Some Quiet Place by [email protected]

Author:[email protected]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2013-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

All the lights in the house are on when I get home. The farm is very, very quiet. Even the cows in the barn are subdued. I hop down from my truck, listening to the familiar sound of gravel under my tennis shoes. The screen door groans on its hinges, a noise I’ve listened to all my life, every time I enter this house.

The brightness of the kitchen hits me. It’s not so friendly a place at one a.m. I stay in the entryway for just a moment, straining to hear anything, but it’s silent. Both of them heard my truck pull in; they heard the screen door. They know I’m in here. They’re waiting.

I step into their line of sight. Tim and Sarah look at me from where they stand behind the counter. Sarah is trying not to wring her hands nervously; she keeps pulling them apart and folding them again.

Tim, of course, is the first to speak. His forehead gleams. “Where have you been?” His voice is low and controlled, and the bruises Fear gave him have become simmering hues of blue and yellow. For the first time in a long time, he’s not drunk. Sobriety seems even worse.

I take off my shoes so I don’t dirty Sarah’s clean floor, moving slowly, as if he’s a predator and I’m prey. I look at that floor as I answer, “I went to Sophia Richardson’s birthday party.” I’d left after our Friday family night supper, of course, and made sure to do my chores. Usually after I shut myself up in my room, no one bothers me. But tonight, apparently …

“The school called today.” Ah. I’d forgotten about skipping classes the day Maggie died.

“They told us you never showed up on Wednesday,” Tim adds tightly. When I don’t respond, he clenches his beefy fists. “Well?” When I still don’t respond, Tim steps away from the counter, closer to me.

Move, sense whispers.

Following some strange instinct, I hold my ground, lifting my chin in what could be perceived as defiance.

The faint scent of sweat and soil drifts to my nose. I look up at Tim. He seems taller than normal. He hasn’t shaved in a while; scruff dots his chin and jaw. “You’re going to tell me where you went,” he orders. Again he waits for me to speak. Sarah’s hands tremble as she reaches up to push her hair away from her face. She looks like she’s focusing hard on thinking nothing, feeling nothing, being nothing. She’s trying to be me.

And failing miserably.

“H-honey, don’t you think—” she starts.

“Shut up.” He’s so cold, so empty. I should be seeing Anger, yet there are no Emotions present. Are they still avoiding whatever Fear sensed at Sophia’s party?

At my continued silence Tim leaves Sarah’s side to tower over me. “Elizabeth.” It’s a warning. There’s a vein jutting out of his forehead that always precedes pain. But for some reason, I keep ignoring those insisting urges to run, fight! and just stand there, silent. I don’t answer his questions, and oddly enough, I don’t plan to.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.