Spelling Bee

How would you spell that?

The girl sat at her desk, she stared at the paper in front of her with a tenseness in her brows and her lips pushed upwards in concentration. It was her list of words to learn for the week: again, place, years, know, over, wear, old, boy, home, and seven. Seven was the girl’s age, so she felt like that was the most important on the list, but it was important for another reason too. Seven started with an S, the very letter she thought the word she was trying to spell started with.

Words were confusing, she was always told to sound things out— but she knew better than that. O's and U's were so similar. Th's and F's were as well. Then there were silent letters sometimes— how was she meant to sound out words when it was possible half the letters made no sound? Nonsense! Spelling was nonsense! Yet, she tried. She felt as if figuring the word out would clear it up somehow, as if it would help her make sense of the meaning and situation.

S… Su? So?

She only heard the word once last Saturday morning from her mother's mouth. It was hardly said gently, it was yelled in fact. Screamed, maybe. The girl could feel the phantoms of the hot spittle against her forehead and eyelids, though most of the details of the interaction had been eaten up by her brain. She just knew the feelings the interaction caused— how it felt to sink into her shoulders as if her body could collapse in on itself and whisk her away. How tight her little hands grasped at the hem of her night dress, her knuckles were bone white against the pastel pinks and yellows of the dress. How heated her face got as she held back tears— or tried, since she failed miserably. It was humiliating, this ordeal had been in front of her new step brother and she didn’t want this cool new teenager in her life to think she was bad. He was her friend! She and him already had so many secrets and played all the time. Why did her mother always do this in front of her friends?

The specifics of the words yelled at her were a blur— all but that one she did not know. This one word was the crux of what got her punished. The reason. She needed to know, so she would not repeat it.

She wrote an S down on her paper and tapped her pencil on it several times. Specks of lead dusted over it and tumbled into the indent her tapping had created. She still did not know what to follow it up with, but the one letter felt like an accomplishment.

S… Se? Sa?

Her eyes flicked towards the teacher. A round, happy woman, but she seemed a bit aloof. Even at the girl's young age she thought the teacher dressed gaudily— though she lacked the word to describe it. The woman always wore mismatched, bright colours, big chunky jewellery, and a huge smile. The colours were nice, so was the clanking sounds of the jewelry, but deep inside the girl knew it was better to fit in and blend into the background. She hated attention. Still, fashion aside, the teacher was smart— smart also started with an S. Surely she would know how to spell this other S word that was plaguing the little girl! However, she snuffed that idea out of her head nearly as quickly as it came. She shook her head and hoped that idea would fall right out her ear.

Adults didn't listen to her, and when they did only bad came of it. If she asked her mother too much she'd be screamed at. If she repeated some of what her step brother taught her, her friend’s parents made ugly faces, talked to her mother, and the prior issue would repeat. She feared this word she was seeking might be bad, thus would make the teacher call home, resulting in the same outcome. She had to do this by herself. The girl knew that.

S… su…d. Yes, it was definitely S-U-D! 

She jotted it down on her paper with haste, afraid she'd lose the letters if she took too long— the pencil scratched across the paper in long, heavy strokes. 

Halfway there, she thought. She tapped the eraser of her pencil to her chin as she tried to remember past the feelings of that morning. The sun spilled through the window towards the back of her room, but she stood in the shadow of her step brother as she faced the door opposite the window. Gaps in his shadow allowed rays of lights to splash her legs and lower back. Her mother was in the doorway, her face a deep crimson. There was a sneer corrupting her pink painted lips, cracked it into the snarling maw of an animal. She spat nearly as much as she spoke, growled with frustration half as much as that. Her eyes were so wide it reminded the girl of a bug, at least looking back. Her mother was pointing between the boy's bunk and the girl’s pillow on the floor.

She had brought her pillow down from the top bunk since it was too hot to sleep so high up. She had learned in science class heat rose, so the floor was her best option to stay cool. She remembered trying to explain that through sobs, but couldn't get more than three words out. Her mother screamed the girl down, she peppered her barrage with insults the girl also didn’t know— but knowing they were insults and bad words was enough for her.

“Liar! I know you were down here to _____ him, you stupid—!”

S-U-D… Oo? Yeah! Oo. That was easy, two O's made that sound! And another S to follow! She got it! S-U-D-O-O-S.

Sudoos.

A toothy smile broke the girl's rather serious thinking expression. She was so proud of herself, however the joy of spelling this mystery word faded quickly as she realised her belief that mastering its spelling would clear up its meaning was false. Her face as well as her heart fell. She sat there and stared at the letters messily scrawled across the bottom of the paper. It seemed even her own brain failed her too.