Dinner since the incident with my mum had always been awkward. The routine was simple, my father, Mitch, would run a hand through his hair and sigh. He would place three of the only take-out menus in Naomi and place them on the counter with a note pad. I would write my order and from which restaurant I would want for dinner. He would order, pick it up, and attempt to make it look like a home made meal. I never understood why he did it considering all of the meals other families in town would cook for us. We had an endless supply of casseroles, lasagnas, cookies, and pot roast stored up.
Tonight, however, was the first night of Summer and we had a lovely meal from Chang's. I ordered Sweet & Sour chicken with pork fried rice on the side. My father had gotten General Tso's and stared in my eyes.
"Felicity, I miss your voice." He said repeating what he had said many times since my mother had died. I returned the sentence with a blank stare, biting my lips. I took the chopsticks and fastened them in my hair creating a sloppy bun. My dad began to cry, since my mother's death he had cried once or twice, but this was full blown sobs. I hated seeing my dad cry. He was the only strong, stable, person I had in my life.
"Felicity, you can't blame yourself for this. You're fifteen and you're home all of the time. You need to promise me you'll live your life, and not let this hold you back." I nodded, feeling stuffy inside. I couldn't comprehend what had brought this fit on, not knowing why all of a sudden the emotions triggered. Then I recalled that June twenty-sixth was approaching. I had even forgotten that it was Summer. Kids in my grade where starving for three packed months of social interaction. I laughed at the thought of me hanging out with ANYONE in my school. I don't even have a cellphone, my father kept offering to buy me an Iphone 4s or a droid but I simply shook my head. I didn't have any friends so why bother? It hurt seeing that me not speaking breaking my father's heart. He begs me to speak but I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to even if I tried. This Summer I would devote myself to speaking.
The two-year anniversery of my mother's death was approaching. I decided that I would find my voice and break the silent barrior holding me back in my life. I often think about how my life would be different if I hadn't lost my voice when I lost my mother. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. This Summer would be different. This Summer I would move on. This Summer I would speak, no matter what.
