Her Silence

Chapter Seven

"Blood means you're related. It does not mean you're family." Mr Feeny

As I get closer to home a burning feeling begins building in my stomach. I know it's a mixture of things: I'm about to tell my deepest secrets to someone I barely know, and that certain someone makes me feel off guard about nearly everything. James is going to be in my apartment, alone; it's my safe place, but I know it will find me vulnerable. I see a black Mercedes parked on the other side of the road and I know it's him – I've made myself familiar with my neighbours's cars and recognise all but his. As I walk through the lobby, I hear faint footsteps behind me, and when I turn around, I see James jogging over to me. The realisation of what is about to happen overwhelms me and I feel my eyes closing and my chest constricting. As I batter my eyelids in attempt to keep them open a flickered version of James fills my view and his voice swirls around in my head. The repetition of my name begins to bore me, and I shake my head as a plea for it to stop but it doesn't, so instead I wave my hands around until I've grabbed onto something and begin to squeeze it. Material glides through my fingers and it's damp but cool. I pull myself towards it to rest my head on it and I'm immediately calm. After staying like this for a few short minutes I open my eyes but don't look up – it's embarrassing.

"It's okay. You don't need to be ashamed." I smile into James's coat, because that's what I figured it out to be. The moisture of it had become muggy as the heat of my body and the coolness of his jacket had danced and entangled with each other, so I pull away and place my hands on my cheeks. They too were wet, but this time from my own tears that had proudly made an appearance. In anger and full of determination I begin to claw away at them, but this doesn't last long. James gently takes my wrists in his hands and pulls them away from my face. I know that this is hideous – I'm now sobbing horrendously, the noise echoing throughout the lift that James had dragged me into. The journey upwards takes a while, and before I know it, the state I was previously in had subdued. 

"For what it's worth, you're not an ugly crier. Every cloud, right?" His attempt to cheer me up is sweet.

The lift stops and he leads me to my door. I stop and begin to panic again, wondering how he knew where I lived. As though he could read my mind, he looked back at me and sighs.

"I took the keys out of your hand Rosie. It has your floor and room number on it." Oh yeah. I giggle, and James is now looking at me as though I had gone mad, and I agree with that presumption. My mood has done a full one-eighty and even I'm struggling to keep up with my emotions. As we get into my apartment, I heave myself onto my sofa whilst James heads to the kitchen. I hear the kettle turn on and I roll my eyes at how he is already making himself at home, but I can't deny the smile I have on my face.

"You shouldn't even have your details on your keys – anyone could have been in my position just then and could have taken advantage of you... and those damn keys." He calls. "And then I'd have two people to hunt down." He walks in with a cup of coffee, maybe out of choice or maybe because that's all I own. Then he surprises me by giving it to me.

"Drink it. So," he starts, "I'm guessing that you're planning on telling me something important, but the very thought of it, let alone telling me, terrifies you. Am I right?" I nod whilst taking a sip of the coffee, terrified, ironically. He can read me too well and surprises me even further by taking my hand. "I have dealt with people before you whose past is riddled within in them and they let in follow them everywhere and determine every decision they make. I know that you simply want your past to be gone and forgotten, but just for this moment I need you to embrace it and realise that it could bring everything forward and end the malicious cycle of events happening at Tidy. Do you see where I'm coming from?" I nod, of course I do. All I want to do is help and put an end to this, but at the same time it would be wonderful if this whole fiasco didn't include me, and I could do exactly as James said and simply leave the past where it belongs: in the past.

-----

Dad had barged through the door in a state that evening. I had been up in my room when I heard howls and sobs and croaks of despair. Mum was swearing, praying, looking up to the Lord and down to Satan, anywhere but Dad's eyes.

"This going to ruin us. It is, I swear it."

"I'll find another job. Tomorrow, I'll spend my whole day dedicating it to finding somewhere else. Somewhere even better." Mum had scoffed at this, saying that we aren't the type of people who get 'better'. Better things, jobs, or money. Hearing this had only made me frown, making me believe her to be more of a hypocrite than ever before. She hasn't worked a day in her life since I was born, nor made the effort to find somewhere. "I do it for you, Rosie." She'd say. But it just wasn't plausible enough.

The days would roll by, but Dad never found the 'better' job that he 'd promised Mum. No job at all, in fact. He sauntered around miserably, only ever trying to make me smile, but never himself. Mum wouldn't utter a single word his way, nor my way, and only thanked the bottles of alcohol which had snuck its way into our house and into mums stomach a few days after it was apparent Dad wasn't going to find another job anytime soon. It was never made clear to me why Dad had lost his job in the first place, but it's not something I pondered over. It wasn't important to me.

Both of my parents' eyes grew empty, and their sockets hollow, both for different reasons. They were living, but they weren't alive, and it was during that noticeable moment that I decided I was going to live every day like it was my last. I would sing out of sorrow, out of happiness, or out of boredom; I would scream on my bike out of fear or excitement, and I greeted every person I met. The rolling days turned into months, and I lived with little regrets. Mum had moved out and she was what I deemed to be a true alcoholic – she looked at the poison with more love than she ever had with me. Dad was happier but blamed himself for everything, still jobless. I never knew know how we got the money for food and to pay the pills, but it worked. I was too naïve to notice how broken he was, but I know he would blame himself even further for what happened to eleven year-old-me afterwards.

-----

"After what? What happened?" James asked.

"He was too broken to be fixed." I replied, proud that I was lasting this long without breaking down but knowing that what I'm about to reveal will wreak havoc within me.

*****

Whoa... Rosie's past is surfacing, and more will certainly be revealed in the next chapter. What do you think about her parents?

Are you an ugly crier or do you think you look relatively okay? I was in a predicament a while ago where one of my dear friends said I'm not an ugly crier, so I knew I had to include it in this chapter!

I think it's obvious that James cares for Rosie, let's see how far he will go for her... will it get in the way of his work do you think?

Don't forget to vote! Comment on your favourite parts and add Her Silence to your library if you want to find out more and read on!