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silent poison 06 June 2007 - 12:52 So I'm back to where we started, three years ago. Just me and 'Ama in the same house. It's been so long since it was just us two. I'd forgotten how quiet the house can get. And it's not even that. I used to love the silence, all those years ago. It was peaceful to me. Now it's... dead. The house is so dead. I miss Angel, and I miss my sister. Before they moved in, Mar�a was living here. And before her we had Rocksee. Before that... that was when the Dud was deployed right after we moved here. And that was one depressing year. It feels that way now again. One depressing year. I see my nephew everywhere, in all the things he liked about this place, in all the things he left behind. And I can't go into the bathroom without thinking about the damn turtles, and I can't go into my own room without subconsciously checking for my sister's two cats. And I miss my sister. I keep thinking she's at work, but I know she's not. I keep wanting to call her work number just to hear her automatic greeting: "Rio Grande Recruiting Station, this is Rosa, how may I help you?" I miss the way she says it all in one breath, miss interrupting her as we begin our conversation. I miss going out to lunch with her every Friday, just her and 'Ama and me. I miss picking up Angel from daycare, miss all the little kids running around with him in a swarm, miss the yells and the giggles and Angel's eyes that are just like mine but more beautiful because they're on his face. I miss his bouncing ball of hair he has for a head, miss him running up to me when he sees me, holding out his little arms. I miss the sound of his voice, the sound of my sister's voice, and the cats when they meow and purr and trill. I miss the sound of the turtles splashing around in their aquarium in the bathroom. All that is gone now, and I'm left with the silence. These walls are so dead now.And I know I've got to get past this; I know someday I probably will. I'll grow used to the silence again, but never love it the way I used to. I can't love the stillness over the sound of my nephew's laughter, over my sister's bachata music she plays on her computer when she dances with her son. And I don't even like bachata. I just... I don't feel I can do this anymore. Any sound I try to make: my rock music just reminds me of Angel when he headbangs when he tries to imitate me, and how he inherited my love of all things black and silver and spikey. I miss my family, and this silence... This silence is poison to me. |