Author's Notes: I have been asked to adopt this story, since I have been the Beta Reader for this story for more than a year. Much of the story has been discussed with the original Author, and I have her approval to continue as I choose. I hope that I meet your approval and expectations as well.
Silence. It was the one constant thing in everyone's life, we just covered it up with noise. Laughter, idle chatter, or music. All of these things are to cover up the white noise, but what about those who can't escape it? Well I can tell you that it is not very much fun. That white noise is the back ground noise to my life, it is my only friend...
The pencil clattered against the floor as I snapped the journal closed. Honestly I don't know why I wrote in the small black book, I suppose it brought me a small sense of security by having someone to tell everything to...even if it's an inanimate object. Sighing I stared down at the black journal, it was so dark in comparison to my skin. Of course everything was, I always surrounded myself in black; black nails, cloths, make-up, and hair. It was the symbol of safety to me. It was a symbol of safety because if you wore dark colors you could blend into the shadows. No one could hurt you if you were in the shadows, no one could get you, no one could make fun of you, and no one could see you.
A pang of longing shot through my chest. Longing to be able to come out of the black solitude, but I knew it was unsafe. If I came forth again I would break and never heal...the last time...the last time-I couldn't even finish the thought. The memories were too horrid to remember. A soft sob made its way out of my throat unbidden. My black painted lips parting in silent agony, equally dark lidded eyes clenched over the deep chocolate colored irises. My long black nails raked at my pale wrists, old scars showing up as pinkish silver lines. New red lines showing up from my claws. Oh God, it's not enough! I inwardly screamed. Standing up everything seemed to sway; my heart pounded painfully, my fingers shook from the need.
Stumbling to my bathroom I pulled out my trusty ancient knife and gently placed pressure on my arm. Sliding it across my wrist, I threw back my head in a strange sort of twisted pleasure that brought its own version of temporary relief. Looking at the red lines I drew more until my sink was filled with crimson. A sadistic smile swept across my black lips, the snake bites glinted as brightly as my white teeth in the mirror. It was a feral grin, one that was common place upon my features by now. Turning on the faucet, I washed the blood away, cleaned my arm, and pulled my sleeve down. Looking back up at the mirror, I studied my tiny appearance. My hallow cheeks seemed more sunken in than I remember. The dark circles beneath my eyes making me seem worse for wear than I actually was. Sighing I straitened my long sleeve, a frown pulling at my lips. The shirt seemed loose; it was snug just a week ago. Damn... I'm already a size zero... children's section it is. I thought despairingly. Of course I hardly eat... that could contribute to the weight loss... Scowling I walked into my small bedroom and flopped down on my bed, if you could count a lumpy mattress on the floor as a bed.
Closing my eyes, I rolled onto my side and shivered. I pulled my tattered thread bare sheet over me as I curled into a ball and tried to sleep. Opening my eyes after about an hour, I rolled onto my back and rested my arms on my stomach. Staring at the ceiling, I contemplated yet again the one idea I had always entertained: suicide. I would never do it of course, I didn't have a wish to die, I just wondered what it would be like to die. Laying there well past twelve contemplating different things my eye lids finally began to sting. I closed my eyes and laid there until the darkness once again came to hold me in its arms and lull me into that blissful, tranquil oblivion.
XXXX
The sun pouring into my window is what woke me up. Jerking up I looked around and realized I had overslept. Cursing a thousand profanities under my breath, I lunged up and quickly changed into my favorite baggy black cargo pants. Grabbing my black hoody, I slipped it over my long sleeve. Walking into the bathroom, I took off my worn make up and redid it for the school day. Checking my watch, I saw that I had ten minutes before the first bell. Plenty of time to get there... if I ran. Scowling I shrugged my bony shoulders and brushed through my mostly black hair, the bangs a deep crimson. Turning I walked from the bathroom and grabbed my black messenger bag. The silver skulls etched in the fabric glinting in the light as I slung it over my shoulder.
Sighing, I slowly opened my door and peered down the hallway listening intently. I didn't hear Dad anywhere, nor did I see him. Either he got drunk and passed out or he's out at the whore house again. Shuddering in disgust I quickly walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, grabbing an apple I tiptoed toward the door. I could never know when he decided to return or wake up; it was like walking on eggshells in this house. Reaching toward the door knob I heard a stair creak.
"Shit." I wanted to whisper softly, but the words couldn't leave my mouth. Panic filled my chest as my heart quickened, adrenaline coursing through my veins. A ragged man stumbled down the steps, his brown hair oily and matted. Drunken half-crazed muddy brown eyes locked on me. Raising a shaking hand he slurred out hissing words that made my skin crawl.
"You bitch. What are you still doing here?" I backed up against the door, my eyes wide in fear, the bruises that littered my body started aching at the sight of him. The cuts on my wrists throbbed in time with my heartbeat. Reaching behind me I managed to finagle the door open as he rushed me. Slipping out I slammed it, the sound of something heavy colliding with it made me flinch. The door jarring against my back and the loud thud making me wonder if he had a concussion. A growl made its way past my lips. Good let him have a concussion. I hope he dies too! I thought with conviction. Walking down the road, I took my time knowing I would be late anyways. These walks and the hours at school were a plus in my opinion: any time away from him was precious and helped me keep what little sanity I had left.
Sighing I held back a groan of annoyance at the sight of the school before me. Time always seemed to slip by so fast just when I didn't want it to. I hated school. Well... not school, school, exactly; I was always interested in learning new things, it was the students that bothered me. Biting back a growl of annoyance, I tromped up the steps and into the school. Let the torture begin.
XX
By the time school was over, I was thoroughly peeved. How immature could some people be? I mean honestly, that Witwicky boy actually had something interesting to say for his project, well… besides the whole auctioning thing that he had going on, and Trent had to go and throw the paper clip? Ugh! The nerve of some people! I really hoped he got that A though, I had heard he was trying to get a car and an A would be a step closer toward it. Shaking my head, I headed to the girls bathroom and pulled out makeup bag. Setting my black messenger bag on the floor I touched up my lip stick and eye shadow. That was about all of the makeup I wore beside some eyeliner and mascara. The sound of footsteps echoing with laughter caught my attention. Looking up in the mirror, I caught Mikaela Banes and her friends walking in. As per usual flaunting their assets. Disgust filled me as I thought of all the times my father had brought women like that home. One of the girls saw me looking at them in the mirror and sneered. Her pink lips pulling back cruelly over her over white teeth.
"Oh look, its Demon." She said snottily. My pale cheeks flushed as humiliation swept through me. Girls like them are what made my already horrible life a living hell. The worst part was, was that I couldn't tell them off. Dropping my gaze, I shoved my things back in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I went to move past them, but a hand to my chest stopped me. It was the snotty bitch again.
"Well aren't you going to apologize?" I gave her a confused look as she grinned cruelly. My lips curled as I silently sneered, lifting my hand I flicked her off. Her lips popped open with a gasp, anger in her eyes as her cheeks turned red. Turning I stormed past her, making sure to hit her with my bag. Stalking down the hall way as silently as a shadow, I contemplated the nickname I've had since I was in preliminary school. I would have thought of something different, such as Shadow. Maybe Death? Na. Shaking my head with a faint snort I heaved a silent sigh. If only I could speak, then I could give them a piece of my mind! But ever since that day...the day that changed my life forever...I can't speak. I wasn't born mute... I was made mute.
I clenched my hands into fists of silent rage at the memory, trying to forget it, but it wouldn't stay forgotten. It was a memory that haunted my sleep every night, it haunted my days and dreams. Pain lanced through my heart as I looked up at the sky. Mom I miss you... you would know what to do. I thought as I headed home slowly, but just like this morning, the time seemed to pass to quickly. All too soon I stood before my dreaded front door, the over grown weeds and cracked pavement making it that much more dreaded in my opinion. The wood work of the front door was rotting and the bricks that made up the house were crumbling. Reaching toward the doorknob I turned it and slowly walked in, I didn't see my 'father' but that didn't mean he wasn't there.
Edging into the house slowly I looked around carefully, looking for signs of him being there. When I didn't see any signs of habitation I slowly edged toward the staircase. A sound behind me had me taking off faster than a Jack Rabbit. A hand clamped down on my shoulder swinging me off my feet. Pain exploded in my side as I hit a glass cabinet. Looking up I found my father standing there. His white dress shirt untucked and wrinkled, black slacks ripped and wrinkled. His dark brown hair still oily and disheveled, a bottle of Jack clenched in his drunken hand.
"You! You shouldn't even be here you pathetic waste of space!" I tried not to flinch, as much as my father drank I liked to blame his hateful nature on the alcohol, but I knew it wasn't true. Where was the father that was fun and gentle that I sometimes remembered? I think he died when mom did. This new man... I hate him. Tears blurred my vision as I silently screamed profanities at him, but no words moved past my moving lips. Standing up, I left my bag and made a dash for the door. I made it outside... only to be grabbed from behind by my father. I kicked and squirmed, silently screaming, but no one could hear me. He dragged me upstairs and threw in my room... literally. Pain exploded in my palms and rose up my arms, fresh bruises, and cuts aching and adding to the pain already throbbing with my heart.
"Stay here until you learn some manners, whore!" He snarled drunkenly. Throwing the bottle at me, it shattered against my shoulder. Pain zipped through me as the door slammed shut and the bolt struck home. Curling into a little ball I cried silently.
'Silence. It came with misery, they were twins. And I, Demon, am the person who brings them with me. Silence and Misery dance upon those I pass, presses down on them like unbearable weights on their shoulders; but none shall hurt more than me. For I live in Silence. I am Silence. I am my own best friend.'