Calling For Help

Twelve: The Quiet

April 2010

Aaliyah'sPOV

I laid there on my bed, in the quiet just thinking. It was 11:58 P.M. I couldn't sleep. All the things me and Ramona found out the past few months about Patrick. They kept replaying the imaginative images, of what could've happened. Or might have happened. I mean its not everyday you find out your single mother's current boyfriend is a ex con man and now he owns some Major company. The thing is it's not some any kind of company. The company is called Smith's CO. (how cliche) when I was little I remember my dad used to talk about a lot. I remember those days we used to live in a normal but kind of big house. A few months later, after my dad had died a bunch of guys with suits came and told us we had to leave, almost like we didn't belong here. Worst day ever. I mean not only did we lose my father, but also the house. That year it just felt like everything was just falling apart. The Garcia's were so kind enough to let us live with them for about a year. Until my mom saved enough money to buy an apartment for just the both of us. It's very funny how life works. Once you're done with one obstacle, there's literally another problem waiting for you at the finish line. When really what you think is the finish line is really just a check point. You never really reach the finish line until you die. So I lay here in my bed at 12:45 A.M. thinking about life. Laying in the dark, and I hear nothing. Because it is quiet. The quiet. The quiet is unbearable. Because I can think straight and understand everything. I feel it, do you? Something is coming. I feel it. I don't know when. I don't know how. So don't ask. Just know and comprehend. That something is coming. An event is on it's way. I don't know how to prepare, but I'll sit down and watch. In the Quiet.