Mute || ✔️

Chapter 5- Tara and Christian

Chapter 5: Tara and Christian

*Tara*                             

            Why did I agree to go with Christian when he registered for his school? I could’ve been snuggled into my blankets sleeping soundly right now. But no, I was sitting at the kitchen table-practically falling asleep in my bowl of cereal that Christian had made me.  Then there was said person, who was currently smirking at me over the table. I glared back at him the best I could. Needless to say, I wasn’t much of a morning person.

            An hour later, I stood in front of my suitcase looking through it-for my jacket. Christian had said earlier (in between my glaring) that I would need one, because it was bit chilly outside. I frowned when I found it. It was a duller purple than I remembered and over the years, it had gotten horribly thin, worn out, and a bit snug, but it was the only one I had.

            "Tara?" Christian knocked on the door before walking in, "Did you find it yet?"

Nodding, I held up the article of clothing as my evidence.  He frowned at it. The same way I had done when I had first found it.

"That won't keep you warm," he told me, "Do you have any other jacket?"

Shaking my head, I set back it back down. Then I shrugged-my way of asking what I should do now. But he wasn't looking at me anymore. He was now searching through his own closet of jackets. Then he pulled out a plain black one.

            Christian turned to me, extending the plain black jacket in his hand while doing so.

"Here," he said, "This’ll be a bit big on you. But it'll work for now.”

            'A bit big' was an big understatement. The jacket swallowed my thin frame and made me look and feel even smaller than I already was. My hands were covered to the point Christian had to help me zip it up. Then he folded the sleeves back so my hands were visible.

"There," he said with a slight smile, "That's better..."

A horn outside beeped twice.

"That'll be Sammy's mom," Christian said as he turned towards the door. But I gripped the sleeve of his own jacket, before he could walk away.

            "What is it?" He looked back at me. I extended my hand, hoping he'd get what I wanted. He did. Christian's grip on my hand was gentle, but firm and tight enough to make me feel safe.

"Don't worry Training Bra. These are really great people. I wouldn’t be taking you to them if they weren’t.” He told me. My head bobbed up and down. He smiled his half smile, squeezing my hand, and then he led me out of the room; out of the house and to a grey minivan. The cold morning air bit at us. Now I knew why Christian had said my jacket wouldn’t keep me warm. It never really did anyway, but that’s the kind of jacket Aunt Ruby had said I deserved.

            The door opened before Christian had a chance to get a grip on the handle. A boy with dark skin, lanky legs, and brown eyes stared back at us with a smile.

“Hey Mate,” The boy greeted while I hid behind Christian. I heard Christian respond back, but to me, the words were just blurs. Feeling that his body had begun to move, I brought my head out of Christian’s shoulder. Then his shadow was gone completely, as he climbed in beside the boy. Yet he did not drop my hand. Instead, my best friend from my childhood pulled me along after him. Again, I glared my weak glare at him. He chuckled and put my seatbelt around my frame. But he still did not let go of my hand as he leaned over me and shut the door…

 After a minute or so, the car lurched forward. My instincts kicking in, I scrambled to grip Christian’s arm in a vice grip; my head was buried in his neck. Christian sighed; he squeezed my hand, before he rubbed his thumb soothingly over my knuckles. Without realizing it, I began to nuzzle my face into his warm neck. Soon after I fell asleep... In my dream like state-I didn't see the future... No I saw a memory of the past.

I saw my five year old self by a six year old Christian. We were eating lunch that Drew had made for us.

***

"Hey Christian, guess what?" I asked after I had finished the last bite of my sandwich.  He looked at me, "What?"

"I can fly," I announced simply. Looking skeptic, my best friend crossed his arms. "No you can't."

"Yes I can!" I argued back.

“Nuh uh!”

“Huh uh,”

"Prove it then!" I thought for a moment.

"Find me a pair of wings and I will." I said defiantly. He stood up, "Fine,"

He ended up bringing me my old fairy wings from my Halloween costume from the year before.

***

            I don't remember much after I put the wings on, and climbed up one of the many trees in my backward. But I do remember that awful burn in my arm. Like it was on fire. Then afterwards, my mother scolding me. More importantly though, I remember Christian holding my hand on the way to the hospital as I cried. He never let go-even during the ex-rays and the doctor's visit.

*Christian*

            A silence filled the car while Tara slept, but then Sammy broke it, "So that's her?"

I nodded, "This is her."

"She seems..." He thought for a moment and finally came up with, "Fragile."

“Sammy, fragile doesn’t even began describe her.” I said with a sigh.

“How would you describe her then?” He asked. Without realizing it, my eyes fell to her face that was being hidden by my neck. Readjusting her seat belt and body, I laid her gently across my lap. Then I slowly pulled my hand away from hers. As soon as it was gone, her face suddenly contorted into a mask of pain and she made a small, feeble sound. My eyes widened. She had just whimpered. Sure, she wasn’t awake and probably wasn’t aware she was doing it, but I still found myself wondering how often this happened. It was as if she knew I wasn’t there anymore. After another sigh had left my mouth, I began to tenderly stroke her hair.

The pain immediately left her face. I had my answer for Sammy. This wasn’t the girl I had grown up with. This wasn’t my best friend. The girl I knew was the most optimistic person in the world. The girl I knew was practically fearless. Her eyes would light up at the littlest thing. Her smile was so bright and her laugh was full of life.

The girl that rested in my lap was a shell of the girl I grew up with. Her eyes lit up no longer. It was like no one was home. Her smile was no longer bright, but tentive and rare. There wasn’t any more laughter and the optimist I knew was replaced with a pessimist. The girl that rested in my lap was broken puzzle that needed to be put back together. Another wave of protectiveness washed over my body as I stared down the broken girl. If she was a broken puzzle, I had a feeling I’d be the one to put her back together.

“Broken,” I finally said, “Definitely broken.”