Broken Silence

Chapter 8: The Garden

The garden was incredible. Even though it was the beginning of winter, the small, colorful flowers on the bushes were shockingly bright. The grass was perfectly cut. A stone path divided into 2 ways; one led to a small pool and the other one led to a gazebo. And in the far distance I could see a forest, in other words the garden led to a forest too? Interesting.

"You like it?" She repeated. I nodded. She smiled. "Bill and I worked on it very hard." I looked at her in confusion. "Bill is my husband." She said grabbing my elbow and leading me to a small patch of flowers. "Aren't they pretty?"

I nodded, taking in the small lilac flowers. I lightly touched them. They were soft and much smaller than the rest, so much that they were almost hidden by the leaves that they made. But nonetheless, they were charming little flowers. They reminded me of some my mother had when she—I felt an odd twist in my chest as I remembered my mother's garden. She had had these little flowers too.

I felt Abigail look at me and then she said, "This color looks good with your skin." I took my gaze off the small flowers and looked at her. "Darling, your skin color is..." She paused as if trying to find the right word. "Olive-toned? I think they call it olive skin. And this color would look amazing on you. My daughter has your same skin color, so I know what I'm talking about. I remember she wore it for her prom. She looked beautiful, so much like me. But she got her skin, and her eyes, from her father's side, I was always too pale."

She gave a small laugh and began to pull me to the small gazebo. "You know but, if my mother had let me, I would've probably become a fashion Designer or something. I've always had a knack for making clothes and color combinations." She gave me a little bump on my side. "But, I wouldn't change what I did. If I had tried I probably wouldn't have met Bill." This woman was giving me her life story. But, oddly, I didn't mind it. I actually found myself wanting to know more. How ... funny.

"I once told Bill how I loved gardening, and since then he always talked about making a garden that I could plant my flowers in." She said smiling. "Sadly, he didn't see it get finished." She said sitting down. I sat down slowly. I recognized the look in her eyes when she said this. It was the same look I had on my face every day after my parents were killed.

"He died 3 years ago. He went to sleep and ... never woke up. Poor Gabriel, he was the one who found him. He couldn't sleep for 6 months without waking up crying. They were very close. I tried to make him feel better, but ... how could I? When I couldn't accept the fact that he was gone...Imagine, 50 years of marriage, I go to sleep with him and the next day..." she explained, but didn't continue the sentence. It wasn't like she needed to because, I understood. I understood perfectly.

There was an eerie, uncomfortable silence for a second.

"Oh, but enough about me, tell me about yourself sweetie." She said patting my hand. I tucked them on my lap when she let them go, I'd rather her talk more about her marriage or something. "Why is Gabriel so fixed about not taking you to your home? I think he does know this is considered kidnapping." She said laughing. I stared at her for a second and looked down at my folded hands.

'I'd rather be kidnapped than be in that horrid house for another--' I began to think, but Abigail's voice interrupted me.

"Sweetie, can you talk?" She asked. Oh no. I waited, I almost prayed, for one of the boys to come and interrupt the awkward conversation. But it was in vain, for not one of the boys came out. I stared at the floor. She chuckled.

"You can. But you don't." I slightly nodded. Stop it.

"Something happened." It was not a question, but a statement. I slightly nodded again. Stop it!