She hated the fact that there was never quiet in her house. Only silence. Ghosts drop hints and whisper things.
A smashed bottle. A yell. A scream. And then there it was. It was defeaning. The calm before the storm. The sickening silence that meant someone was about to get hurt. Swells the panic. I can’t look.
Rusty’s sister began to cry muffled tears into her pillow because it frightened her the most also. They knew what has happening when they heard noise but in the silence, their imagination filled in the blanks and that was much worse. There’s no soul behind these eyes.
He had been gentle for years now. Family portrait on the wall. He hadn’t hurt any of them but then he had lost his job, which had become her and her mother’s fault. Then it was other things, smaller things and soon enough, it was back to being every day. She hadn’t told Tyler the whole truth about the man that hurt her.
A slammed door. Rusty began to pick up the pieces, same as always. Just blood and bones and bits of string.