When She Speaks (Rewritting soon)

Chapter 11- **Mini Update**

A/N:  Thank you all for your comments/votes/ support. I'm very grateful to have such lovely fans!  I know it's been a long time, so thanks for sticking with this story.

It's a short update, but I wanted a little feedback before I continued any further!

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Happy Holidays! 

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Not Another Sound: Not edited....

  "Star, you need to eat. You will not leave this table until you finish your dinner." My mother said. My mother dotted her eyes with her favorite silk, handkerchief. She tried to stay strong but she couldn't stop the tears.  

"Star!" My mother said. "Please, eat."   

I looked down at my food with disdain. My stomach felt heavy and weak.  Even though the sharp pains in my stomach continued to grow stronger, I still refused to eat.  

"Star, it's been three days!" My mother yelled weakly. Her voice sounded like a deep sob.  

I know, mother. 

He wrapped his arm around my mother's shoulder.

"We can't let her starve. She has to eat." Thomas said.

  I wanted to laugh.

You have never cared about me. Why do you want to pretend to care, now? 

My mother slammed her wrists on the table.  "Don't you think I know that? I've been trying to get her to eat for days! But she refuses to eat! She refuses to do anything!" 

Violent tears stung her ears and she had finally hit her breaking point.  My Brother wrapped his arms tightly around my mother. She leaned into his chest and used him as her crutch.  Her eyes looked different. Her eyes looked broken and lifeless.  She sobbed harder and harder into his chest. 

My mother was a strong woman. I had always viewed my mother as a symbol of strength and hope. Even after my father's dead, she has never cried in front of either of her children. Even after my father's dead, she never cried in front of either of her children. After my father's dead, she cried in private quarters and stayed strong for her children.  I never thought I would ever see my mother break.  To know that I was the root of her pain and misery was unbearable. A searing pain raced through my body.  The pain was neither hot nor cold. My body felt numb. 

I didn't want to see my mother cry. I just wanted to run. I wanted to race out the front door and run into the forest. I wanted to let the wind whisk me away to another place or another time.  I pushed the plate forward. My plate was piled high with food.  I had stared at the plate for hours and hours.  But the smell of food made me feel ill. I stood up and walked to the front door. My mother’s cries echoed in the distance. From the corner of my eye, I could see my brother rocking my mother in his arms.  He whispered,  “It’s going to be okay. Things are going to get better.” He tried to comfort her with calm and gentle words. But, we both knew it was all a lie.  The future looked bleak for all us and we couldn’t fight for another day.

I slipped through the back door and the wind pushed the door back with a hard vengeance. The door slammed and it was the only sound I could hear. I could feel the summer air touching my left cheek and the bright sun shined over the darkest cloud. The sun should have been a symbol of light and hope. But, I knew the sun would eventually fade away and it would be replaced a dark skyline.

Light never stayed for very long. The old, brown steps creaked beneath me as I made my way to the back garden. Most of the flowers were wilted and dead. The roses were aged with cracks and seeping to the ground. Petals that were once red had turned black.  The only symbols of life in the garden were the yellow sunflowers. Beneath the yellow sunflowers were my father’s ashes. Even though his ashes had deterioratedover time, I could still feel his presence here. My mother devoted most of her time to taking care of me. She used to spend all of her days in this garden with my father.  When she wasn’t spending her time worrying about her only daughter, she re-visited her old garden.

Maybe, she felt his presence lingering among the yellow sunflowers. My mother planted a row of yellow sunflowers every summer in memory of my father. 

When I was six or seven, my mother decided to build her own garden. During that time, the entire family was under a lot of financial stress. My father was working long hours. Every year, my mom tried to grow sunflowers and every year she would be disappointed when the sunflowers never grew more than inch tall. She tried various brands of sunflowers but nothing seemed to work.  One day, my father came home with a new brand of sunflower seeds. He promised her that this year the sunflowers would grow up to ten feet flower.  And just as he promised, the sunflowers grew ten feet tall.  That was my mother’s favorite summer.  My father did love her and he went to extreme lengths to make her happy. The sunflowers were his way of saying, ”I love you.” My father was a man of very few words and he rarely shared his emotions or told his own children that he loved them.

I took one last look at the garden and walked back into the house. My mother had her head buried in my brother’s shoulder and his body shook as he tried to hold her close. I couldn’t bare the sound of her tears.  I walked into my room and collapsed into my bed.  I wasn’t sure if tomorrow would be better. Would tomorrow would be the beginning of something worse?

The next morning, I woke up at dawn.  The sun was bright and vibrant but it didn’t have an effect on my gloomy mood. I showered and dressed quickly.  I could have taken the bus to school but I decided I wanted to walk to school. I didn’t want to face James or any other kids.  My mind was usually filled with thoughts. But today, I just listened to the sound of the wind whistling in my ears. My mind was empty and numb.

James didn’t make any attempt to speak to me or look in my direction. He was keeping true to his word. He was going to stay as far away from me as he could. He was so much better off without me. He talked to everyone and everyone loved him. People were drawn to James and he welcomed the attention. At lunch, he sat at the popular table. My long time enemy, Amanda sat beside James.  Even though James had rejected her earlier this semester, he welcomed her attention. Amanda pressed kisses down his ear and his neck. Her hand was resting over his knee.  I felt physically ill. I couldn’t stand the sight of them together.  He could have any other girl in the world.

Why did he have to pick her?