Eva's pov
Silence has weight.
Most people think silence is empty, soft and harmless but it isn't. It presses against your ribs. It fills your throat. It reminds you, every second, of what you cannot do.
The classroom smells like dry erase markers and cheap perfume. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, catching dust in the air and making everything look almost beautiful.
I sit in the back corner like I always do. Last desk. Last row and keep my head down. I always do to stay invisible.
My notebook is open in front of me, neat handwriting already filling the page even though the teacher hasn't started speaking yet. Writing keeps my hands busy. If my hands are busy, they don't shake.
I enjoy writing, I mostly write stories of my own.
"Evangeline."
My shoulders tense at the sound of my name being called out. I slowly lift my head and see Ms Hart, our new English teacher standing a few meters away from me.
"Can you read the next paragraph for us?"
The room stills and everyone's attention turns toward me.
My fingers tightened around my pen making knuckles turn white.
Ms hart is new and has been teaching here for two days. She has no idea that I cannot speak.
A moment passes and then another.
"Evangeline?" she presses, softer this time. Almost uncomfortable.
My throat moves automatically, like it's trying to form something that has never worked. My lips part slightly.
Nothing comes out.
It never does.
A snicker cuts through the air.
"She can't speak," Amanda snickered.
"She's mute," Ava added.
And then laughter ripples across the room.
Heat crawls up my neck. I focus on the lines in my notebook. The ink blurs slightly.
Ms. Hartley clears her throat. "That's enough. Someone else do it."
The lesson continues, but the whispers and taunts don't stop.
When the class is over and I'm almost at the door, Ms hart stops me.
"Evangeline," she calls out softly.
I turn around, meeting her gaze.
"I'm sorry about earlier on," she apologizes. "I didn't know you couldn't speak."
I nod, giving her a small smile as to tell it's okay.
"I'll see you in class tomorrow Miss Ravenswood."
_________________________________________________________________
As soon I enter the house I can feel the tension in the air.
The air smells like stale cigarettes and something burnt. The curtains are half drawn even though the sun hasn't set yet, casting the living room in a dim, yellow haze. The television is on, volume low, some meaningless chatter filling the space where warmth should be.
I close the door softly behind me and take off my shoes by the door. My bag stays clutched to my chest for a second longer than necessary.
"Finally."
Jasmine's voice slices through the room.
She's sprawled across the couch, scrolling through her phone, her long dark hair falling perfectly over one shoulder. We look nothing alike. She has long dark hair, pale skin and hazel brown eyes and as for me I have shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and porcelain skin tone.
Jasmine's eyes flick up to me. "You're late."
I shake my head quickly.
I'm not.
Her eyes narrow at me. "Don't argue with me mute," she sneers, tossing her phone onto the cushion beside her. "Go make dinner, the ingredients are on the table."
The kitchen is small and cluttered. Dirty dishes sit piled in the sink, and empty bottles line the counter near the window. I roll up the sleeves of my sweater and begin quietly cleaning the space first.
It's easier to cook when the kitchens clean and tidy.
The faucet squeaks as I turn it on. Water splashes against the metal sink as I wash the dishes quickly, stacking them neatly on the rack to dry.
Jasmine scrolls through her phone behind me, the soft tapping of her nails against the screen filling the silence.
"Whatever you do don't burn the food," she says without looking up.
_________________________________________________
The sun slowly dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold, orange, and soft pink. The warm light stretched across the land, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a gentle glow.
"Eva!" I heard Jasmine shouts.
I exhaled, getting up from the bench.
Can they not let me have a break. My feet are aching from standing for so many hours preparing a feast.
I open the door and step inside, Jasmine is already standing in front of me frowning.
"Where the hell where you?"
I pointed toward the door.
Her jaw ticked as she glared at me. "I asked you to prepare dinner, have you done it?"
I nod.
"Set the table," she ordered, turning toward the stairs. "Our guests should be arriving any moment from now."
Guests? What guests is she talking about? I wandered as I watch her trot up the stairs.
We never have guests over in fact we never did. I wonder who's coming over.
As I finished lay the table, the door bell rings. My feet move forward to answer the door but Jasmine appears standing near the door, adjusting her dress that's barely covering her body.
"Make yourself invisible," she sneeres. "I don't want you prancing around and embarrassing me. Once the guests leave only then you will come out, understand?" she ask as she
"You scare people," she adds bluntly. "Just disappear for a while."
My chest tightens slightly.
Disappear.
I'm good at that too.
I nod slowly.
Jasmine is already fixing the table again, adjusting the placement of the glasses like everything has to be perfect.
I grab my small jacket from the hook by the door and slip outside quietly.
The evening air is cooler now, brushing gently against my face.
The backyard is small and uneven, patches of dry grass growing between hard dirt. A broken wooden bench sits near the old fence.
I walk over and sit down carefully and wrap my arms loosely around myself and stare at the fading sky.