Dead Silent: Chapter 10

The next morning I woke up at dawn and could not fall back asleep, so I snuck downstairs to see what everyone was up to. Fatty was asleep on the sofa as usual, while surprisingly my parents were talking over a cup of coffee. It amazed me how they were finally getting along. I eavesdropped their whole conversation from the stairs. "Richie is not healthy," my dad said, fixing his ponytail. "Last time I saw him, he was a husky little thing. Well, not little, but, haha. Now he's just skin and bones! What, does Mitchell hog up all the food?!" I could not help laughing at that one. If there was anything good about my dad, it was that he could make fun of ANYTHING and it'd be hilarious. 1

I still despised my father more than earth itself. After all, the only real reason why he came was to snatch all the money, and he was doing it by respecting my mother for a change. She was so good for him. I remember, when I was about six years old, my mom would make him a homemade mouthwatering meal that took her hours to make, and he would just shoo her like a fly and devour it all. I also remember a couple times in their relationship when they would threaten a divorce a lot, but it never really happened until I least expected it. Well, techinically they never really broke up, just sort of separated, but I still believe that they're divorced. But my dad will do anything to get her back.2

School was pure hell, same as always, but this time it just seemed worse. Luke and his beautiful girlfriend Grace walked around the school like they were king and queen, which killed me deep down. Grace was the one person that I didn't actually hate, mostly because there was nothing to dislike. She was a bubbly girl who sometimes waved at me in the hallway, and never really badmouthed me either. But today, when I was at my locker, she came over and started flirting with me. It was awesome until prince charming caught us.3

"Hi, Richie!" she greeted with that warm smile. "Ooh, can I look through your sketchbook?" I nodded slowly and showed her it, flipping through the pages quickly and letting her see all of the things of nature. "Hey, you know, I really like that picture of an angel. Who's this for?" I shrugged. I drew that picture when I imagined me with a wife oneday, and what she might look like. That drawing was in nineth grade, when I was dumb and young and bored in math class. Since she liked it so much, I carefully tore it out for her and gave it to her. Her light green eyes lightened up and joy went through her mind, I could tell.4

"Hey, what's on your arm?" she asked me, rolling up my black sleeve. On it there were black hearts printed all over it with permanent marker, and Grace traced every one with her long fingers. That's when she started touching me in other places than my arm, such as my chest and neck. Her hands rubbed against mine, and I wanted with all of my heart to just hold her. I didn't care if she was cheating; I couldn't believe you'd even call Luke a thing. 5

That's when I felt a hard tap on my shoulder and I reluctantly turned around, scared of what was going to happen. I didn't give a flying f*** what people thought I was. I was more afraid of what this would lead to, since I got suspended before but luckily my dad was no where near me. Anyways, Luke's face was beat red and his arms were crossed. I just snickered at his act of toughness. "Mason, what are you doing with my girl?" he asked me, actually mentioning my last name for a change.6

I was relieved that Antonell didn't come tumbling over, for I needed to start acting like a man and becoming responsible for my actions. I did the risky action of wrapping my arm around her firmly and grabbing her shoulder tighly. She, of course, blushed a shade of pink, but he was one angry prep. That's when Luke did the most bothersome thing ever: he took my sketchbook outta my hands and showed the whole school. I got made fun of the rest of the day for drawing pictures of angels, bunnies, and landscapes of nature all day long. 7

Tonight's dinner was a little better because my parents discussed things instead of bickered. Unfortunately, every single thing they talked about was about how much they hated Antonell's family. "His father went to jail for thirty years, I heard," my dad said, pouring more root beer in his plastic cup.8

"What did he do?" my mom asked worriedly.9

"Charged with murdering his brother when he was his son's age."10

"MURDER?!"11

"Yup. They let him go after thirty years because noticed they didn't have enough evidence to keep him for twenty more. That's when I heard his son got locked up, well, I wasn't surprised."12

My mom started to break down crying, wiping her watery eyes with her napkin. "Sullivan..." she sobbed, with her nose dripping, "you ruined Richie! Oh, that day you left, we were both up the whole night cryin! And worst off was that it was on Christmas!" I couldn't help crying either. And that's when I decided to finally say something, to finally let out my emotions to my dad to let him know how I felt. It was all his fault that I haven't said a word in two years. It was all his fault that I was made fun of every day by the whole school. It was all his fault that any girl that I may be in love with will reject me. And it was all his fault that whatever I do, whatever I try, whatever I say, will not matter anymore and will not change anything.13

Just when I was about to open my mouth, I did not have the courage any longer. All of those emotions seemed to just float out of me. My words would have to wait longer, like I suddenly forgot how to speak.14