The world is Cruel, and the people living in it are more cruel than ever. Yet we live in this world. We try to fit into this world, and one woman wants to be heard but is held back for nobody will give her the time of day, who wants to learn her la...
Wounds can heal when surrounded by the right people.
Milo was hit with a pillow in the face. He decided to sleep on the couch downstairs with Nora, who slept on the makeshift bed they had made the night before to watch movies. He opened his eyes to see his sister smiling. She went to run, but he grabbed her and started to tickle her as she made huffing sounds from breathing so hard her face was red. He let her go, then grabbed a pillow he was lying on and hit Nora with it. She sat up and looked at Milo. Her hair was a puffy mess, but she still looked lovely to him. She threw the pillow back at him, and they kept throwing it at each other till Milo was ambushed, and his sister hit him in the face and ran. He fell on the couch laughing; Nora got up and headed to the bathroom. When she returned, her hair was in a hairbow; she looked at Milo. He was in sweats and a tank top. She had never seen him so laid back; his hair was a ruffled mess, but he was happy even now he was happy. Milo now looked at her and smiled.
"Good morning sleep well?" he questioned through sign. Nora nodded. Milo now stood up.
"Ready for some breakfast, or do you want to find Dixie and tickle her till she pees her pants?" he signed, asking her what activities she was ready to start. Nora's stomach now grumbled, and they both smiled.
"I think food would be first on the list He signed, then put out his hands for her to grab. Nora grabbed them, and he pulled her up, this time not falling; they headed to the kitchen where his mother and father sat at a table with Dixie eating breakfast. There was so much food that Norah didn't know where to start. She sat down next to Dixie and was handed a plate. Milo went over, kissing his mother on the cheek and fist-bumping his father, then hugged Dixie. He then sat down next to Nora, looking at her shock.
"Help yourself; there is plenty of food here to feed a village mom likes to make sure we are all fed, even the old man," he signed, then motioned to his father a couple of seats down from him; he brushed Milo's comment off as he grabbed his briefcase and what Nora assumed was a cup of coffee and headed to the door once there he turned around. Nora Saw him kiss his wife. Milo turned around and smiled.
"Be safe, old man, and don't be too mean to everyone today," he signed.
"No promises on that one," he signed back, replying to Milo, then looked at his wife with a look of Mischief.
"Dear, now I know you love the pet you picked up from the street, but please return him to the wild before I get home." He signed, smiling at Milo, who smiled at him.
"Okay, dear, I will do my best to set him free, promise: Milo's mom signed as she kissed her husband one last time before sending him off for the day." Milo got up and headed to his room. Nora quickly followed; once there, she saw that he was getting stuff ready to get dressed. She sat on the floor. As she did, Milo turned around, seeing her face with a question. He approached her, sat down, and laughed.
"Yes, Nora, how can I serve you on this cold snow day.?" He signed, questioning her facial expressions. She now sat up on her knees.
"Why do you call your dad old man and not dad or father." She signed questioning Milo and his father's relationship. Milo now looked at her seriously, running his fingers through his hair.
"My dad and I have a free bond that means that I can call him by his real name or whatever I decide to; that is how it is with both my parents." He signed, braiding his hair to take it out and braid it again.
"When I was little, my father got sick. It was scary. I remember going to the hospital, and my mom said that it was because he was an old man; at the time, I was four. It stuck with me, so I would call him an old man from that day on whenever I saw him." Milo signed in really deep thought.
"It isn't that I don't love my father. In fact, he is the best dad anyone can have. He puts so much effort into ensuring we are happy and well cared for. Even now, it's the weekend, and he is working to provide for his family. He never rests; his family is first, and his needs are second. I look up to him and hope to be like him when I get older and strive to make him proud. So, Nora, I don't call him dad or father, but in a way, old man is my way of saying dad, and we both are okay with that." Milo signed, looking at Nora now; her face was understanding; she had never had a bond with her father since her mother had died. They were distant strangers if he wasn't out with friends; he was at a bar picking up women who weren't good for him in hopes that he would catch something so he wouldn't be around anymore. Even at home, they were strangers. He never wanted to be around her. It was like he was ashamed to have her as a daughter. She gave up on him a long time ago.
She felt Milo holding her hands now. She looked down and saw they were shaking. She looked up to see him with a calm look on his face. How does he do it? He found a way to calm her whenever she had an attack or was in her head. It was almost like he had been doing this his whole life; she was a mess, yet he always found ways to calm her, almost like he was Anticipating it, like he had figured her out and was ready when anything involving her happened. Milo let go of Nora, looking at her with so much understanding and empathy. He stood up to leave, but she hugged him from behind. This time, he didn't tense up or move. He just intertwined his hands with hers as they stood there. Milo let go of her hands and turned to look Nora in the face.
"Sometimes people have miserable lives. Sometimes, they go through things that they never come back from. Some call this trauma." He signed. He was now close to Nora's face, but she could still see his hands.
"Nora, one day I hope you tell me what truly happened to you, but till then, I will do what I can to help you and show you that not all people who come from trauma suffer forever. Some just haven't broken their chains and set themselves free."
He now kisses her on the top of her head. "I'll be there when you do. Till then, we will find ways to heal those wounds nobody else can see." Milo then picked up his outfit and left Nora with her thoughts.
Did she deserve to heal from this trauma? Was she strong enough to recover from this? Would she ever hear her voice again? Could she even talk anymore? It had been so long since she had heard it; would she be able to hear it? She had so many unanswered questions. Would they ever be answered? Nora wasn't sure, but one thing she was sure about was that this was her battle she needed to win; even if it were hard, she would conquer it; that meant she would fall, but she would get back up; it would be tricky, wounds that she thought were healed would be reopened and conversations she had never had she would have. She had to; He needed to know that his wife chose to die. She decided to take her own life. She chose to let her illness get bad. It was her choice. He needed to understand this and move on. He didn't just lose a wife; Nora lost a mother. He needed to know that she had been suffering too; for fifteen years, she had wanted nothing more than a mother to hug, kiss, and talk to, but the day her mother died, so did her father. He stopped taking care of himself; he didn't want to talk to her, and when he was furious, he would hit her and then stuff her in a closet without any food or anything till she apologized for looking like his dead wife, no more.
Nora now fell onto Milo's bed. Milo goes over to her towel in hand, drying his hair,
"You, okay? He signed, questioning how she was doing after her attack; she smiled, pulling him down on top of her for a hug, and they both laughed as they hugged each other tightly. There were many obstacles and hurdles they would have to overcome, but on that day, it was the start of something new, exciting, and even a little scary, but that is how life should be.
Authors note. This is edited to the best of my abilities. Please don't leave negative comments; if you don't like my story, move along. If you have advice, you are always welcome to advise.
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