2: Silent Sorrows

I despise this woman, I swear, side-eyeing her as she scolded my poor grandmother. Ms. Reynold, my grandmother's boss, clearly lacked empathy. Grandmother was always laborious—scrubbing floors, preparing breakfast, cleaning toilets—enduring Ms. Reynolds' furious shrieks.

Then, Ms. Reynolds casually acts nonchalantly, patting me and saying, "Such a beautiful young girl, you don't get your looks from...your grandmother." That was the last straw; I had enough. As she patted my head, I bit her hand, making sure all my teeth chewed on her hand. "Girl! I had my nails done yesterday!" Ms. Reynold shrieked, "Hernandez, your grandchild is a beast!"

Grandmother bolted to the scene, gloves still soapy. "Take this wild beast and get out!" she scoffed. It was splendid to see grandmother not working for such a woman.

Nevertheless, Grandmother thought otherwise. On the way home, Grandmother could not even glance at me.

On the settee, Grandmother sat with a portrait in her grasp. Her lips quivered each time she glanced at the portrait of her and her daughter. "Evelyn, your daughter reminds me of you," she muttered, "I would do anything just to see yuh face again." It was eleven o'clock at night, and I knew I should have been in bed, but how could I when all that echoed was my grandmother wailing?

After a few minutes of silence, I was drifting off to sleep, but like a radio antenna, I picked up these exact words, "This is the first year without the family reunion." Family reunion? I paced about my room as thoughts began washing across my mind. If I brought my mother and the entire family back, this would surely bring joy to my grandmother and enable bonding time.

Would Mother ever wish to meet with me? After all, my existence was bothersome to her, but I must make grandmother beam, whether my mother desired it or not. So I patiently waited for Grandmother to become drowsy and kissed her on her cheek when she did. Immediately, I stuffed her delicious tuna sandwiches, a bottle of water, and cherry blossom-scented perfume into my bag.

Unfortunately, when I stumbled upon my grandmother's large wooden door, it was my way out, but it was locked. My hopes and dreams felt like they were being poured out until I remembered my hair was full of bobby pins that held up my hair, so I used them to unlock the door. The darkness roared over me as I shivered in antsiness. Imagining grandmother's face pushed me through her large wooden door. I glanced back and whispered, "Farewell, Grandmother Hernandez."

I never thought the silence could be so deafening, and the darkness could be so bright. Here I am, all alone, yearning for the whispers of home. I must not fret; I am not a coward. I am Amara. Whoever dares challenge me must be a fool in disguise, yearning for their demise. Nothing comes before family; nothing at all. Pushing through shadows that wish I could have been six feet under, I find myself isolated. Unsure of what to do, I ponder whether I should surrender and give up on this daunting mission.

Should I risk the beam on my grandmother's face, a beam worth millions? Grief and fury pierce through my heart, creating a strong desire to give up. Until, unexpectedly, I found a nearby shelter. The door is slightly ajar, and despite the eerie feeling that seems to call out my name, I cannot resist the pull. The shabby shelter, or what I thought could have been one, looms before me. It appeared to be abandoned, so I chose to spend the night there without hesitation.

Cockroaches slither across the floor, causing me to gag. The thought of staying here for the night, with the door slightly ajar, troubles me. Who knows if someone lives here, and when they might return?

I decide to turn around and make my way out, but the door slams before my face, plunging me into pitch darkness. My complexion drains as someone's hand touches my shoulder. Is this the end for me? Amara Hernandez? Certainly not; I must remember who I am. What would my mother, who despises me, think when she realizes her daughter, with so much to live for, is gone due to her foolish behavior? Who enters a mysterious shelter, especially in the middle of the night? Perhaps I have a death wish. I close my eyes tightly, awaiting what seems to be my imminent demise. Hopefully, my grandmother and family can carry on the reunion without me. Am I dead yet?

"Hey, um... we didn't mean to make you cry, lassie," a hoarse voice croaks. I look up to see a tall boy with clear-framed glasses. My face turns rose red, and I immediately look away. Not only did I enter an odd building, but I also cried in front of a guy I did not even know. He breaks the silence, saying, "Sasha loves playing pranks on people... I'm sorry." He then yells, "Yuh is a chupidee awa! Not only did yuh play another prank, but yuh made an innocent girl cry!" The other boy, hidden in the darkness, appears. He's an attractive boy with ebony black, disheveled hair, about two inches shorter than the first boy. I noticed a hint of mischief in his eyes that sparkled, giving him an irresistibly playful aura.

Did someone yank my soul straight out of my chest? I was too stunned even to murmur a word. Just as I braced myself for the impending embrace of death, a revelation struck like lightning; it was Sasha, the mischief-maker, orchestrating another one of his ludicrous pranks. My silence was met with Sasha's feigning concern, his eyes betraying the laughter he was choking back. "Say...What's a young gyal like you doing out this hour?" Sasha inquired.

Two strangers, a lubricious prank unfolding, and my senses were confused. Their motives were cloaked by the darkness, pressuring me to flee. I have no clue what their intentions would be towards me. There was one thing; an escape plan was deeply in need.

Yet the dawn has yet to arise, and the idea of facing this hazardous journey alone sent shivers down my spine. At last, I took a huge breath and was about to respond...only to hear Sasha's booming voice, "Don't swallow us!" he roared. My eyes began to twitch; I was unsure how I was going to manage with them, but I had to find a way. After all, somewhere in my journey, the jaws of death were patiently waiting for me.

"The real question is why are both of you out this hour inside such a shelter?" I asked. I expected Sasha to respond with a hearty chuckle as he always seemed to be joyous, but I was proved wrong; he wiped away a tear and let the silence do all the talking. "So, um, Sasha's friend, is he alright?" I begged to know what was going on.

At first, he hesitated but then responded, "Call me Trivan; Sasha is having a bit of... issues."

I was slightly taken aback; it was quite obvious both of them had issues of their own. What if they are just like me? What if we could manage to get along? My eyes beamed up with delight; not only would I reunite my family, but they could be on this journey with me. Trivan began patting Sasha on his back; I did not realize that Sasha would take the question so harshly.

"Hey, boys!" I exclaimed. They both looked up at me a bit puzzled. "How would you like to follow me on my journey?" I could see it in their eyes that they were now intrigued.

"You know we never got your name," Sasha giggled as he raced out of the eerie shelter. "The name's Amara," I responded, grinning ear to ear.

Maybe this journey was not going to be a pain in the neck after all. Perhaps this is just the beginning of blossoming bonds.