'Lydia Peyton Babble! Hurry down here before we lose the moving truck!' My mom yells from somewhere downstairs.
Can you yell any louder? I'm sure that the neighbors wouldn't mind taking back the brownies. I think to myself. I've never really talked, I've only sang every now and then. My mom has never heard me talk, not even as a baby. Doctor's have discussed my moms concern with her and they hadn't found anything wrong with me. But my mom is heck bent on saying something that will explain my dislike towards speaking. She thinks that something is wrong with my throat, like maybe a defect or something like that.
But truth is even as a child I hadn't seen the point in talking, it was useless in my mind. To be honest, actions speak louder than words when it comes to me. But I just go with what my mom wants to say.
I slowly drag my feet downstairs, taking my sweet time on each one because I'm dramatic like that.
I see my Mom already in the car, looking at me mouthing Hurry Up. I nod my head and carry on walking, while I'm walking I take in my mothers appearance, She has short brown hair with gray eyes, the ones that seem very warm and inviting, with pale skin. No freckles and no dimples. I cant see it when she sits down, but she's really tall, her and my dad were both really tall. My mom towers at 6'5 and my dad was nearly 7 ft. Well that's what my mom tells me.
I on the other hand only have my mothers grey/blue eyes. But mine don't look warm and inviting, My eyes are what my mom likes to describe as intriguing. They show no emotion, like as if I was stuck in between happy and sad but not quiet angry yet. They have a dark black circle around them, making them stand out, that's what they call the dramatic affect, and it works for me because my mom says I'm very dramatic. I have my fathers hair Blond and wavy, only mine is long past my butt. Which isn't a big feat because I'm only 4'11, which I don't know why I'm so short but hey crap happens. I always have a far off look about me, like I could be doing one thing but not be thinking only one thing. My mom says she can never tell what I'm thinking and she wishes I could speak.
I also have my Fathers caramel skin, and freckles that dot my face like little galaxy's. I have one dimple on my left side cheek, and I wear circle glasses like they wore in the 1960's just mine are for seeing not blocking out the sun.
I made my way to the car at this point and as soon as I get in my mom puts petal to the metal, before I can even buckle up. Gee thanks mom..
I see my mom talking but I block it of with my headphones, turning the volume up to its max. I rest my head against the window. This is going to be a long ride. I slowly drift off into a light sleep, which soon turns into deep even breathing and I know not even a thunderstorm could wake me up.
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I wake up in a bed, so I'm assuming that my mom carried me here after we got in. These are the times my Small size is amazing. Without getting up from what I assume is my new bed, and my new room, I look around.
On the opposite side of the room from where my bed is there is a bay window/ Balcony. Now that I know I'm on the second level since nobody would put a balcony on the first floor, I continue my sweep off my room. The walls are painted exactly the same as my old house, A light gray with white trims.
To my left is my nightstand from home which is black, on it are contents like my Alarm clock which is gray and my lamp that Is white. Looking further than my nightstand, my eyes go to the door also on my left which looks out into the hallway. Next to the door is my white dresser, Across the room on the right hand side is two doors. One is slightly ajar but the other one closest to me is wide open with the light on. My mom knows that I am absolutely terrified of the dark, not really as much the dark itself or what's in the dark. But it's ability to make me feel like I'm being watched but also make me feel like I'm alone.
The door that has the light on is what seems to be a bathroom, I supposed my stuff is already in there since everything else seems to be in its place. The door next to it is what looks to be a walk in closet. Perfect! I see my Mirror next to the closet door, its a golden framed antique mirror my mom got me four summer ago for my birthday. I look back down to the bed that I'm, or was, sleeping in. The comforter is a Black fluffy blanket with little golden designs. With pillows to complement the color scheme I have going on here are white with one golden and black throw pillow. I love Black, Gold, White, And Gray. Those are my favorite colors and have been the colors of my room for as long as I can remember. I have a modern room taste, But my dressing style is old meets new age.
I look up and see that even my Christmas lights are hung up, framing my walls and hanging on the lights by wooden pins are photos. Some are of me and my mom, Some are just me, then one is of my mom and dad before he left. The picture had always stood out to me, because my mom looks so happy in it. They looked like the golden couple, My mom had never really told me what happened to my dad so I have always assumed he walked out on us.
The picture is of my mom who was pregnant with me at the time, with my dad. My mom was sitting down on the stairs of what looks to be a old apartment building. She was leaning in between my dads legs behind her where he too, was sitting on the steps. His huge bulky arms were wrapped around my mother, his hands were on her stomach. The picture was taken when he was in mid laugh, my mom wasn't even looking at the camera. She was looking at my dad with loving eyes, completely in awe of whatever it was that he did.
If he ever came back, I would show him this picture and make sure he saw how happy they were.
Then I would hug him with my mom who would probably be crying.
I smile at the thought of him coming back, I shouldn't be thinking these hopeless things because I learned long ago that love is not always out there waiting to be found. It can disappear as fast as it came and you'll be left with the regret of not doing something about it.
I look over back at my nightstand to see my alarm clock read 12:56am, me being me I needed no further reasoning to go back to bed. I curl up on my side and pull the comforter over my head I cuddle up to my gold and black throw pillow , my breath starts evening out and I soon find darkness taking over me, and I let it.
Authors note: I want to let you guys know that this is my first book and its not going to be perfect. And to be honest I wont start editing until I'm finished with this book as a whole. So until you see that COMPLETED thing above by the title then don't bother with critique yet.
Don't forget to be doing these following things,
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and P.S the picture wherever you see it is Lydia Babble also known as Dia
WORD COUNT: 1408 WORDS COUNTED
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