Whispers from an Invisible Life

By Armani Mondragón

“Staying quiet is not only safer, it’s more magical than trying to fit in, than trying to understand people. I have to be mute, I have to be no more than a whisper. Anything louder might echo and bring this world crashing down on my head.”

Despite having no voice, this girl still has magic, and her invisible life is far from forsaken…

Written in a series of essays and poems, this book is told by a child as she survives her days of poverty and loneliness by seeking out a hidden whimsical world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312259829

Book preview

Whispers from an Invisible Life

Whispers From An Invisible Life

Armani Mondragón

As always, dedicated to my daughter, Dylyn... and to my hero—my dad.

And a special thank you to Amy Bardwell

for taking the time to proofread my words.

© Copyright 2013

All Text Rights & Cover Images Belong To

Armani Mondragón

ISBN 978-1-312-25982-9

When It Began

It is a difficult thing to catch the moon in your hands, but when I finally did I proved what I had always wanted to believe: magic does exist. Even here in this grey box of forgotten dreams, sliding down from the crushed lid, magic has found me.

I couldn't hold the moon for very long.  She pulled towards heaven, growing ever bigger until I finally lost my grip. Then just like that, she spun over and over like a penny flipped for good luck until at last she splashed into the sky. Moonlit drops sprinkled everywhere and I made a hundred wishes. Even now, I’m still waiting for most of them to come true.

We're forever connected because of that, the moon and I.  When she squints into a half-moon, I know she's winking at me – our secret. I have so many secrets… and not all of them are magic.  Some of them prove only that bad people and monsters are real.  But when I caught the moon that night, me di cuenta, I realized I could write in some of my own story, I didn't have to leave it all up to the others.

I say my story—and it is, but it’s also hers. Especially hers, since she refuses to leave the yesterdays. Once That Day is gone, she never takes a step in today and never thinks about tomorrow. She doesn't like not knowing what's going to happen; she hides and won't come out until it's over. Maybe that's why she seems stuck at seven years old, while I keep growing up. When I'm lying in bed, she runs and plays in everything that's already happened.

I don't understand how or why we split apart, since we always end up sticking together again, yet that's what we do. Through all the pain, the tears, and the hardest times of all, the times that really separate us from everyone—the non-tears—we have never left each other for very long.

no me crean quando lloro,

they don’t believe me when I cry

maybe because I refuse to cry out loud

I won’t give them tears…

after all,

tears are all I have

and

I will keep them close

until they form a river

allowing me to sail beyond

That Day

forever

Mapmaker

There are so many squiggly lines leading here, there, and even waaaaaay over there.  Where should I start?  I decide to follow a very wise hobbit’s advice and begin by taking one step out my door.

I hold on tightly to the map allowing no breeze to take hold and run away with it.  It is my map, found buried in a pile of old books.  It’s written in a strange language, but I have used my decoder wand to reveal it will lead me to Atlas!

All day and into the night I follow the squiggles, but they bring me full circle.  I’m back here and here is not always where I want to be.  I have to outsmart the tricksters of