Save Me

Silence

Jay

Our house was so quiet you could hear a pen drop. It had been a week since her visit with the therapist and her next appointment in tomorrow. She hadn't uttered a  word from her mouth since her first visit and it seems as if she has no intention to. Blue has followed suit and doesn't have much to say either.

It's like when Beyoncé isn't happy, our home isn't truly happy. How can we be? We know she's hurting and it hurts us too. I wonder if she even notices that she's hurting us along with herself. I can only imagine how Solo is handling herself. They used to talk on the phone almost everyday, that's what kept the both of them going on the right path.

The only good thing is that Beyoncé is eating, it's a little more than usual but still not enough for a grown woman. Sometimes I wonder how she keeps all that ass and hips she has. It must just be in her genes or something.

"Beyoncé," I called out to her.

She was sitting on the couch across from me reading a book and sipping a piping hot cup of coffee. She closed her book slowly and put down her coffee cup. She looked at me and raised her eyebrow, signaling for me to say whatever I need to say.

"We miss you,"

She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Still didn't say anything.

"Beyoncé, remember you told me so long ago that you would stop running from me, you promised me that and that's basically what you're doing to me,"

I noticed her eyes getting watery and her nose turning red. Oh lord this isn't what I want. I hate to see her cry. I went over there to her and kissed her gently on the lips and surprisingly she kissed back. I noticed trying to get her to talk would be futile so I'm going to give her some space.

She retreated to her room where I knew she would be sleeping. That's really all she does lately is sleep. This whole situation is starting to piss me off. I just wanted to help her but she chooses to retreat into this shell and won't let anyone in. Not even her own child.

I'm starting to just want to give up but I love her too much to leave that easily. I went back to Blue's room to see her coloring in her huge coloring book. She was coloring a flower, it looked like an orchid.

"Hey Blue," I said kissing her on the forehead.

"Hey daddy," she said still focusing on her coloring.

"Can I help you?" I asked her.

"Sure dad, gwab a crayon,"

A pale purple crayon was laying close to me on the floor so I grabbed it and helped her color. It took about 30 minutes but we finally finished. She smiled and hugged me.

"Daddy I need your help with something,"

"What's up Blue?" I asked and she gave me an evil little grin.

I laughed and watched as she pulled out this big canvas paper. On it was a drawing/sketch of a bee with a crown on it.

"Did you draw this Blue?" I asked

"Yes," she simply stated.

It shocked me, my little six year old drew like a professional. It was amazing.

"Is this for mommy?" I asked her.

"Yes, I drew it just for her because everyone calls her queen bey,"

I smiled at my beautiful daughter, noticing how talented she truly is.

"I think if you show mommy this it would make her very very happy," I said.

"Would she actually talk to me?" she asked with a sad face.

"Yes, I'm more than positive that she would,"

Blue grabbed her drawing and ran to our bedroom. Beyoncé was on the bed, not sleep but just laying there. Her eyes were wet, I could tell she had just finished crying.

"Mommy," Blue said, barely above a whisper.

She held up her drawing and Beyoncé actually smiled. She lifted her body up and kissed blue on the forehead.

"This is beautiful baby,"

Wow, she finally talked. Blue got her to talk. Hearing her voice was like music to my ears. I never noticed how much I truly loved hearing her thick southern accent until I could no longer hear it anymore.

"Baby, you talked," I said.

Beyoncé

I had finally spoken to my family. Blue's drawing was just so beautiful and I was shocked my little six year old could draw that well. I kissed her on her cheek and told her to go to her room and play. I hung up the drawing above my vanity before turning to Jay.

He was staring at me with a smile on his face. I started to feel guilty for not talking to them, and running away but that is the only way I know how to deal with my issues. I needed time to be to myself and think. What my therapist has been asking is on my mind heavily. I still don't know the true answer to it.

Why do I still live by my parents' rule?

"Baby, talk to me," Jay yet again pleaded to me.

"I love you," is all that I could really say.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N

Please bare with me. I have no more ideas for this book and if you have any please comment.