silent

6

• LORENZO •

"Dad." Elijah says, walking into my study.

"Hm?" I mumble, signing my name on a dotted line. He's silent for a moment, and so I look up, a crease forming between my brows. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think Amalia plans on coming out of her room a lot." He tells me.

"What do you mean?" I question.

"She bought a.. kettle. And a blender. And a mini fridge, I think." He explains.

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I asked her, and she said, well, wrote that it's her money and she can do what she wants with it. Then she pointed to the door, and I took that as my cue to leave."

I'm standing immediately and walking up the stairs. I knock on Amalia's door once, and she opens it quickly.

I peer behind her. On her desk is a kettle plugged into a wall, next to a blender and a white mini fridge, open and already half stocked with food. I also notice other changes to her room, like the fairy lights lining the wall above her bed and edge of her desk. There are more blankets and pillows on her bed, too, and there's still a half full bag on the floor.

I smile at her. "Hi, baby." I survey the room again. "You got a lot of new things." I observe.

She nods.

"You know we have a blender downstairs? And a kettle. And a fridge." I say, lips turning up a little bit at the corners.

She grabs a notepad and pen off her bed and writes something down quickly—almost angrily—before ripping the page out, scrunching it up and throwing it at me before shutting the door loudly. A second later, I hear the click of her lock.

I sigh quietly as I reach down to unroll the note.

THESE ARE MY THINGS. I DON'T WANT
YOURS. I DON'T WANT TO BE HARASSED
WHEN ALL I WANT IS MORE WATER, OR
BE CALLED NAMES BY PEOPLE WHO DO
NOT EVEN KNOW ME WHEN ALL I'M TRYING TO DO IS EAT DINNER!!

I WILL MAKE MY OWN FOOD FROM
NOW ON. PLEASE DO NOT COME TO MY
ROOM UNLESS IT'S IMPORTANT.

I'm going to kill Xander and Mason. And Cole—he probably had something to do with this. He always does.

• AMALIA •

I pour the kettle water into my pot noodles and sit down at my desk, setting my fork and bottle of water next to me, arranging a neat set up of food. I try to turn YouTube on on my phone, but it keeps glitching. So I sit in silence as I eat my dinner.

     Alone.

     Like it always has been; like it always should be.

•

I can hear shouting. My father, and—Xander, I think, are arguing. About me, judging by the amount of times my name has been yelled across the house.

I wrap my arms around my knees and tuck them close to me, shutting my eyes as I could the seconds that pass, the breaths I take. Anything to distract me from the loud noises.

I look up from my duvet only when a soft knock sounds on my door.

"Amalia?"

I don't go to answer it.

     "Unlock the door for me, angel." Elijah says.

     I shake my head—as though he can see me. He knocks again. "Amalia, I wanna talk to you."

     I don't respond.

     I hear him sigh. "Grayson and I are gonna watch a movie in the living room later. Do you wanna join us?"

     I'm assuming that my silence is answer enough; a few seconds pass before he yells through the door, and above the shouting: "if you decide that you want to, let me know, yeah?"

     He stays there for a few more seconds before I hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, overpowered by the shouts, still coming from Xander and my father. And some from Cole.

     I feel terrible—I've caused all this.

     If I listen hard enough, I can hear what they're yelling.

     "Everything was fine before she got here." Cole says.

"So that's it, you're jealous of her? Grow up, Cole." I hear Elijah say, as he makes his way back downstairs.

"Right, because he'd be jealous of some little kid who can't talk." Xander says.

And then there's a loud bang, followed by shouts and more loud noises. I cover my ears, but the sounds penetrate.

"Elijah!" My father shouts.

"She isn't some little kid, you cunt, she's our sister." I hear Elijah yell.

     "And she can hear you arguing, you know. She's not going to come out of her room if she thinks all anyone is going to do is shout at each other." Grayson adds.

     Suddenly the yelling stops, and I can't hear any more of their conversation.

     I sigh quietly, turn on my TV and curl up in my blankets. I only half listen to what's playing as I stare at the light coloured wall, my eyes going in and out of focus.

•

I'm writing more in my flower journal when my—now unlocked—door opens, and the last person I expected to see for a while walks in.

     Xander.

     He walks over to me, and I cower under his gaze as he sets a plate of food down in front of me. He looks at the set up I've made of my food; the rows of pot noodles on top of my mini fridge. "There's dinner. You can't live on noodles."

     And then he leaves, shutting the door gently behind him.

     I dig into the food immediately, savouring the taste and the warmth. I pull my phone off of my nightstand and send a message to my dad.

     ME: thanks for the food.

     A few seconds pass before his reply comes through.

     Dad: Xander made that for you, baby.

     I stare at my screen for a long moment before setting my phone face down and eating the rest of my food, deeming it better than one of my pot noodles.