I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
I used to be an enthusiastic child with an over-all hyper-active imagination. I used to be filled with energy, jumping around frantically while singing aloud cheery songs that eventually satisfied my parents. I used it to take them out of their boredom and bring even the slightest happiness.
I was a child full of energy, but you could never compare to what I am now.
I was young when it happened. All I remembered was sitting with my mother on the front seat while she clutched me inside her arms. She covered my eyes, shielding me from the horrifying scene occuring. I heard the frantic screeching of the tires and the next thing I knew . . . our car slid off the side of the road, tumbling towards the edge of the cliff . . . but it did not fall completely—not yet. At first, the car threatened to fall—tipping back and forth tauntingly. My mother had pushed me out and sent me rolling on the ground before they ever fell, leaving me alone and crying for them to come back. But no matter how much I beg of them to do so, the fact of them leaving me made a sharp pang of sadness pierce its way to my heart.
From then on, I was taken under the care of my beloved aunt, who was sweet and loving herself. She was a kind woman who gladly took me in despite of how different I am from before.
Yes, I used to laugh, I used to run outside and spend the whole day play with the children in games that were extremely tiring. But that was long ago before the incident finally happened, for I finally remained silent since that time. Instead of playing outside and hanging out with the kids around my age, I chose to stay home, do my homework and watch the television all day.
My aunt had brought me to several doctors in hopes that there must be an aid to my absolute silence. But then, all of them had stated the same thing. There never will be any progress, except for me recovering from the hurtful occurrence which I could hardly forget—seeing your parents die in front of your eyes isn't the best thing that happened in my life.
And they both happen to leave me . . . on my birthday. Since that incident, I considered that day the worst day of my everyday life. Even if it was meant to be celebrated because I'm slowly aging and reaching my maturity, it felt as if I was celebrating my parents' death as well.
I was scarred for the rest of my life--a severe trauma inflicted upon me by a tragic accident.
I’ve undergone several therapies like the doctors recommended. But none of it ever worked. Each situation of me being forced to realize that my parents are gone only led to the point of me breaking down and locking myself into my room the whole day, without talking to anybody. Only Rosy had the privilege to enter my room. She somehow provided comfort for me.
I did not wish to be mute. The complete curse of utter silence hindered me from communicating with other children that I wished to be with. Only one person had ever been there for me, the only one who understand all of the experiences that I have suffered during the past days of my life.
The person I was previously referring to was my cousin, Rosalind, or whom I call Rosy for short. She was a cute nerd with long, curly blond hair and hazel colored eyes like mine. She was pretty if she would fix herself, I communicated with her through the use of sign language, which we both decided to learn so we can talk with each other—I cannot depend on a piece of paper and pencil forever. She got it easily, and understood me completely with simple and frantic waves in the air. However, it took quite a long time for me to learn.
The sign language we learned was the simple American sign language alphabet, so as to keep things simple and easy for both of us.
“I can never understand why you refuse to speak.” Rosy stated, frowning and sparing me a sideway glance. We were currently watching our favorite show, which is the Glee episodes while sitting comfortably on the beige sofa on our living room.
