Silence, Someone Isn't Speaking

Silence, Someone Isn't Speaking -Prolog

[[A/N: Hello everyone. Once again, in a fit of writer's block rage, I wrote and created and deleted and rewrote something new. Sooo....I'm not quite sure where this one is going yet either, but bare with me. If you have any ideas, let me know. And as always, any and all votes and comments will be more appreciated than you know. The fans and people who leave me comments are the ones who give me the courage and motivation to keep writing. Thank you all! :D ]]

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Silence, Someone Isn't Speaking

'*~{Prolog}~._

Faye awoke to the silent vibrations of her cell phone under her pillow, the muted buzzing tickling her into wakefulness. Her eyes shot open and she quickly slid her hand underneath the thin pillow to retrieve the cell phone her parent's didn't know she had. She turned off the alarm she had set to wake her, and slowly peeked out from beneath the covers of her bed, hoping no one had heard the phone.

She sighed with relief when no one was there and the house was still silent.  Faye took a moment to stretch her sore body, wincing as the mix of old and new bruises flared to life at the movement. She was going to be really sore today. She didn't waste much time dicking around. She hurriedly and quietly got up and made her way to the door-less doorway of her room. She stopped for a moment, wary of being seen. As she peered out, she looked one way, then the other down the hallway. One direction led to her parent's room, and the other led towards the living room and only door out of the house. 

The coast was clear, so she quickly ducked across to the hall, her footsteps soft and muted in the carpet. She thanked some invisible deity for whomever invented plush carpeting. When Faye got to the bathroom doorway, she once again peeked inside before going in. Clear. She entered the dark bathroom and silently closed the door before she even thought of turning on the light. If she made sure to close the door first, the light normally didn't wake her parents. She then locked the door behind her. It was the only door with a lock in the entire house besides the front door. The bathroom door was flimsy at best, the faux wood grain no real barrier at all in such a cheap apartment, but even so, the lock would give Faye some warning at least.

She stared at her reflection in the dingy mirror of the dimly lit bathroom. Her hair was left down last night so it was a mess... She brushed it out, being sure that when she lifted the brush from the counter top she made as little noise as humanly possible. Faye had grown her hair into the long chocolate brown waves that she saw before her, not because she liked long hair, but rather out of necessity. She tilted her head and examined the small bruise on the pale skin of her jaw that she had gotten yesterday. Nothing that anyone would notice once her hair was in the way.

She brushed her teeth next. It was the one thing she was truly almost religious about. She brushed in the morning and at night, and after every meal. The idea of nasty breath and rotted teeth freaked her out. When she was done, she spit the foamy paste from her mouth, and rinsed as quickly as she could. She checked the ten year old Disney watch she wore on her wrist. Cinderella smiled up at her on it's face as the little hands tick tick ticked the seconds. It was now 4:15 AM. Faye took a second to breathe. She still had enough time to get ready and get out of the house before her parents woke up. She wished that she dared risk a shower, but that was just asking for trouble. 

When she finished brushing her teeth and hair, she left the bathroom just as silently as she had entered it, once again scanning the hallway for any sign of her parents. Nothing. Faye faintly heard the loud snoring of her step-father coming from down the hall. How her mother slept through that, Faye would never understand. She shook her head and quickly ducked back into her room. Sadly there was no door there to make her feel any safer, and with no door, she didn't dare to turn on the light. She padded over to her closet, which also had no door, as quietly as she could. 

She waited a moment for her eyes to readjust to the dimness of predawn light that lazily filtered in her dirty window before she chose anything to wear. Most of her wardrobe was the same. Long sleeved hoodies, long sleeved sweaters, high necked t-shirts, ill-fitting jeans, and the one pair of shoes she owned. They were her present for her sweet sixteen, two years ago. A pair of black and neon green, Metal Militia Etnies.  They were old, the laces a bit worn, but they were one of Faye's very few treasures so she took excellent care of them. The color was still bright, the Metal Militia insignia still clean. She smiled one of her rare smiles into the dark as she reached for them. 

She also grabbed a black, zip up sweater with a deep hood even though it had been warm out recently, a plain white tank top to compensate for the thickness of the sweater, and some dark blue jeans. She dressed as hurriedly as she could manage, constantly keeping an ear out for the snores of her stepfather to stop and one eye on her doorway. She checked her watch again, simply to look look at it as she sat on her bed, sliding her socked feet into her shoes. She had gotten the Cinderella watch when she was eight years old. It was the last thing her real father had ever given her, and even though she was much too old for Disney movies, she still wore it. It was her other treasure.

It helped her remember a time when things were still good...

She quickly shook her head, dispelling those thoughts as she stood, making sure her shoes were on all the way. They wouldn't do her any good now. She crept to her bedroom door once again. She could still hear the snoring of her step-dad. Well, that was a good sign at least. Faye grabbed her backpack and tossed it over her shoulder. It was a deep royal purple with neon green and black nautical stars all over it. It was the third treasure she owned, the fourth and final one being the cellphone she had bought for herself.

Faye had a bank account and a trust fund set up by her father before he died. The account had enough money in it that it had accumulated some serious interest since she was eight. Faye never touched the account, not wanting to alert her stepfather to it's untapped presence. As a minor, she only got a small, monthly allowance from the account, but even that she hardly touched. She had pulled out only enough to buy the cheap little prepaid cellphone and she used it more as an alarm clock than anything else. Faye didn't have any friends at school. There was no one she could call or text. She got the phone more as a life line, a small splurge that helped her feel normal. She took the device and shoved it in her baggy pant's pocket as she peered out the doorway of her room. When she was sure the coast was clear she quickly scurried down the hall and out the front door. 

She took a deep breath but she didn't stop to relax. She moved down the complex's walkway and towards the elevator. Once she was in the elevator, she would be clear. She tried not to watch over her shoulder as she moved, her head down, hood up, but not looking made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She risked a peek...

The door to the apartment was closed. She was almost to the elevator and no one had noticed her missing yet. She might have a calm day today. She quickly jogged the last few feet and pushed the button on the elevator repeatedly. The elevator was old and it was cranky; it moved at its own pace, and occasionally broke down, but it was better than trying to jog down the numerous flights of stairs to the ground level.

'Hurry up!' Faye mentally snapped at the machine. The longer she had to wait for it, the more and more anxious she got. 

She was so absorbed in pushing the button she didn't hear an apartment door open. She was so distracted watching the little red numbers above the door telling her the elevator was getting closer that she didn't register the footsteps getting louder. When the numbers finally announced her floor, so was so flooded with relief that she didn't pay attention to the smell of stale cigarettes, cheap beer, and the stench of unwashed flesh near her. 

"Where do you think you're running off to, you little bitch?" 

Faye barely had time to register her step father's sleep-slurred snarl before he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back towards the apartment. She squirmed and writhed, tripping over her own feet. She tried to pry her stepfather's fingers out of her hair, but to no avail. His hands were huge and his fingers were fat; when this drunk got a hold of something it didn't get away.

Faye didn't scream as he tore hair from the roots, dragging her back into their little apartment. She didn't whimper as he tossed her to floor of their soiled living room and slammed the door behind him. 

And she did her best not to cry as he beat her senseless...