The Cost of Silence

The Cost of Silence chapter 3

Chapter 3

Surprisingly, I slept through the whole night. I didn't have any nightmares or anything. Actually, I didn't even have any dreams, at all. When I woke up in the morning, it was only 11:30. Thank god for summer.

I got into the shower and stood there for a good 10 minutes, not doing anything other then thinking. I was thinking about everything that had happened to me, and to Stella, and to my entire family in the last couple years. All of us had always known that our family was broken (with the exception of maybe Stella), but only I knew all the reasons why. I was the one who knew everything, and therefore I was the one to blame.

I didn't want to think about it, about anything really, so I put all the effort I had into getting ready for the day. I tried to, anyways. There was only so much to do, since I didn't want to do my hair or put on makeup. I never did anymore. It seemed useless, and like a waste of time.

I cautiously walked downstairs into the kitchen, immensely glad when i saw that no one was in there. My mom was probably still asleep (and probably hungover), and my dad must have gone to work. Good. I made myself some cereal and sat down, reading the paper as I ate. I saw an article that was about a kid getting emancipated from his parents. It said that he was only 16, and was living on his own and everything. Hmm. I wish I could do that. At one point, I had actually thought about doing that, but i didn't tell anyone about it. I didn't tell anyone about anything.

Stella skipped into the room then, humming some song from sesame street or something.

"Good morning Amy," she said cheerfully, grabbing the box of cereal. I smiled at her and poked her in the stomach.

"What are you so happy about?" I asked, curious.

Through a mouthful of captain crunch, Stella said, "Things are going to get better!"

Whatever Stella was talking about, she seemed really excited. I, however, was still really confused.

"What do you mean 'things are going to get better'? What things?" I asked, leaning down to Stella's height.

She smiled and said, "Things with you and daddy. Daddy told me so. He said not to worry, because you guys are going to make up."

I just looked at Stella, processing what she said.

"Wait a second," I said slowly, "did dad tell you this earlier today?"

Stella looked at me like I was crazy. "No silly, daddy's been at work all morning!"

I set down the paper I was reading and cautiously asked, "Then when did he tell you?"

Stella rolled her eyes, as if this was something I should have known.

"Last night, he came into my room and told me." she said cheerfully. Then she grabbed another handful of cereal and walked out of the kitchen.

"Mother fucker," I said to myself, glad that Stella wasn't around to hear me. It was no secret that I hated my father, and as much as I wanted Stella to have a good, functional family, I wasn't okay with our father telling her lies like 'me and your sister are going to make up'. He knew that we weren't. Not after everything that's happened.

I didn't want Stella to know that her family was falling apart, though, so I decided to let her believe that things were actually going to get better. A little white lie never hurt anyone.

I threw my cereal bowl in the sink, not looking to see if I broke it or not. I didn't really care. I went back up to my room and climbed under the covers. It was too god damn early to be up.

At 1:00 I woke up again, feeling restless. I didn't want to get out of bed, but I couldn't sleep any longer. So instead, I grabbed a notebook and a pencil, and I started sketching things. One of my past therapists had suggested that I sketch whatever was going on in my head. That's what she told me, anyways, before she told my mom that she couldn't see me anymore, that I was hopeless, because I refused to talk. Or 'open up about my life' and 'feelings'. That's what they all said. And I doubted that Andrea would be any different.

I flipped to a random page in my notebook and started drawing. Most would expect a teenage girl to draw things like flowers and sunsets, but I drew lighting bolt after lighting bolt. Sometime they were hitting something, like a tree, or a house, or my father. What I sketched changed each time I opened a notebook. In the past, I had drawn trees (mainly burnt or dead ones), cemeteries, on one occasion I even sketched out an entire murder scene. I wasn't sure why. It was just what the pencil formed. And today, the pencil was forming lightning bolts.

At 3, my mom walked into my room. For some reason, she was dressed up, and looked, well, pretty.

"we're leaving now," she said, opening up my blinds, "so get ready. You're meeting with Andrea at 4, and I have stuff to do." right. Stuff. My mom thought I was stupid. Or maybe she just didn't care if I knew. Time to find out.

"who is he?" I asked, surprising myself. I never said things like this to my mom. In fact, I never really talked to my mom. Ever. My mom just looked at me and played dumb.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said coldly, "and neither do you. Get in the car." I shrugged and silently made my way outside and into the car. My mom refused to talk to me now, or even look at me. However, the whole drive to Andrea's, she was fixing her makeup, and making sure she look good.

I knew what was up.

"the guy you're seeing," I said as we pulled into the parking lot, "who is he." my mom glared at me. Taking a risk, I continued. "does he know your married? Or that you have kids? I bet he doesn't. I bet you told him you were young, single, all the right things." that did it.

My mom reached over me and opened the door. "get out of my car, now." she practically growled, "and don't you dare talk to me like that again. Ever." not fazed, I got out and gently closed the door. As my mom drove away, I don't think she realized that I probably wasn't going to speak to her at all, again. I just didn't see the point.

I knew that my mom was cheating on my dad. I had known for years. It started shortly after she started drinking. Honesty, I didn't really blame her. But my dad knew. He had to know. I was 99% sure that he did the things he did, because he knew.

As I walked into the cozy waiting room, I couldn't stop thinking one thing: my family was really fucked up. My mom cheated on my dad, my dad did horrible things, my little sister was so innocent and had no idea what was going on, and me? I had a secret. No one knew about it. Actually, that wasn't true. One other person knew. They were part of it. Part of my 'big secret'. But I couldn't tell anyone about it. That was why I didn't talk much. It might all slip out, and I couldn't have that happen. That was also why I could talk freely to Stella. I would never tell her. It would never 'slip out' around her. I could't have her know, of all people, she couldn't know.

Authors note:

Sooooo, what do you guys think?? Is it getting more exciting? Is it good? Bad? Wellll?(:

I think I'm on a roll here. I have the next few chapters all planned out in my head! Yay! :D

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