My Beast

1

I missed when I had peace and quiet. Being an only child, I was used to the never-ending silence in my house. At a young age, silence became my companion, something I could count on, even amidst the chaos that would later ensue as I grew older.

My parents worked long hours. I never understood what their actual jobs entailed, too young to understand what the word ‘corporate’ even meant. My parents, on the other hand, were the opposite of silent. It first started as business calls that would permeate the walls of our four-story house, heard even through the walls of their offices. The quick hellos and goodbyes over breakfast as my mother quickly slid a bowl of cereal down the counter at me, and the hushed goodnights both my parents whispered in the darkness of my bedroom as they stood over me, thinking I was asleep.

I never slept until they came home which was quite detrimental for a seven-year-old, given that they usually came home at about three or four in the morning. Sleeping at my desk was common in school. Despite the calls home about my lack of attentiveness, my parents simply never had the time to discipline me. They had no siblings and consequently, I had no cousins to hang out with.

The first time the silence of my world broke was when my parents started screaming at each other. I was about thirteen years old, going through the well-known angst and never-ending annoyance at everything.

I never bothered to understand why they fought, too busy with being concerned about appearing cool and emotionless. Like somehow showing emotion suddenly made me very uncool. Call it the emo phase if you want to.

The silence was intermittent during those years of arguing. My parents barely saw each other for the yelling to continue endlessly. However, they saw each other enough for the divorce.

This leads me to my current predicament. My silence was interrupted once again with the screeching of some kid in the airplane. Without having to look behind me, where the crying was coming from, I knew that whatever parent held the kid was annoyed more than anyone else in this airplane. Sympathizing with them, I tried to look less pissed. Tried.

“Ma’am would you mind opening the window as we will be arriving to our destination soon?”

I startled, not noticing the flight attendant coming down the aisle. I nodded and dutifully pulled up the shutter of the window, swallowing my hiss as my eyes squinted against the bright sunlight.

Adjusting my eyes to the light, I peered down towards my destination. Australia. It looked like America from way up high, the same sprawling buildings, shining waters, and what not. I sighed at tightened my seat belt as we began to land, furiously chewing my piece of gum to prevent my ears from blocking, I always hated that feeling.

As we finished landing, I made quick work taking out my luggage and going through the whole security ordeal. The hot and humid air of Australia already getting to me.

Hailing a taxi from the airport, I rattled off the address to the driver and silently watched the scenery pass me by. My father had generously bought me a house to live in, as a part of the divorce settlement, he had joint custody. Maybe this extravagant purchase was his way of apologizing. Of course, It was typical of him to splurge money on me instead of just saying sorry outright.

My driver didn’t need inclined to talk, his weather-wrinkled face just staring straight ahead. Perfect, I wasn’t in the mood for small talk anyway.

We gradually approached a forest-like area, the houses looking less and less suburban. The forest was a nice sight, trees reaching as high as my head could look up. Perhaps there were some cute critters there.

We quickly reached the house that I would be staying in. It was nothing extravagant. Just three bedrooms, and one story. The walls were a faded pastel yellow, the paint chipping off in some corners. It wasn’t terrible.

Paying the driver and taking my luggage out of the trunk, I stared at what would be the beginning of my new life.

Oh, joy.