Silently Screaming

Chapter Four

CAMBER POV

   Rain. Oh, how I love the rain. Living on the coast of Washington, it rains most of the year. A sunny day is a rare, un-welcomed occurrence, at least in my eyes. When I was younger, I used to hate the rain, because when it was raining, I couldn't play outside with my mother and father. Then, that all changed, the day they were murdered. It was one of the sunniest, hottest, days Florida had seen in years.

   When I was found, they immediatley put me in foster care. I jumped from house to house, state to state, until I was placed with Carol. All of the foster families, they could never put up with my silence. At first, they would act like it was all okay, but after a while, they lost their sympathy for me and started getting annoyed. Carol, unlike the others, is trying to forever fix me, which is annoying, but  I guess it's better than being flat-out pain in the ass to her. I try to comply with her wishes, because if I don't, I fear she won't want me anymore, and give me up, like everyone else has. I'm the unwanted child.

   Glancing down at my phone screen, the clock reads 1:11 a.m. Everyone else in the house is asleep or away, so I take the chance to slip out. Closing the front door behind me, I step out into the torrential downpour. I pull my hood up, not really caring if I get soaked to the bone. I ignore the cars in the drive- I don't need one, my feet work perfectly fine.

   Stepping into the abandoned street, I take a second to look at my home. Old and Victorian, it's been here for at least 100 years. Trees cover most of the front, but the back is all clear. It gives off a sort of gloomy appearance late at night, but in the day, when the creatures inside it are awake, it's like the sun. The good sun- not the sun that I curse every day. Living on the coast, you can here the waves crashing against the rocks- quite a soothing sound.

   Turning back into the road, I walk to the end of the street, and take a left, into town. During the day, I wouldn't be caught dead in the center of town, but late, during my sleepless nights, it's my sanctuary.

   The walk is a mere ten minutes, hardly enough time for me to think. Not once, do I see any sign of  human existance, for everyone in the subarbs are sleeping, or in some club, somewhere.

   Standing in front of the shop window, I can see her from here. Her bleached, light blonde hair and brown highlights, her crystal blue eyes, her tall, skinny frame. She's working the cash register, and due to the look on her face, having an argument with yet another rude customer. Anyone who even looks at her the wrong way is considered rude in her eyes.

   Walking in, the ringer on the door notifies the employees I'm here.  The noise causes the girl to look over at me, and immediatley she grins. Running from behind the counter, she screeches my name.

   "CAMBER!!! OH MY GOSH! HI!" She runs just short of me, standing a safe enough distance from me so I don't go into panic mode. This girl-Ivori, is my best friend. From birth we've known each other, and were inseperable. Then, when I was put into the harsh world of foster care, we lost touch. Or so I had thought. Little did I know, that her parents had been keeping a tab on me, and were the ones who suggested I be placed with Carol. They had moved to Washington within the years, and wanted to reconnect with me. They knew I had gone mute, but still wanted to see me all the same. They were able to tell me more about what happened on that night, more than I remembered at the time. My foster family doesn't know I visit them, for personal reasons.

   After Ivori clocks out, we head back out into the rain. Instead of walking this time though, we take her old Jeep. Driving in comfortable silence, we end up at the beach soon enough. Slipping out of my shoes and hoodie, I follow her onto the sand. We walk to our spot in the woods. It's perfect. You can see the beach, but the people on the beach can't see you.

   "Y'know, I think you should get into music or something. Like playing the guitar, or drums, or piano. Express yourself that way, instead of cutting. Don't get me wrong- I get why you do it, and I'm not trying to stop you or anything, but you need a healthy way to release your emotions too. Maybe if you drew something other than those spooky eyes, you could become an artist." Ivori talks a mile a minute, but I don't mind. She doesn't expect an answer, because she knows she won't get one, but she knows I do hear what she says. It gets so annoying that people think just because I don't talk, means I can't hear either, which is beyond wrong.

   "You should come see my band sometime- The Carebear Killers. Y'know, we're trying to get a demo out. I personally want to get signed to Hopeless Records. I know they aren't big, but they must be doing something right with All Time Low. Plus I like risks." Her aimless dialogue intrigues me, draws me in. She is my best friend, and nothing will ever change that in my mind. I may never speak to her out loud, but I know, she hears the voice in my soul, like a true friend can.

*A/N: I'm trying to go back and add pictures to my previous chapters, so go check them out! The picture on the side is of Camber's house...isn't it pretty? If you have any suggestions for where you want this story to go, or something that you want to happen in it, message me. I'm all ears because as of right now I don't have a specific plot. Oh, and go eat some eggless cookie dough...that shit is

-TheNowhereKid