"Talking comes by nature, silence from wisdom." I can't relate to the vast majority of most of the Proverbs I find, but this one speaks to me. As ironic as that sounds.

The air is quiet as I walk out of my front door tonight. Behind me, my mother yells at my brother and my brother screams back as he threatens to kill himself. Unfortunately, this isn't very new to me. He is yet another product of my mother's neglect. I feel bad for him but there is simply nothing I can do.

There have been too many times I have sat with him on the floor after one of his episodes, with his large, lanky body in my arms, as the silent tears roll down my cheek and splash onto his face. Sometimes this makes him giggle, he seems to like it when the salty water splashes on his cheek. Other times he wipes the tears off of my face and kisses my chin, where the last tear resided, as he apologizes. He knows how upset it makes me when he suffers the pain my mother created, but nonetheless, the next night we return to the same suicidal episodes. There is nothing I can do to help him and there'll never be anything I could say that would ease his never ending pain. So I try not to put myself in the situation where I am forced to live out the nightmare with him.

Just thinking about how he hurts makes a tear escape my eyes. I shake my head and continue to walk down the sidewalk in front of my house. It's relieving to be able to escape for a while, even if I'm only exposing myself to more pain.

I start jogging at a steady pace until I reach the rundown park in the middle of our even more rundown neighborhood. It's not much, but it's something. On nights like this I like to go over to the rusty old swings that always seem to be eerily swinging, and sit. To my far side is a house similar to mine, with one single light on in the upstairs and one single figure sitting, head in hands. Sometimes it's easy to imagine what he or she is doing, I'd like to think that they are simply dozing off while reading, or something related to that. Unfortunately, the look of the simple action seems all too familiar, and instantly, the scenarios start to run through my head. Depression? That illness seems very common nowadays. Cancer? That would surely be something to be miserable about. A breakup? I wouldn't know much of relationships but I've seen in my mother how horrible they can make some feel. Has he or she been abused? That would be quite unfortunate and painful; I know how that experience feels.

I remember missing multiple days of school in a row because my mother's boyfriend had "accidentally" spilled boiling water on my hand while I was doing my homework. Or I remember my mother taking me on a special shopping spree so I could get long-sleeved shirts to cover up the bruises her new love interest had left me. One time she even excused her boyfriend for breaking my fingers as he smashed them in his grand piano when I was playing and singing.

I used to sing quite frequently actually, I think I was pretty good, that was before my mother's most recent boyfriend got to me though. The night rings clear as a bell in my mind, as if it was yesterday. His chubby hands covered my mouth as he told me not to talk and restrained me. He then took all of my dignity and my voice.

I shake my head, I don't like to think about it much. It's in the past. Life moves to fast to dwell on little things like that. I guess sitting here wondering what the figure in the window is doing would also qualify as dwelling on small things, so it's time to leave.

I guess I'll wander around until I find another figure, in another world, and ponder about what they are living with. I seem to do that alot. I can't do much about my life while I'm living in silence, but thinking about what others are doing in theirs intrigues me. I like to think that they are living in the complete happiness and peace that I never experienced. But I'm realistic, I know the pain that exists, I've lived it. I've seen my mother live it and put others through it. She put me through it and made me who I am today. She's the one who allowed Him to take away my words. Maybe one day I'll be able to get my voice back, but for now I prefer to live in silence.