Mute || ✔️

Prologue-Tara

Dedicated to the person who made the cover for my story, loopsybop

Prologue-Tara

            I huffed silently looking at my reflection in the mirror. Then I raised my hand and began to trace the frail burn that ran down the side length of my face. Even though the burn was years old, I still shivered involuntarily at my warm fingertips touching it.

Stop it. That voice in the back of my head, scolded. You should be grateful! You made it out with nothing, but a scar and you’re sitting here feeling bad for yourself? While your parents are dead? You’re pathetic!

            I shook my head. Every day these thoughts would penetrate my mind and consume me. Every day, I would stare into the mirror; remembering that night.

          Every day, I would remember how the huge neon orange flames seemed to swallow my house. The inky black smoke that filled my lungs, and made my body shake when I coughed violently. My mother screaming, “Get my baby out of here first!”

       Again, I shook my head. But it was too late. I was already too far gone in my thoughts to stop them from coming. I can still remember how that one streak of fiery hotness that got angry at me. And because it was angry, it lashed out at me, leaving me forever scared…

            “Tara,” Aunt Hannah’s voice pulled me out of my horrific flashback, “Could you come down here for a moment?”

With one last glance at my face, I grabbed my notepad and went to see wanted.

            My Aunt and Uncle were whispering when I walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. Lightly, I rapped against the wooden beam of the kitchen opening to let them know I was there.

            Uncle Neil’s head snapped up to where I stood.  Our eyes locked with each other’s. His, seemed…apologetic? This couldn’t be good. Now with a slight tremble to my body, I slowly made my way to the table…

            As I sat down in the chair beside her, I noticed Aunt Hannah couldn’t look at me. Sighing, I began to write.

“What’s going on? “

After they shared a glance, my uncle spoke quietly. “A few days ago, someone found a copy of your mother’s will and sent it to us. It has named a guardian for you…”

            Suddenly, my heart rate sped up while my palms had begun to sweat. By now my hands were shaking, which made my hand writing messy.

“Who is it?”  I’m afraid of the question, but I have to ask. Uncle Neil heaved a sigh. “Trisha Reed.”

“But Aunt Trisha died when I year before the accident happened. This wouldn't change anything.”  But even as I wrote this, I knew this wasn't the case. They wouldn't have been telling me this if it didn't change something.

"She is. But her sons aren't." My uncle sighed again. Now I was confused. What did this mean? My puzzlement must have been clear; because Aunt Hannah, who hadn’t said a thing throughout the entire conversation, suddenly spoke. “We’ve been in contact with Trisha’s oldest and have explained the situation and he has discussed it with his wife. And they have said, they would love to have you come live with them and Trisha’s youngest.”

Oh. That was it means… I thought dejectedly. I’m being shipped off again, only this time it’s not to another family member.

But that voice in the back of head was back…Did you really think they'd be any different from your mother's side? No one wants to deal with you and your problems. And the next family won't be any different. Face it you’re too much of a lost cause to deal with.

            "Tara?" My aunt's voice brought me back out of my thoughts. I looked at her; she was almost in tears. "Are you okay with this?"

Even though I wasn't, I nodded my head. It wouldn't help if she and my uncle saw my pain. I learned that a long time ago. I tried to keep my face free of emotions as I wrote my next question, “When am I moving?”

            “Drew said, that if it’s alright with you he, his wife, and his brother will come and get you this weekend.” Explained Uncle Neil. I nodded, glancing down at the table. Then I looked back up at him and my aunt.

“May I go now? I've got some things to do before they come and get me.”

            After Uncle Neil nodded his head, I stood up with my notepad. As I walked away from the kitchen table, I could feel their eyes on my back. So I tried really hard not to turn back around. Because I knew that if I did, I would begin to cry. I wouldn’t let them see me cry. When I got to my room, however… Now that was different story…