Silent Angel or Learn To Be Lonely

I wasn't always silent. There was a time when I was loud, and to the brim with happiness and warmth. A time when songs coursed through my mouth, and echoed around the room. A time when my mother was alive.

I never met my father, nor did I think much about him. To me, he wasn't real. And he didn't matter either. So, for now, let's put him aside.

I didn't have any sisters or brothers. My mother raised me on her own, with her job as a baker paying for our meals. She was a shy woman, talking only when she needed to. However, at home, she was kind to me. She would tuck me in every night, singing sweat lullabies that seemed to be made by angels.

Her voice...I can't go into exact detail on how beautiful, soothing, and perfect it was. Still, to this day, I can hear it melting my heart, and healing my soul. Every majestic note, every meaningful word. How I wished I could sing like that.

So, I practiced. I tried to mimic her, and the way she sounded. I didn't get close. My young voice couldn't hit the lower or higher notes, but I strained for them. I kept going and going, reaching and reaching. Finnaly I'd hit one, and joy surged through me. Then, I would miss it, and sadness would fill me. This was my daily life, in my second floor bedroom, singing away the hours.

One day, I got up the urge to show my mother my voice.

"You want to sing to me?" She asked. I blushed, embarrassment rising to my face. What had I been thinking?!

"Y-Yes." I stammered.

She smiled, encouragingly, "I'd love to hear." She stared at me, waiting patiently for me to start.

"Could you close your eyes, Mama?" I asked.

"Of course, darling." I sighed, nervously, then took in a deep breath.

"Child of the wilderness,

Born into emptiness,

Learn to be lonely,

Learn to find your way in darkness.

Who will be there for you;

Comfort and care for you?

Learn to be lonely.

Learn to be your one companion.

Never dreamed out in the world

There are arms to hold you

You've always known your heart was on its own

So laugh in your loneliness

Child of the wilderness

Learn to be lonely

Learn how to love life that is lived alone

Learn to be lonely

Life can be lived, life can be loved alone.." I finished. By the middle, she had opened her eyes, staring in shock.

"Such a beautiful voice..." She muttered. I blinked at her, and she stared at me.

"Really?" I breathed. She nodded.

"Darling," She took my hands in hers, "I think you were born to be an opera singer." She smiled at me, and my eyes lit up with happiness.

"You think?!"

"I do! And now, I must find you lessons."

"Lessons?" I asked.

"To perfect your voice. In a while, you'll be an amazing singer!" She exclaimed. I hugged her in delight.

"However, right now, my sweet, I must prepare dinner." I let go of her, and watched at she started cutting vegetables. She was always so knowledgable, and graceful. She seemed like a queen or a goddess. She looked so beautiful, with her big blue eyes, and her long black hair. I had inherited her eyes and hair, and her voice, but I wanted to be even more like her. And, while watching her take some bread out of a cupboard, I got an idea. Perhaps if she had made a different meal that night, one without bread, I wouldn't have become a mute. But, I'll never know.

The next day, when she went off to work early in the morning, I followed silently behind her, so she wouldn't know. I wasn't supposed to come with her, but I wanted to watch her bake the bread at the bakery. I wanted to see her even more. I was only eight, and not the smartest girl in the world. What would any other person have done?

"Marie! Get the rolls in the oven!" A baker yelled to her. She nodded, and quickly put on her apron. I watched through the window, careful not to be seen.

I watched all day, stopping once to run back home and eat something at my normal lunch time. But, I hurried back, and watched her. She was even perfect covered in flour and sweat.

Later in the evening, she received her pay, and started to walk home. It was November, and it was already dark a few minutes after she left. She turned a corner, and from my spot many feet back, I watch a man in a coat start to follow her.

He seemed strange. He followed, getting closer and closer. Then, he disappeared completely. My mother turned a corner, and I was right behind when I heard the muffled yell.

" 'here are you goin'?!" The man asked, pressing her to a wall. She tried to yell, but a knife was pressed to her throat, and he was terrifying her.

"Mother!" I murmured, watching from the dark. "Somebody!" I yelled.

"You little bitch!" He started to come towards me, ignoring my mother.

"Somebody help!" I screamed. A light came on in a nearby house. He ran for me with the knife, and I let out a high pitch screech. He stopped momentarily, as my mother punched him in he back of his head.

Being a shy woman, she couldn't hurt somebody if she wanted to, and that full hearted try was still weak. He turned around, and in anger, held the knife to her again.

"DON'T!" I screamed. He turned and smirked at me, a smirk I would never forget. Then, he slit her throat.

By this time, people had come out, and so he took her money, and ran away. She was dyeing, and in a few moments, she was cold and gone. I sat there, on the freezing ground, rocking myself back and forth.

"Somebody...Somebody help...Somebody..Some..body-y..." I whispered, as a man came and picked me up, in a blanket, and carried me inside a nearby house.

Tears slid silently down my face, as I whispered softer and softer, stopping altogether. I was put inside a guest room of sorts, and a little boy and his mother looked at me. The man closed the door, and I stared at the dark ceiling.

"Darling, was that woman your mother?" The mother asked me. I looked at her, and softly nodded. It was morning, and everyone thought I was still in shock, so I wasn't speaking. However, I didn't talk for days, then weeks, then months, and then I started pretending I was a mute.

Whenever I'd meet a new person, I tapped my throat twice, and gave a sad smile. They understood at once.

I started to notice how people were. Their personalities, and their flaws, all became clearer to me. Some people thought I was creepy, because I never talked, and would appear seemingly out of thin air.

The woman and the man were married, and their son was younger than me, by about three years. I remember him once asking me why I was so quiet. His mother scolded him, and made him apologize.

I lived with them; they had plenty enough room. I never got very close to them. They were earth-bound people, and I was always off in my mind, imagining I had my mother's voice, and singing an opera.