Spark

12 - Silence

There's darkness in the distance-Daylight.

"Starr?" I heard him call. I was familiar with his voice. It was warm. Nice. Home. It reminded me of home, because to me, he's home.

It was rough and sometimes scratchy and deep enough to be considered a baritone but to me, it didn't matter what it sounded like, just what it felt like.

I turned around, a grin etched onto my face and stared at my father. His brown hair was starting to have a bit of grey in it and his smile lines had deepened more from the last time I saw him. I hoped that meant he was happy.

"Dad?" I gasped. I was shocked but I wasn't. He'd left the house just last week after having a row with mom. There had been a lot of words and Charlotte wouldn't let me leave my room until I heard the front door slam.

I ran to the front day, shouting behind him to get an idea of where he was off to. He didn't acknowledge me and even I knew I was starting to seem desperate and just sad, so I trailed back into the house and just sat on the sofa and waited.

Now he's here. Right in front of me. Well, right in front of my school too. This caused a flicker of hope in my chest, that he and mom were okay too.

"You good, fighter?" He returned my smile and patted my hair.

He ruffles Charlotte's but pats mine.

He calls me fighter because I once took interest in the boxing classes he took a couple of years back and demanded he taught me some. I didn't last a month.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Are you coming home?" My curiosity has no patience. Get it out now and have it done with.

He chuckled. "For a bit. I need to grab something, then I'll be back, really."

My smile grew and we left the school for home together. When we got home, he seemed on edge and looked about for a bit before returning to me.

"Fighter, do you happen to know where your mom's kept the cards and stuff?" He asked, leading us both up the stairs.

"You mean her credit cards?" I asked to ensure clarity.

He nodded. I knew where she kept this.

I was just about to trail over to where all the important stuffs were when the front door swung open and I heard mom shouting for me.

"I'm in here!" I called out from up the stairs.

She ran up and I saw what a frantic mess she looked. Her mascara was running and her eyes were red. She lunged for me and pulled me into her arms before putting me back at arm's length and started nagging me.

"Why would you leave the school with him?" She screamed, turning her attention on Dad now. "And what are you doing in here? You're not supposed to be here."

My gaze flickered between the both of them. That's when I first read anxiousness. My dad looked so anxious right then.

"Dad wants the credit cards." I said each of these words slowly, unsure of what was about to happen.

My mom's eyes widened and she got off her knees in front of me and walked over to dad and slapped him.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Michael," She bit out. "Get out of my house now before I call the cops."

I realized what was happening. That meant dad was never coming home again. No. No. No. What had I done? I was panicked. I'd jeopardized everything. I was a bulldozer and I'd ruined everything.

My eyes began to brim with tears but I couldn't let them fall because they wouldn't fall. I just stood and watched this heated interaction between my parents with my fists clenched by my sides.

I blamed myself.

I ruined everything.

That night, after dad had left and mom was done trying to disguise her tears from me and Charlotte, she sat us down at the coffee table in the living room. I was eight, Charlotte was ten and we heard our mom break our hearts for our dad.

He has another family. A kid. He can't be bothered with us.

My heart really did break because he only came back to use me to wreck mom. Taking her cards for his new family? That was evil for me at eight.

My heart broke and my silence was sealed.

I never wanted to speak to anyone again. Never wanted to build relationships that would cause me ache. I just wanted to be in my own mind and enjoy it.