The Beauty of Silence

A short story I wrote for a contest (though its kind of long). Hope you enjoy =]

The Beauty of Silence

            How do you get a girl to speak?

            I guess the obvious answer would be to smile, walk up to her and start shooting questions. Any sane person would tell you it’s easy. Any parent would say to their son that girls aren’t really from Venus nor did they contain cooties. But, even at sixteen, I learned Silence wasn’t like that.

            And it wasn’t that Silence didn’t want to talk, but the fact that she couldn’t. She was mute, I later learned, and couldn’t utter a single word, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to know who she was. Just like any other person she had secrets to unlock because even a person who can’t speak has a story to tell.

 ~*~~*~

 The sound of my bag strap clicking reminded me of how fast my life had ended. One minute I’m with my best friend Colin, living it up in New York City and the next I’m half way across the country with about three bags filled with crap and nothing to do.

I ignored the heat that overwhelmed me as I stood outside the large Victorian like house. It was sticky and overbearing. The air didn’t help either. It felt like it was building pressure, as if it could weigh me down until I hit the ground.

I sighed, turning. “Bye Mom.”

Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I didn't blame her. What did you say to your kid when you shipped them off to the middle of nowhere with a grandmother they never met, or even knew existed? There was little to say that didn't involve, “You’re their headache now” or “I give up on you.”

“Okay.” Mom’s violet eyes were big and glass like all of a sudden. I knew that look. I was used to it by now. Mom was always the kind of person who wore her emotions on her sleeve, making everything a big deal.

She shook her head, as if she could brush off thoughts of regret. “I’ll be back in six weeks.” Then she went silent again. No, goodbye Jonah, or I'll miss you. Not even a freaking I’m sorry. Just goes to show how much people don’t give a shit about you. You never know until you’re dumped on some other relative.

There was a moment she looked sorry, truly sorry for leaving me here with no one I knew. I ignored the look, lugging my bags up the stairs to the porch.

I didn’t bother waiting for my grandmother to appear and invite me in. I just walked inside.

“Hello?”

The place was even worse inside than out. It reminded me of those castles from princess movies Katy made me watch with her when she was little, only this seemed like a haunted mansion.

The whole house was dark, not a single light on. Everything looked like it belonged to a horror film; the sight of cobwebs everywhere, the white sheets draped over furniture, and the entire house, plunged in darkness. I considered leaving the front door open just so I could see my surroundings.

I cursed when Mom started the ignition, startled, my bag getting caught in the rug’s edge. I rolled it over, causing more dust particles to dance around.

“Anyone here?” I called again, feeling like moron for speaking to no one. “The door was open,” I pointed out. “So I just came in.”

No response sounded as I continued dragging along my bags, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were things I hadn’t noticed, like the curling wallpaper and tiny dust bunnies gathering along the floor.