Amy, Martin & The Elements Of Winter

13. The Phone Call

When I arrived at home, I waved at Sarah to say goodbye. I threw my schoolbag into my room. I opened it and put my homework onto my desk. Then I threw myself onto the bed. I wanted to think.

Suddenly my father's phone started to ring. I quickly rushed down to answer it. But my father was faster. He answered it. I sneaked down the stairs. I heard my name. He was talking about me to someone. I wanted to come closer to hear more. Suddenly I tripped over something but I could hold myself from falling down. But father seemed to hear me. I quickly hid behind the stairs. He concentrated on the phone call again. I started to listen.

Excuse me Sir, I just heard something strange. So what was that, Amy behaves strange at school?

Yes, today for example she told a teacher that she was unable to talk. She wrote a note for him.

What? She never told me about that! She really behaves strange since last month. She said something about a 'bad experience'.

Oh, now I know! Her mother died back then. That's maybe why she doesn't talk.

I listened to every single word. It was interesting but weird at the same time. Interesting because someone was finally caring about me again and noticing me. But weird because I was used to being ignored since my mother's death. I felt a little more warmth in my heart than before. Someone finally cared about me except my best friend Sarah. She always cared about me. But my soul was still cold. I couldn't really feel happy. It was just a little delightful. A little bit. My father stopped the phone call. "Amy!" he called after me. I stopped breathing. I didn't want him to know that I was listening. He ran up into my room. I took a satisfied breath. Now I was alone for a while again. But I wouldn't be for a long time.

After a while I heard his footsteps again. He was walking down the stairs. I was nervous. But actually I couldn't care less. I couldn't talk to him. I couldn't cry. I couldn't have emotions. Even if I would get in trouble, it wouldn't hurt my soul. I was a really sensitive human. I hated it when people were talking to me behind my back. Or even when they were talking to me about my mistakes. My father was coming closer.

I didn't allow myself to breathe. He was about to find me. I could feel it. He arrived downstairs. I pushed myself against a dark corner under the stairs. If I would be lucky, he wouldn't notice me. One mistake, one detail and I would get in trouble.