I could hear the crickets chirping outside. I lay relatively quite on my bed, the only sound from me was the sound of my soft breathing. “Miranda!” my father called from the living room. I had forgotten to lock my bedroom door. How stupid of me… “Miranda!” he called again, I could hear his footsteps as he climbed the stairs. I rolled over, so my back was to the door, maybe if I pretend I’m a sleep… I hear the doorknob turn and my bedroom door creak open. The light from the hall flooded into my dark room, placing shadows on the walls. “Miranda, don’t leave your bedroom window open!” he walked over to my window and slammed it shut. I couldn’t hear the crickets anymore.
I’m terrified of what he has become. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned over me. It smelled of strong vinegar and made my nose itch. When’s mommy getting home? I couldn’t help but think as his sweaty fingers brushed against my cheek. I had to restrain myself from shivering, I’m asleep… I kept repeating to myself as I squeeze my eyes shut. He slowly lowers himself onto my bed, “Miranda?” I knew he didn’t expect me to answer him. I have never spoken to anyone in my life, not even baby nonsense when I was smaller. I’m a mute.
“My baby girl…” He sobs, bringing both hands to his face as he cries, as if I was no longer there with him, just a hollow body. Suddenly both his hands are on me as my father shakes my shoulders violently. My eyes are open wide and I stare at him in horror. “Talk to me! Talk to daddy!” his grip on me tightens and it becomes painful.
Tears welled up in my eyes, threating to spill over. “Damn it! Why don’t you talk? You’re useless and pathetic! Maybe one day we’ll abandon you. Do you want that? Do you really want that Miranda? You better tell me that you don’t want it!” he threatens. When I say nothing his grip on me softens and he sniffs. “I hate you; you’re not what I wanted when Joy said she was pregnant.” I knew from experience that this was a good time to leave; he would only get more violent and angry, but for some reason I stay and listen to his ugly words.
“What did you do to her?!” he looks up, starring me dead in the eyes. “What did you do to my baby girl?” his voice had risen several octaves and he looks at me like I killed her, his little girl. He grabs for me but I jump off the bed, running out of my room. “Miranda, you get back here!” I take the stairs two at a time as I hurry to get out of the house. He follows me, but the alcohol has made him slower. I pause when I get to the front door; loud thuds and the sound of glass shattering enters the air. That’s when I realize that my drunken father has fallen down the stairs, but I don’t care. I open the door and dart outside into the cold night air.
The cold bit into my skin, my thin pink pajamas did nothing for me. Mommy will be home later… I’ll just go back then. I walk to the neighborhood park barefooted.
I sit down on the green painted bench and look around. The small park was empty and the street lamp nearby hardly illuminated the place. I sigh as I bury my feet into the gravel, expecting the pasty pebbles to keep my feet warm.
The squeal of rusty chains scares me and I look up, catching the eyes of a man.
His dark eyes look me over. Finally, he gives me a half smile and a small wave. I look down at my knees and sit on my cold hands. “Are you sad?” I peek up at him and shyly look away. “Tell me…what is bothering you?” I pull my feet out of the gravel and look down at them; they were the shade of an impure white, tainted with a mucky gray. “Is it your parents?” I look up again to find him looking at me, I nod slowly. “Ahh,” he sighs, “I had problems with mine too. Why don’t you join me on the swings? I’ll tell you about the time I accidently set the kitchen on fire,” he laughs.
I haven’t heard a story in forever. My mother stopped reading to me about a year ago, suddenly becoming to busy with work. Memories over whelm me and I begin to cry. I stand up and run to him. He gets off the swing and crouches down, holding his arms out to me. I hurry into his welcoming embrace. Nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck, I let it all out. His warm arms circle around me and lift me off the ground. He sat back down on the swing, still holding me. “Shhh, everything will be alright…” he mutters and continues on telling me words of comfort. I held onto that man for dear life, my tiny arms hugged around his neck.
****
Oasis watched the little girl run back down the street. He turned around and walked away in the opposite direction. Derek appeared next to him and patted him on the shoulder, “what is she? Nine? Ten? Pervert…” Oasis stops walking, “It wasn’t like that! I didn’t bite her.” He remembered hearing her thoughts, they were just depressing… Derek laughs and wipes the crimson blood from his chin; his clothes where torn and messy while his hair was still perfect. His eyes glowed, “She smelled good…”
****
YOU ARE READING
Muted Silence
ParanormalMiranda is traumatized at a very young age when her father is brutally murdered in her home. With one very infatuated vampire watching her grow up from the shadows, Miranda has a reason for concern. The only problem is she cant voice it...
