The Mute

Chapter 3

Ever since that night, I have never celebrated my birthday. It's just impossible for me to even think about being happy when I know my family was murdered that very night. When I was in the system, my guardians would try to make me celebrate my birthday, but I would never enjoy it. So instead, I would hide in my room and never come out until the day was over.

When I was sixteen, I ran away because the family treated me like Cinderella. All they wanted me was to be some obedient slave and to clean the house, keeping it up to their standards. They never cared about me because I never spoke. I overheard them one night saying that I was a perfect slave because I never talked back like all the other ones had done before me. I did feel like Cinderella at that point, so I ran away and never looked back.

I haven't been with another family since then. So, finally, I found a job and started working and saving for my own place. But before I could get it, I stayed in homeless shelters or snuck into stores that had beds so I could sleep at night. It took me months of hiding. I had to keep moving from place to place when I wasn't working, but I was eventually able to get my own place. It's not that much, but it's home. The only place I really feel safe in.

I don't really have people over, but when I do, it's only for a short period of time. I've thought about trying to have a relationship, but I always turn the idea down. Who would want to date someone that doesn't even talk? Who would like to speak to someone with such a horrible history anyway? Who would ever want to date someone who doesn't celebrate their birthday? So, as a result, I will never find the happiness I always hoped to find.

Over the years, whenever I walked home from school or worked in the store, I felt like someone was watching and following me. I still get that feeling now and then, but it doesn't bother me anymore. At least not like it used to be. I assume it's my mother coming to ruin my life, even in death. I was never on very good terms with my mother. She was always drunk and would always yell and scream at me for doing nothing but wanting her attention. She adored my brother. Probably because he was male, and she had always enjoyed the company of males.

One day, when walking home, I got that feeling I always get, but it was stronger. I heard someone following me. I quickened my pace, thinking the kids always beat me up. The footsteps quickened as well. Whoever is following me doesn't want to lose sight, that's for sure. I started heading to the crowd of people crossing the street. Before I could cross the street, the person following me grabbed me. I closed my eyes, preparing for the beating that was sure to follow. I heard a voice I never thought I would listen to again.

"It's OK now. No one is ever going to hurt you ever again. I'm never leaving your side. Open your eyes; you're safe." I did as he said and opened my eyes and saw him. My eyes light up, and tears fill them. I hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.