A Loss For Words

she was today. Her third grade teacher sparked Ellery's desire to become an author. The assignment had been simple. Class today, we're going to use our imaginations. Get out your pencils and notebooks. We're going to write stories about a far off land. You can make it be whatever you'd like it to be. We'll work on our stories over the next hour or so, and the best ones I will

display in the hallway for everyone to enjoy. Amanda Beardsley near the end of her tenth year of teaching third grade at Joseph B. Wellington Elementary, she realized most students would turn in bland stories that poorly mimicked the tales they'd read in the literature book. She'd taught this lesson long enough to know what usually came from it. However, every once in a while a child surprised her. Ellerie Langston exceeded all expectations. Ellerie, can I speak with you

for a moment. The children lined up at the door, waiting for the bell to ring that signaled recess's arrival. Ellery stared wide eyed at her teacher and nodded. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and the little girl fought back the urged cry or throw up. She feared she'd lose the battle to both. Slowly, she walked towards Missus Beardsley's desk. Seeing the girl's apprehension, Amanda softly spoke to her and patted the seat next to her desk. Ellerie, you're not

in trouble, honey. Come have a seat by me. Only somewhat reassured, Ellery made her way to the front of the room and sat next to Missus Beardsley. Her teacher had no clue. She was the closest the girl had to a mother in this world, and Ellerie would rather die than disappoint this woman. She so admired, Ellery, you aren't in trouble. I want to talk with you about your story. The little girl's knees nervously bobbed up and down. L your story is amazing. Relief swept across her face.

Tears welled once more, but this time as a release of the anxiety that ebbed away. Really, Yes, has a When anyone ever told you that you're a gifted storyteller?

continue writing. My dad hates it when I write stories. I don't want to get in trouble. How about we keep this just to ourselves. Then, I want you to keep writing, and I want to keep reading your stories. Can we do that? Up and down? Yes, Missus Beardsley, just please don't tell Daddy. I promise I won't. This is our secret. But someday I believe people all over are going to be able to read and enjoy your writing. I really believe you have a future as a writer.

The quiet little girl smiled. No one had ever noticed her in a positive way before, and while happy, she felt unsure about her newfound praise. Missus Beardsley gave her hand a squeeze. I'm happy to read your stories anytime you want to write them. I'm proud of you. Now go on outside and play. As she watched the trees through her window, Ellerie sighed, that was a long time ago. I wish Missus Beardsley could have seen my writing success. I'd love to be able to let her know what

her confidence in me did here. I am a well known, my own author, with a few best sellers to my name. I owe it all to her. Missus Beardsley kept her word to her young student. She read everything the girl brought her, and she offered encouraging critiques to help her reach her full potential. When Ellery was a freshman in high school, however, that all changed. A tragic car accident out of state claimed the life of her mentor. It was a loss she'd grieve for all the years to come.

In honor of Missus Beardsley, however, Ellery became determined to hone her skills and someday be the writer deserving of her teacher's praise. You saved me in more ways than one, Missus Beardsley. Your love and support helped me survive the hellish home life I was stuck in. If it wasn't for you, I may not even be here. I wish i'd been old enough, had the perspective enough to let you know that when you were still alive. She thought back to those people who tormented her, both at home

and at school. Her father's abuse was untenable, and his behavior scarred Ellery for life. She wanted to believe that her mother, had she lived, would have protected her. When Ellery was only four years old, However, her mother died of a sudden aneurysm. By the time the paramedics arrived, it was too late. A tear was ripped through Ellerie's

life from that moment on. Scared and vulnerable, she was an easy target for an already unstable man, Bryce Langston took his hatred of the world out on his daughter, and no one noticed. At least no one did anything about it. Plenty heard and saw the abuse she endured, but they were content to put blinders on and ignore her torment. Before Missus Beardsley entered her life, Ellery felt invisible. Unfortunately, at school she was all too visible for the bullies

who seemed everywhere. They made fun of her clothes, her red hair and freckles, and her toes that stuck out from holes in her sneakers. At moments like that, she wished she was invisible and disappear. How sad is it that a five year old no longer wanted to exist? When I cried, they tormented me even more. The pain felt as strong today as it did all those years ago. Her chest tightened, and she felt her heart pound a little harder. Children can be so vicious. They don't get

any better as they age either. Once word leaked out in junior high and high school that Ellery fancied herself a writer, her tormentors gained another feather in the quiver of taunts. Being brazenly intelligent as a girl made her immediately a target for the popular kids who favored conformity over self expression. Now that they knew she wrote stories, there was no end to the mocking comments they made.

Missus Beardsley remained her safe haven. She met after school with her beloved teacher, where she shared her hopes, fears, and writing. You saved me when no one else would. My writing career will always be in honor of you. When I was a shy, sad girl, you gave me perspective and hope. Ignore them, Ell, you are a gifted, wonderful girl, and I doubt any of them are someone you'd want to spend ten minutes with. Ellery heard the

words write down to her heart and soul. No one influenced her more than Missus Beardsley, A woman who didn't have to take her under her wing, but she did love like hers would never be taken for granted by Ellery. Her high school years, marred by her classmate's abuse and ostracism, became nearly unbearable. After Amanda Beardsley's death, Ellery lost all interest in writing. I lost my words. My heart was too broken to put any writing on a page. I

imploded and withdrew even further into myself. I even considered suicide. Tears formed in her eyes, and she noticed the sun sank deeper into an early afternoon horizon. At peace once again with her place in the universe, Ellery looked at her laptop, where her next manuscript remained barely begun. This

one is special. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a precious note written years ago by her mentor at an especially difficult time in the early days of her freshman year, mere weeks before missus Beardsley's death, her confidante and biggest supporter wrote her a note that carried her through the dark times when she lost her will to write. Gingerly, unfolding the paper, Ellery re read the words written in the clean cursive writing of Amanda Beardsley. Ellie,

now let anyone take your words. You have a powerful boss and get accomplished anything in Imason. As far as the people who see Arty Town, always remember that a life express revenge is made in those who have hurt them characters in our sorious nus. ELLERI held the note to her chest and took a soothing, deep breath. She sat at her desk, note in clear sight, and began typing. A smile crept into the corners of her mouth. Yes,

this book is special. Welcome to My revenge. With each piece of dialogue, her wretched characters spoke, their real life counterparts experienced a distressing problem. Her character's words flowed swiftly and abundantly, but with each keystroke, their namesakes lost their own ability to speak. By the time she finished this poignantly appealing book, another bestseller, no doubt her tormentors would be truly at a loss for words. Ellery smiled and

typed gleefully Late Into the Night. Thank you for joining me for this episode of the Into the Night Anthology podcast. Written by Caroline Giamanco, narrated by Nari Quak. Theme music by Nico Rodriguez, all other original music, sound design and editing by Omenhawk Studios. You can find our links in the show notes. Into the Night is on your favorite podcatcher, So make sure to like, subscribe and leave a five

star review to help other excursionists to join us. You next time, and remember, whether in the shadows or in the daylight, all twisted paths lead you into the night. Into the Night Anthology is a creative typo entertainment production high excursionists. It's October my favorite time of the year. With spooky season upon us, I wanted to tell you a little about our Halloween special. Usually we have some kind of spooky story, but this year we are doing

something different. I have a new project that will be coming in twenty twenty five that will have a sneak preview on October thirty first. This will be a collaboration between my personal production studio, Sadie Works and my friends at Omenhawk Studios. A compelling world of research, old gods.

threat from the cradle of civilization. Join us on October thirty first for a tale you won't soon forget.