I stood there with a pen, waiting for her to write. She could not talk, since she was mute, but her notepad served as her way to communicate.

But it stayed shut, and her pen was tight in her grip.

"Come on, write something," I said, looking at the notepad. "Tell me if you agree."

Yet she just stood still, not moving, as the wind softly rustled the leaves.

"Alright, I'll wait," I said, reaching for her hands, which she pulled away.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked off, her head lowered. I was left with many thoughts racing in my mind.

After she had walked some way,...