The Life of Charlotte Diaz

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"I think I'm falling in love with you." **** Seventeen-year-old Charlotte Diaz is the mute nobody at school. Living with her grandmother, she tries to forget all about her haunting past. But when a certain blue-eyed boy needs a shoulder to cry on and she's the only one there, her life begins to take a turn- for the worst or the best- she doesn't know. What she does know, is that leaving behind this blue-eyed boy might be harder than she thought- especially after breaking down the walls surrounding him. Silence is their way of communicating. But when senior year comes to an end and reality comes crashing down again, there's only so much Charlotte can do to leave with her heart still intact.

Romance / Thriller
Age Rating:


"Charlie. Get outta bed. It's time for school." My grandmother croaked from downstairs.

I opened my eyes almost instantly and hopped out of bed. My grandmother was a sixty-one-year-old woman. Her shiny, black hair fell straight down to the small of her back. She had electric blue eyes, that were dulling with every week that had passed. My grandpa, her husband, had died of a heart attack just two years ago and she was still grieving over it. Despite the lack of love that I was shown in my life, I felt for her. I didn't understand the meaning of love, but I sure as hell knew what heartbreak felt and looked like. I would help my grandmother as much as I could and I was both relieved and scared that I would be leaving after graduation this year.

With five more months until the end of my senior year, I was ecstatic. I wouldn't have to endure much more of being bullied by my fellow peers at school. I was already saving up as much as I could so that I could go right into college as soon as I could.

As soon as my feet touched the cold, wooden ground, I went to my dresser and pulled out a black T-shirt that had the words Sleeping with Sirens written across it. I didn't listen to much music, but for some reason, Sleeping with Sirens had made its way to my top favorite choice of music. After tugging that over my head, I pulled on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, and I put on some mitch-matched socks before sliding my feet into my worn out, grey converse. I ran a quick brush through my curly, blonde hair, and then covered it with a blue beanie.

Looking in the mirror, I bit my full, pink lips at the incredibly, visible bags underneath my striking, hazel eyes. If I had cared about what people thought of me, I'd have put on some foundation to try and cover it up. But I didn't care. Therefore, I didn't even look towards my make-up kit that was hidden in my closet.

I glanced at the mirror one last time, before latching onto my bag and bounding down the stairs. I heard my grandmother mumbling under her breath. When I entered the small, but quite cozy, kitchen, she looked up and sent me a smile. She had a steaming cup of green tea in her hands and she handed me a cup of coffee with vanilla creamer mixed in. At that, a small grin tugged at the corner of my lips. She knew me so well.

"Hello, darling. Are you excited for today? It's Friday." She sang with a hearty smile. She didn't know I got bullied, and I wasn't about to tell her so she would worry about me even more.

I didn't answer, simply nodded to her question and took a sip of my scorching, hot coffee. I closed my eyes in bliss as the creamy liquid ran down my throat and soothed my sore throat. My grandmother didn't look hurt. She was used to my mute self. She was just fine with me acknowledged her.

It didn't used to be this way. It was different. Back when I lived a happy life. I would speak. I would talk and laugh and smile. But that at all changed five years ago, when I was twelve years old. At the age of twelve, heartbreak had struck me hard and I haven't spoken since that horrifying day.

I always wondered why I didn't die. Why was left alone in the world and had to deal with the grief by myself. I still wonder that now. But I have more of an answer for myself. The fact of the matter was that I survived it. Despite going through the traumatic experience and still having the life-lasting scars on my body, I survived. I was a survivor and that was what I had to keep reminding myself.

"After you get home today, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies with me; just like old times. We could even see that new movie you seemed interested in. Uh, what was it? Veronica Mars?" She asked me, lifting her eyes to me to ask for confirmation.

I nodded my head. I thought the movie looked interesting when I had seen a preview of it.

She smiled. "What'd you say, darling? You wanna see it after school?" She asked hopefully.

I didn't really want to do anything, truthfully. But this was my grandmother. The woman who had taken care of my for five years straight without any complaints. The woman who put a roof over my head, clothes on my body, food in my stomach. The woman who cared for me when I needed someone the most. The woman who promised to never leave my side willingly. Remembering all of that caused me to nod my head at her in approval. I would pull up my girl panties and spend some quality time with my grandmother. Who knew how long I had with her?

Her lips bloomed into a full-on smile and she nodded her head back. "Great! Now, you should get going, darling. School should be starting in thirty minutes. Off you go, now. Have a good day. I love you." She said.

I dumped my cup in the sink and was just about to leave, when I stopped. I looked back at my grandma, who was squinting down at the newspaper in her hands. I walked over to her and planted a soft kiss on her wrinkled cheek, before disappearing out of the door.

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