I’ve always loved a blank notebook. I love to run my hands along the fresh, crisp pages, and I love to fill up those empty pages with words that are all my own. This notebook is my chance to have my own words.

When I was little, people would always say to me, “Use your words, Lela.” I wish that I could use my words. I don’t know exactly what it is that I’m scared of. It’s just that when I open my mouth, I feel almost as though I literally can’t speak. But right now, I can use my words. Right now, I can say all those things I could never say.

I’m looking out the window right now, down at the parking lot. As the people come and go, I wonder what they’re doing here, what sort of life they lead. Some autumn leaves drift downwards. I wish I could catch one and hang it from the ceiling, a reminder of this time to me. It’s not a good time, necessarily, just a time to be remembered. The girls here are helping me to, “use my words.” Holly says we have to have hope. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to do it on my own.