The Silent Girl

She thought she breathed for other people, that the air in her lungs was never her own. Life was a gift given to her on the condition that she must give it back. She played in her room and whispered to her dolls and teddy bears in her free time, and then stood by the kitchen table and sat still at the playground bench when they needed her. She sacrificed her time for those who needed it, yet never heard a “good morning” of her own. She sacrificed her feelings so that they would feel better- no need to worry about her, no need to fuss when she had to help them first. She stayed so quiet that they thought she was always that way. Her silence was sweet, nothing more and nothing less. They never asked her why. They just did with her what they could, and her ears swallowed their challenges and anger.

            But what she could never see, amongst the brambles and thorns she pushed back with bare hands and tears, was that she was loved.

            She could never know that she made the hills breathe and the flowers dance in the still and sweltering summer or that she inspired the sun to come see her even when it was cold. She never knew that the other children told their parents that she was their friend and that she listened to them and made them feel loved. She never knew that they cared for her and asked each other why they never spoke. She never knew that they were afraid too, that they didn’t know how to give to her the love she had given to them.

            And so she stayed in a dream world with blue stars and sleeping bears where she never needed to ask if they knew, because in her world only softness lived and quietness reigned. The gate to this world was firmly shut, to the little girl’s salvation and destruction, for she would never know how much they wished to see it.