Peter Everlock-Personal Narrative

Peter Everlock. They said he was queer. They said he didn’t talk. He wasn’t mentally challenged. He was just..different. I remember the first time I had seen him. His family had only just recently moved into the neighbourhood then. It was a cold wintry Sunday morning. The side of the country where we lived in, didn’t snow. Daddy drove mummy, baby Clara and me to church. I watched the trees and counted the clouds on the way. On reaching the church, I cried out in glee when I saw a little kitten behind the rose bushes, just adjacent to the church. The kitty gazed deep into my eyes and I fell in love with it instantly. I rushed towards it to pet it in my lap. Mummy scolded me for dirtying my dress. I pleaded with her and daddy to take the kitten home. But they

A boy, of about my age, wearing a chequered brown shirt, stood next to the Guava tree. He was watching me. I stared at him with curiosity for not having seen him around before. Since I was very upset about not being able to take the kitten home, I bid it goodbye and went inside the church, not sparing the new boy another glance. Soon the news spread around the town like wild fire. The Everlocks were new in town. Mr. Everlock was a doctor and he had come to work at the town hospital. Mrs. Everlock was a sweet lady who stayed at home with his son, Peter. Peter Everlock. I remember the day when our class teacher, Miss Stella, introduced him to us in class. He appeared to be shy and only looked out the window. I wondered what he was looking at with such concentration that he didn’t hear when Miss Stella asked him to say a few words about him. As days passed, it came to everyone’s realization that Peter didn’t talk. At all. He would do his work diligently and whenever he got the time, he would look out the window. I assumed he would look at the birds as it were the only things worth noticeable. Soon a rumour flew that Peter Everlock was possessed by a ghost. Nancy said his tongue had been cut off at