"Mommy?" I softly called out.
"Yes baby?" She hummed as she looked down at me.
"If you could be any insect what would you be?" I asked.
"I'll be a butterfly" she said smiling.
"Why a butterfly?" I said while I glanced up at the stars.
"Because they are so beautiful as you see them flutter around you and you know what makes them even better? " My mom questioned me.
"What?" I said Looking at her.
"They don't make a sound". She said as she turned her attention to the starry night.
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Meeting my father and his family wasn't at all how I had expected it. He was so happy to see me or at least that's what he appeared to look like when I stepped off the car. I didn't know how to behave around them but I knew that shouldn't trust them right away.
Jacob is nice, that's all I know. He practically dragged me away by my hand showing me around the house but I knew that it would take me a couple of weeks to get it memorized. This place was huge and the wealth practically oozed out of the wall and I wasn't sure if I wanted to yell or cry.
I did neither because although my mother and I never had all of these fancy things, we had each other. The clothes that they are wearing looks expensive, nothing compared to my old clothes.
"This is your room" the little boys voice interrupted my thoughts and I looked up to see a white door. It had my named written on it. It was so clean and elegant. Nothing
compared to my door of my old room, where I had posters and graffiti signs that I made. It was like a collage on my door, my piece of art.I had to swallow the lump that was building up in my throat. My mom always referred to my room as a piece of art. She would buy me canvases when ever she could and watch me paint for hours. She was my number one fan.
Decorating this room is going to be a challenge already. No one is going to be there sitting down watching me as I jump around painting and decorating. I never liked the idea of leaving a corner untouched.
My room was mine. Something nobody could ever take away from me. Except of course, my mothers death.
My throat was dry just looking at this door. It was so different and foreign to me. I was very hesitant to open it and the little boy just stared at me with wide eyes. I looked back at him asking him if he could open it.
He laughed and opened the door. The room was very spacious with a queen size bed in the center of the room. It had two night stands and lamps with crystals hanging around the bulb. It illuminated the room giving it a very 'fairy' feel to it. The walls were painted a sky blue with long flowy lavender curtains.
It was a lot for me to take in. It was very pretty, like a picture out of a magazine.
That's what bothers me.
None of these four walls had my personality nor memories that I shared dearly with my mom.
"Do you like it?" Jacob asks. He walks inside before me and sits on the bed running his hands on the duvet.
I nod and continue to look around at my new room. I immediately had ideas in ways to paint the walls, pictures I could paint, collages I could plaster on these plain blue walls.
"I was hoping you did like it" Jacob smiles widely as he looks around. He gets up and walks over to some double doors and motions me to walk over to him.
"Okay, close your eyes" He demands.
I do as I'm told hesitantly and feel his small hands guide me in inside the open doors.
"Open your eyes" And I did.
I was looking at a walk in closet with hangers, drawers and shoe organizers. But what astonishes me the most is that it was already equipped to the bones with new clothing.
Clothes that isn't mine.
I open my mouth to speak. To ask. To yell. For anything to come out but I'm greeted with the familiar silence.
Its moments like these that I wish I could speak. I didn't want any of these new things. My old things were perfectly fine. I quickly look around and notice that my moms stuff were no where to be seen.
Tears. Ache. Frustration.
Emotions that overtake me as I look around frantically looking for anything that was mine. That's familiar.
"You don't like it" The child asks me as he watches me riot over the new expensive clothing.
I open my mouth to yell 'no' and I tug at my frizzy hair. This is too much for me to handle. I want my old life back.
I want my voice back.
He watches me in horror as I toss the pieces of cotton around going through the drawers looking for my moms stuff.
My vision was already blurry and I don't bother wiping the tears away.
I don't notice when Jacob ran away calling for his dad to come and see what I'm doing. Or maybe I just ignored him. Because right at that moment.
I hated them all.
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Hey guys! whoever leaves the best comment will get a dedication next chapter.
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(sorry for the short chapters)
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Mute
Teen Fictionthe story of how a girl lost her voice, her mother and everything she once knew in a tragic airplane accident.