The Cry of Silence

2 - Beach

TW: coarse language, alcohol, scars, mentions of SH, abuse

                                - M A E V E -

"God, I hate school," Leah started moaning to me.

I looked at her in amusement.

"Awh does someone find it too hard?" I fake pout at her before smirking.

She glared at me in response.

"I'm fucking with you Lee, don't worry. What do you need help with?" I smile gratefully as Julie put our ice creams down in front of us.

Strawberry for Leah and cookie dough for me.

"Well I can't help that you are a genius and already know all of this stuff," she huffed back at me, digging her spoon into her already melting ice cream.

I smirked and we fell into silence, savouring the taste of our ice cream and tired from the heat.

"Tell me more about Kai, the guy who is coming tomorrow," I suddenly ask.

Leah narrows her eyes and smiles slightly, staring at me.

"Why are you so interested, Maeve?" She asked back.

"I'm curious because you were quite excited this morning, that's all." My reply giving her no satisfaction.

"Alright um, he is popular and labelled as the 'bad boy' which fits him. He has two close friends, Liam and Miles and from what I know, they have been friends since kindergarten."

I nod along while she tells me this, taking in all of the information. Both of us had finished our ice creams by this time.

"Hey we should walk on the beach," I say to Leah.

She nodded and we quickly got up and walked down to the sand. The temperature had dropped only a few degrees but you could feel the difference. You could go outside without being scared to melt on the sidewalk.

The sand was soft between our toes and we walked with the sound of the waves crashing in our ears. Australia was almost the opposite from back in the UK. It was nearly always raining and overcast in London but here in Sydney the summers were hot. Oh gosh they are so hot. The winters are much nicer.

People don't judge me for wearing long clothes and it reminds me a bit of being back in London. Dad moved us to Australia just after the accident, about a year ago. He said that London reminded him too much of Mum and Serenity. I didn't want to move but it wasn't as if I had any friends, I had pushed them all away when Mum died then Serenity.

Moving to Australia was good in a way. It meant I could have a fresh start, meet people on a clean slate. People who didn't know about her Mum and Serenity.

The sun was soon setting and I dreaded going home to face Dad. My phone had been buzzing all afternoon from him drunk calling and texting me, asking why I wasn't home. Eventually I had to step away and call him.

"Where the fuck are you, you piece of shit?" he slurred his words, an indication for how drunk he was.

"I'm out with a friend," I kept my answers short to try and not make him angrier than he was.

"Well get your ass home now, someone needs to cook dinner." His words were slurring dangerously and I prayed he had drunk enough to be passed out by the time I was home.

I ended the call quickly and took a shaky breath in. I know I should be used to it now but he was terrifying when he was drunk. Unpredictable. Abusive. Hostile. The list goes on.

I turn back to Leah and give her a smile.

"You good? You look like you're about to cry," She said, her face worried.

"Mhm, I'm fine" I lie. "Just Dad checking where I was." The lie came easy to me.

"Oh, do you need to go?" Leah asked.

"NO, I mean no, everything's fine," I smile to try and convince her.

"Now come on I wanna walk in the water." I do everything to delay going home.

The water was cold and inviting on our feet. The waves crashing around our ankles. I look out at the water and long for the feel of me gliding through it. It had been years since I had swum.

I had been on my schools' swim team back in London and was really good at it. I stopped after Mum died and the scars started appearing.

I was embarrassed and thought people would judge or talk about me if they saw them. No one had ever seen my scars. At the start they were mostly from myself.

Then as Dad got worse he started contributing. Wounds that I had to patch up myself with the limited first aid knowledge I had. A few times I had to give myself stitches because Dad had thrown a bottle at me and it had smashed.