At Least It's Quiet

Tyler walked out of his room, fresh out of a much needed after school nap. He heard the garage door rise and the front door open, which meant his parents must be home from work and his brother home from baseball. They rarely have nights as a family anymore, so Tyler was excited for tonight when they would finally be able to sit down and just eat dinner all together again. 

The boy often forgot why they didn’t spend much time together anymore. When he was young, they would go to the mall or watch movies or play outside or build toys. They did so much together and now it seems like all they ever do is so little. But some nights, Tyler would remember. Like an unsuspecting slap to the face, Tyler was reminded why they don’t spend too much time together anymore. 

And as he progressed further from his room, the switch in the atmosphere almost sent him back. But he smelled food that must have been picked up and brought home, and Tyler was starving. So he continued through the hall and into where the family room and kitchen connected, ever careful not to step on the landmine of emotional triggers that would set off one of the members of his family. 

His father sat in the chair you always found him in, with his brother on the other side of the room. The TV was on and they were glued to it, watching some sports program. It was what they bonded over, and Tyler tried joining in sometimes, but the snickers from his brother and the disappointed eyes his father gave when he got some “simple fact” wrong often made him avoid the pair during these nights altogether. 

His mother was at the counter, behind some bags of fast food she brought home. She was looking at her phone, reading glasses on, and seemed to be answering texts and emails.

“Thanks for grabbing this.” Tyler said, as he grabbed a bag and looked for his signature order. It wasn’t hard as the others had already grabbed theirs, so he just grabbed the bag with obvious items inside. But his dad wasn’t eating. Strange.

His mom didn’t really acknowledge him and just responded with an “Of course honey.” She was obviously busy, so he didn’t mind. 

They ate in silence for a while. How long, Tyler had no idea, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. What if he was the only one who wanted to talk? It was too risky, and everyone seemed to be content with the unpeaceful silence that flooded the room.

His mom ended up being the one to break the silence as she glanced up from her phone and noticed that her husband sat in his chair with no food. “Are you not going to eat?” She asked, a little too late. 

“No.” He responded.

“Did they forget your order again?”

“Yeah, those teenagers don’t know shit about what they’re doing.”

“We can try calling them.”

He kept his eyes on the match. “No point.”

“We could still try.”

“No. I’m fine”

The silence barged its way back in. Tyler’s brother, Jake, was fiddling with a ball, bouncing it up and down off the floor nervously. 

“Stop bouncing that ball on the ground, please.” His father said, without so much as a glance.

“Sorry,” He said, and proceeded to just toss the ball in between his hands as he continued to sit across the room from his father. 

“I said stop it with that ball.” He said, not shouting, but firmly. That made it scarier, and he knew it too. Jake nervously set the ball down in a cup holder and just leaned forward, clasping his hands so hard his fingertips were white as if the blood from them had vanished. 

Tyler looked away from the scene happening in front of the TV and focused on his food. Just a couple more bites then he could return to his room for the night. 

His mom started dialing a number into the phone. Tyler hadn’t even noticed her doing this until the ringing of a placed call reverberated throughout the still house. His fathers eyes shifted from the TV and crossed Tyler until he found the source of the noise. Tyler felt the irritated eyes of his father as if it was a threatening wasp flying by. It wasn’t after you, but one wrong move, and it would have been.

The feeling of the room continued to grow heavier as his father stopped caring about being frightening and only cared about his emotions being communicated. And the most common emotion he seemed to feel was now anger.

“I told you, we don’t have to do that! It’s useless. There’s no point, " he shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

The anger in his voice made them all wince back.

So Tyler stopped time.

No one knew he had this ability. How could he tell anyone without it getting around and the government taking him away and using him for God only knows what.

To Tyler though, that doesn’t sound half bad right now.

But he just couldn’t handle the shouting anymore. It’s not everyday, but it’s frequent enough to make it feel like it is. 

He has no idea how their days were, and sometimes you can’t help but bring your day home with you. But the people waiting for you when you get home are supposed to carry that day with you, not have it be used against them.

Tyler doesn’t live in the adult world. Reaching the end of his middle school career however, he can feel himself get closer to it with each passing day. And if this is what is waiting for him, then he wants no part of it.

He looked around at the frozen scene. Jake's eyes were on the ground now, not even watching the game he so dearly loved. His father was mid shout, turned around in his chair, and Tyler wasn't even sure if he was looking at his wife. Maybe he wasn’t even shouting at her, but instead, just was shouting at the world that surrounded him. 

His mother was frozen in place with the phone to her ear. You can see the fright that found itself forming across her face, before she quickly suppressed that expression so as to not let her kids know she does fear the man in front of them. 

Tyler looked back to his food. Time being frozen meant he couldn’t move, lest someone notice his abnormal speed and put the pieces together. Their perception was that time was still moving at its normal pace, but to him it was stopped, and only he knew. 

So he just sat there, still and unmoving. At least it was quiet.

The thing was, Tyler knew that other people had it worse. Nothing ever turned towards physical violence, at least not since they were kids. His family could still laugh and smile some days, albeit spread few and far between the ones like today, and the days where they just didn’t see each other at all.

But knowing other people had it worse made his heart pour over with guilt. He felt awful because of how sad he was despite knowing it could be worse, and that made him even sadder. 

Unfreezing time was not what Tyler wanted to do. He wanted to stay here forever, in this silence. For even the laughter reminded him of how quickly it now faded. But he knew he had to go back. He had to unfreeze time, and then he could return to the sanctity his bed provided. 

So Tyler unfroze time, and aside from the TV, it was still silent. His father turned back towards the only source of noise, and his mother ended the call and just set her phone down. Jake still looked at the floor, unflinching out of fear he would be targeted again. 

And Tyler once again moved his gaze back to his dinner. He wasn’t hungry anymore, so instead, he had an idea. His father, upset about his lack of dinner and now upset at everything, Tyler thought he might be able to help. He picked up the bag of food and looked towards his father. 

“Hey dad,” He started, a little unsure, “I’m not that hungry anymore. You can have the rest of mine if you want.”

His dad just shook his head and waved his hand, as if saying hunger no longer held him. Tyler knew he would say no. His pride as a man was too tough to break, even for the simple acknowledgement that he was feeling what every being felt every day. But yet, Tyler still hoped that maybe, just maybe, his son could soften that pride just a little bit.

But instead, he was only offered a head shake and a wave. If the sound of their voices was removed from the scene, someone could mistake that reaction his father gave as nothing more than a disagreement with the referee on the TV. Not even a hint of specification that it was a son offering to help his father. 

So he just picked up the bag and put it in the fridge, able to be eaten later by anyone who wished. And with that, Tyler was done trying for the night. It was one attempt, but sometimes all it takes is one try to know that no progress will be made on this night.

When Tyler arrived in his room, he laid across his bed. Not crying, but just exhausted and unsure of what to do now. But at least the silence in his room was by choice. 

Later in the night, Tyler grew hungry once again, and walked out of his room to go find something to eat. By this time in the night, everyone was asleep or in their own rooms, so Tyler could move freely without attracting the gaze of other people. As he entered the kitchen, he remembered the food from a couple hours ago and headed towards the fridge.

He opened the door and the bright lights illuminated him and a bit of the surrounding kitchen area, almost as if the sun was trapped in ice itself. But when he looked in the fridge, his food was gone.

Tyler wasn’t sure on who might’ve eaten it, but he hoped it was his father, taking his son's hand in the offer of assistance when he wasn’t even looking.

But with his food now missing, Tyler just grabbed an apple and had that instead. He stepped over to the kitchen window and looked at the sky above.

He remembered family camping trips on nights that looked like this, late night drives back home after an evening spent at a local event. All these memories now seemed so distant. Could Tyler really call these memories his own, if the people who acted in them now behaved like this?

But the boy knew that he couldn't blame them. How could he? Life does some crazy things and changes people in many ways, and they were a family, they don’t mean any harm. At least that’s what he hoped. He wouldn’t let himself think otherwise.