Answers in Silence

The room was silent and empty. Not a single sound permeated the silence of the guest bedroom that had never been used since the owners had bought the place.

Sun danced across the walls throughout the day and only the footsteps when the owners went up and down the stairs could even faintly be heard from inside. But birds, the wind and the leaves rustling on the nearby tree.

But today was no ordinary day.

The silence surely wouldn't last for long however since the owners were finally bringing their kids over from across the country to make this house their new home.

The thundering of feet could be heard coming up the stairs and down the hallway but the door never opened. The sounds of joy from the children were quite the ruckus but the room stayed silent.

After some time small timid footsteps approached the door. “This will be your room Estelle.” A deep male voice said, “This is your home now.”

“Go on,” a female voice encouraged her, “We haven't brought the furniture up yet but it was delivered last night so we can have the movers bring it up so you don't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Thank you.” a timid female voice said and there were footsteps leaving and going down the hall.

The door made no noise as it opened and the young lady who could only be about fifteen years old stood in the doorway. She was quite pretty with her long brown hair in a ponytail that was concealed by a brown hoodie that had the eyes and snout of a bear sewn onto the front. The light from the window caught her eyes and she squinted her deep brown eyes to see better.

She took a few steps in and looked around while fanning in front of her nose, must be the new room smell. She walked over and opened the window and a pleasant breeze blew through giving the room's air circulation.

Next she walked over to the closet and looked inside. She seemed to find a light switch in there because a second later a light illuminated the closet. After a moment the light turned off again and she walked away leaving the closet door open.

“Is this all mine?” the girl, Estelle whispered.

“Kids!” The male house owner yelled, “Come grab your bags and take them to your room!”

Estelle hurried to close the bedroom door while the horde of children ran down the stairs. Once they'd passed, she left, closing the door after her.

While she was gone another breeze blew through the window bringing with it a leaf from the tree outside. It didn't have the momentum to go any further in than the window sill.

The house was loud from then on. Gradually Estelle came in and out bringing three boxes and a duffel bag into the room. Then multiple men carried a wooden bed frame and a twin sized mattress up and into the room as well.

The room was no longer empty.

Estelle unpacked her clothes and sat on the bed. She moved positions every once in a while but didn't seem to feel like she could leave.

After a few hours, by sunlight, a woman came up and knocked on the door. “I got you some sheets and pillow cases. And you know your pillows are outside of your door right?” It was the same woman from earlier.

Estelle opened the door, thanked the woman, and brought the sheets and pillows inside. She put the sheets on first, walking around the bed to tuck in all the corners tightly. Then put the cases on the pillows and set them on the bed.

She walked over to the closet, grabbed a blanket from one of the boxes and then laid down on the bed leaving the light on. She didn't move until well into the night when she flipped over and didn't move till morning.

The room was silent.

Over the next few months more things were brought into the room; A small desk and chair, a bedside table and lamp, a mirror, a small bookshelf and a backpack for when she finally started school.

When she started school Estelle would bring papers home and would spend her time at her desk or in her bed. She only left the room for school and meal times. She seemed to be a very isolated young girl but sometimes she would talk to herself or to the room at large.

“I feel kind of crazy talking to myself.” She said one day, “But it's not like I have anyone else I could talk to.”

She never brought over friends or participated in party's that would sometimes happen in the backyard, no, she just sat in her desk chair or laid in her bed.

One day the owners, her father and stepmother, came to visit her. Estelle had lived in the house for four to five months.

“Estelle,” her father said, “We're concerned that you are depressed. We want you to go to a therapist and get some help.”

“Please?” her step-mother asked, “We really want you to get some help.”

“I'm fine.” Estelle mumbled, “I'm just adjusting to the house and school.”

“I don't think you're fine.” Her father replied, reaching for her hand “I think you need some help.”

“I'll think about it.” Estelle said, looking at the floor.

“Well that's all we can ask. Come on dear.” her step-mother sighed, and dragged her husband out of the room.

Estelle went back to bed without dinner that night.

The silence was deafening.

Over the next few months young Estelle grew more distant, talked to herself less and slept more. She still did her homework but she would try to hurry that up so that she could sleep.

Her body changed as she began to lose weight.  Her ribs became more predominant and the fat around her arms and thighs all but melted away. She started to get scratches too on her arms and legs, usually where people wouldn't see them.

Her parents tried several more times to get her to seek help and even brought meals to her, telling her younger siblings that she was sick. They weren't sure what to do with her, she wouldn't get help, and they didn't think they had the right to force her to get the help she needed.

One night Estelle woke up and began crying. She cried and cried for what seemed like hours until she fell asleep. This happened on and off for another month before she decided to stay awake.

Estelle wasn't sure how much more she could take. She'd been awake for two whole days and knew that she was out of options.

She sat on her bed cross legged and listened to the silence that the room had. She couldn't even hear the sounds that normally came from outside. She found the silence strangely comforting and felt an option form in her mind. After sitting in the dark and silence thinking quite clearly she knew what to do.

So she made her decision.

She left the room and came back with a large bucket, a knife, a towel, and a plastic tarp.

“The tarp will make it easier to clean up.” she whispered to herself, “I don't want to make it any harder on them than I already have.”

She laid the tarp down in a cleared out area and placed the bucket on top of it and sat at her desk. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to write.

“Dear caring parents,” she began, “I'm sorry for the hurt and inconvenience this will cause but I had to do it. I had no other choice.”

She paused thinking about how they had kept offering help. They had tried to give her a choice but she hadn't wanted to take it.

“I know I was thrust into your home without warning and I'm sorry that I became a burden to you. I honestly didn't want to be a burden and tried to keep to myself, and save you from the inconvenience of having to deal with me. Please know that I think this is the only way that I will find peace. And who knows maybe I'll be able to be with my mother again.” She sighed, “Love, Estelle.”

She placed her pen down next to the paper and stretched then removed her shirt. She tossed her shirt onto the bed, she had a tank top underneath. She didn't want to get blood on her shirt and have it get everywhere.

It will be easier this way she thought to herself, I'm making it easier on them.

Once she was ready she laid down on the tarp and grabbed her blanket off her bed, this would do for her final bout of sleep. She laid the blanket across herself, getting comfortable.

She unfolded the towel and kept it nearby for if things got messy and laid on her stomach with her left arm underneath her for a few minutes. When her arm was finally numb all the way up to the shoulder she knew she'd have to do it fast. She made sure that she had the knife nearby and rushed.

She turned her body, put her arm over the bucket, brought the sharp knife up and brought it across her wrist while applying pressure.

She couldn't feel it, partially because her arm was still numb but also from the emotional pain she was feeling. All the feelings that she had been feeling for over a year boiled up and she began to cry.

The blood flowed from her wrist that had a deep and wide cut right across it. She held her arm so that even if she passed out her arm would still stay in the bucket and the blood wouldn't get everywhere.

She felt the lack of sleep catching up to her since she hadn't slept and there was no pain. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Her breathing got shallower and shallower until she was barely breathing while the bucket filled up. It wouldn't take long, she would only have to lose a little under fifty percent of her blood. For how severe the wound was, that really wouldn't take long at all.

Finally she exhaled for the final time after losing more than forty percent of her blood into the five gallon bucket.

She was silent.

The room was silent.

Everything went to plan the next morning, except when they found a knife was missing but that was very minor when compared to getting 6 kids up, fed and off to school. After dropping the kids off at school and coming home Estelle's step-mother went to make sure that she had gone to school on her own.

When there was no answer to the knock at the door it opened and there was a shocked gasp followed by a scream, a rush to get her phone out, and check for a pulse.

There was none.

Men in two different uniforms came into the room, one was taking photographs and talking to the mother while the others were allowed to take away Estelle's body after all the photographs had been taken.

As Estelle had predicted the clean up was very easy. The blood had all gone into the bucket and the tarp made sure anything else was easily cleaned up.

The door did not open for almost a week after Estelle had vacated it. And the door would have remained closed if it weren't for the people who came to move all of Estelle's belongings and furniture out. Once everything had been taken out the mother sprayed something that left the room smelling fresh.

“I'll just use this for a guest bedroom.” She said softly as she closed the door.

The room was silent and empty, again.