Mute

Chapter 1

"Allison." The soft cool voice of my name cuts the deep silence of my cold room. I turn to it and find a maid that I know by Callie standing in between the doorway.

I turned back abruptly and stared back at the window.

"What is it?"

"Your parents are calling for you downstairs. The guest has arrived."

As she is saying this, the car that had pulled up only a few moments ago had begun movement. The driver opened the door and a tall figure emerges and stand tall and firm.

He must be the groom. The thought of it made my heart ache.

The driver shut the car door and the other man walks toward the house where he is welcomed in.

I could feel my heart drop to the bit of my stomach and I gulp loudly.

I open my mouth to speak, but even if I wanted to nothing would come out. I nodded and followed her out the door, while each step weighed down on me heavily.

The closer I got I could hear the sounds of my parent's laughter.

What great actors they could have been. Playing the perfect role of loving parents when they needed to be. But acting like I'm a ghost, when it mattered, or when it mattered to me.

I walked down the stairs feeling every bit more terrified as I grew closer. My hand trembled harshly. I grab onto it tightly and pulled it close to my chest.

Slowly I made my way to the sitting room.

"Aw, there she is." My father's voice perked on.

He walked toward me and placed his hands on my shoulder. He led me forward, but not before he squeezed down on it harshly, seemingly displeased by my late arrival.

I scurried forward but did not dare to look up. Nonetheless, I felt the man's cold stares roam my body.

"This is my daughter, Allison." My father introduces.

"Isn't she beautiful," my mother inclined. I couldn't help but look up to my mother's words.

'Beautiful,' Mother must be biting on the inside of her cheek, after say such words. She has never called me beautiful.

The corner of her lips scowl slightly seemingly  angry and worried by the look of bewilderment that must have been plastered across my face. I look back down scared of currying any more of her wrath that she might take out when the guest left.

But how I could not be shocked. The words she curses at me don't even come close to the word beauty. In fact, she's thrown constant words at me like wretch, pitiful, useless, ugly, or trash.

Although it was a total act, that was the nicest thing she'd ever said about me. But then again I shouldn't take it too seriously, they were practically serving on top of silvry er blatter.

Giving him false pretenses of a proper lady with elegance to match.

Every word my parents said was picked carefully and they looked like they were walking around egg shells around him. Which was surprising coming from my father who always acted proudly.

This man must be someone important, in a position higher then my fatherm

The man walked forward and I stood frozen in place.

I knew the polite thing to do was to look up and exchange some sort of greeting. But I didn't have the courage to look up. And quite frankly all my strength had left me long ago. It took everything I had to just get me down the stairs. And now I was seconds away from tumbling to the ground.