The Secret To The Silence

Silence. The unbearable blanket of emptiness that covers my house. Mum and Dad don’t talk; they keep to themselves and the house is just one awkward place. I hate the sound of nothing. I hate the fact that I have no one to talk to. It’s why I often go up to the attic to listen to music.
As I enter the attic, the musty smell welcomes me. I plug in my headphones and zone out of reality. I let the rhythm take me away and begin to dance in my depressing happy place.
“SHIZZLES!”
I snap back into reality as I stub my toe on a dusty box I’ve never noticed before. Curious, I open it and find a bunch of baby stuff. In the bottom of the box is a very worn-out photo album with burn marks on the side.
Opening it, I notice two babies smiling up at me. The sun begins to set, and I put the album back and head back down to the silence of my bedroom.
My eyes slowly close and I drift off to another world. My blood pumping, I’m running. Running to nowhere, the wind through my hair, I feel free. My feet lead me to a forest, a beautiful arc of trees. Suddenly, a hole opens and I’m falling, falling into a pit of misery, the darkness swallowing me.
I wake up gasping. The weirdest feeling of being trapped washes over me as the golden sun rises and shines through the window. The dream replays through my head constantly, taking up all my thinking space.
Night falls again. The same hammering feeling; I’m running again. Chasing a girl. Together we run, run to the forest. We stop before it and she turns to me. It’s only then that I realise that I’m staring at myself. She smiles and beckons me to follow, and I do. She leads me to the tree in the centre of the forest, the largest one. She etches something into the trunk...
My eyes fling open and I feel more alone than ever. I need fresh air. The cold of the night stings my face and my feet protest as I stand, looking up at the moon, barefoot in my pyjamas. Then I’m walking. Ignoring the burn with each step, I continue to who-knows-where. And then I’m running, the air freezing my lungs as my feet lead me. Before I know it, I’m standing outside the forest, my teeth chattering, and it’s only then that I realise how stupid I am for leaving the house. Something pushes me forwards and I’m walking through the forest. I’m in the centre, the largest tree in front of me. Scrawly writing catches my eyes. My heart stops. A chill runs down my spine. The world stops spinning. Precious Isiltasun. Who? No. That’s not possible. I’m backing away from the tree, the night seeming much colder than it originally was. I run. Faster than I ever have in my life.
Back in my house, I sprint up the stairs, and fling open the attic. I would’ve known. I desperately search for the album. My head, spinning, fills with more thoughts than ever. I take the picture out. My hands are shaking. They would have told me. I turn it over. It is true. The blue inky writing tears my insides out and I feel like I am going to throw up.
All the pieces of my life click together as I fall apart. Angel and Precious Isiltasun. The sister I never knew.

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