Unspoken

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Arianna! Get up!” my mother screams from downstairs. I roll my eyes even though she can’t see. It’s only seven, but I’ve already been up for hours. Mostly because of the nightmares that keep me awake through the night trembling under my covers. I ignore my mother’s screaming and continue to sit on my bay window seat and read. Eventually she has enough and stomps up the stairs to my room.

“I know that you heard me! You’re mute, not deaf,” she sneers at me as she slams my bedroom door open.

She’s already dressed to perfection, every hair in its place. My mom won’t stand for less then perfect, even though our family is far from it. Most know her as Mary Lou Rogers, successful real estate agent. She has straight pale hair and icy blue eyes that can look quite scary when she wants them to. They’re giving me a look right now that has been known to make grown men cry, but I just stare at her solemnly, never saying a word. I quietly set down my book and follow her as she storms down the hallway. She leads me to the bathroom where a dress is hanging on the door.

“Get dressed and don’t come out until you tame that hair,” she snips and then she notices a worker is setting up a table in the wrong spot and her anger is directed elsewhere.

I duck into the bathroom with the dress, slipping the door shut behind me. Quickly, I slip the white eyelet dress over my head, managing to tangle up my curly brown hair even more in the process. I got my hair from my father, but you wouldn’t know it from the gray tint that has begun to spread across his head.

I look into the full length mirror, my midnight blue eyes staring back at me. I scan myself over to check for anything that will make my mother angry. Normally I don’t care what she says, but today I’d rather stay out of her way. She’s having a huge party for practically anyone who is important in this town. Every year she throws this party and she spends a huge amount of time planning it, not to mention a huge amount of money on it. She says that everyone expects her to throw the best party of the year and she will if it kills her. Image means a lot to her and this is why today of all days I try to look my best. The simple white dress hugs my curves slightly and I have to give it to my mom that it looks quite nice. I’m fairly pretty with my delicate heart-shaped face and tiny waist. I‘ve maintained a meager five feet for the past year without much hope of growing taller by this point. People have told me since I was young that I was beautiful. My mom would always say that of course I was beautiful, I was her daughter after all. I honestly could care less what I looked like anymore. When I was younger, before things changed, I was turning into my mother. I cringe whenever I think about it, but it’s obvious I was following in her footsteps. Luckily I came to my senses and can’t stand the things that she adores so much. That’s the one good thing to come from losing my brother, it made me see things much more clearly.

I spend as much time in the bathroom as I possibly can, waiting until I don’t hear my mother anywhere nearby. Finally, I slip out and silently walk down the hall, pausing when I pass the grand staircase that descends to the downstairs floor. There are a bunch of men running around setting up for the party, under my mother’s watchful eye. One mistake and she will be on them like a hound. Before she sees me I continue down the hall to my bedroom.

I grab my journal and head out the back door, away from all of the commotion. We have a beautiful garden with a little stone bench in the middle and this is where I head. No one will look for me out here for awhile. I sit down and let some of the words trapped inside my head to crawl out and onto the paper, coming together to form the story of a girl lost inside her thoughts.