Scars Beneath Silence

Chapter 2

The sun was already high in the sky by the time we finished breakfast, and the kitchen was starting to empty out. Sarah and I were left at the table, sipping the last of our milk and picking at crumbs. Mother was still bustling around, putting away dishes and humming cheerfully to herself.

"So, Amanda," Sarah said, breaking the silence, "have you heard about the choir?"

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Yeah, I heard. Mother's really excited about it."

Sarah nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up. "She says it's going to be a great way for us to contribute to the church. I think it'll be really nice."

I wasn't so sure. "I don't know," I said hesitantly. "Singing in front of everyone? It sounds kind of intimidating."

Sarah gave me a knowing look. "Come on, Amanda. It's not that bad. It's just singing. Besides, Mother's really looking forward to it. We wouldn't want to let her down, would we?"

I glanced over at Mother, who was still busy in the kitchen, and sighed again. "I guess. But what if I'm terrible? I don't want to embarrass myself."

Sarah shook her head, her expression firm but kind. "It doesn't matter if you're the best singer or not. Mother says it's about being part of the community, about showing our commitment. We're all in this together."

I felt a twinge of frustration. Sarah had always been the one to push us toward whatever Mother wanted, and it was hard to argue with her when she was so determined. "I suppose," I said reluctantly. "But I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

Sarah's expression softened, and she reached out to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Look, Amanda. I know it's not exactly what you had in mind, but it's important. And it'll be good for us. Just think of it as another way to be involved, to be part of something bigger."

I didn't really have much of a choice. Sarah had a way of making things seem inevitable, and Mother's expectations always loomed large. I nodded, though my heart wasn't entirely in it. "Okay, okay. I'll do it."

Sarah smiled, relief evident in her face. "Great! I knew you'd come around. We'll have to practice a lot, but it'll be fine. And who knows? It might even be fun."

As I stood up from the table, I felt a pang of reluctance. It wasn't that I didn't want to support Mother or be part of the church community. I just wished there was a way to do it without feeling so out of my depth. But with Sarah's insistence and Mother's excitement, it seemed like there was no other option.

Sarah and I walked to church together, the familiar path feeling even more routine than usual. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. The anticipation of the choir practice hung in the air, a mix of excitement and apprehension that I could feel even though I tried to ignore it.

As we approached the church, I could see the other families arriving, their voices mingling with the sounds of laughter and chatter. The church had a different feel in the late afternoon—less solemn, more casual, though still filled with that ever-present sense of purpose.

Inside, the atmosphere was bustling. People were gathering in the main hall, and I could see a few of the older children already talking in small groups. I spotted Mother near the front, chatting with some of the other women from the congregation, her excitement barely contained. Sarah and I made our way to a side area where the choir practice was supposed to be held.

The room was set up with rows of chairs, and sheet music was scattered across stands. I could see a few people already sitting and looking over their music, their voices low as they chatted. It wasn't long before a girl with a nervous smile caught my attention. She was sitting alone, fiddling with a corner of her dress and glancing around with a hesitant look.