Silence too much ((Sydney))

[sisi]

Sicilia felt the weight of it all. The silence that filled the small apartment filled every piece of her being and she almost couldn't breath. Her chest felt pressure, her head ached, and her eyes were so dry they itched. Why couldn't she cry? Everything was horrible. Amber, her best friend, had to leave because Ethan had been shot. God, why couldn't Sisi have gone to be with her? Amber darn near loved him. It must have been traumatizing for her to hear that he was dead. Sicilia sighed, shifting her weight in the chair as she sat at the dining room table. The screams that had been her only company for the past six months were void. Somehow, Sicilia knew that she would rather hear her grandmother's pitiful shrieks than the dreadful silence that engulfed the family.

Vesta, Sicilia's mother, sighed and stood from the table, unable to bear the full weight of what had happened. Sicilia looked up at her mother's tear stricken face, her eyes full of love and smiled sadly when her mother took her hand and squeezed slightly. There need not be any words between the two, for Sicilia understood what her mother was going through. Madame Bissell had become something of a mother to her, just as she had been like a grandmother and tutor to Sicilia. They were closer than close. Madame Bissell had cared for Vesta when she was nearly starved, homeless, and pregnant. There was no mistaking who had been her guardians. Bob and his wife were nothing short than saviors to Vesta and she loved them, more so than her real family. They had kicked her out, shut her out of their lives, and left Vesta to live on the streets of Rome, looking for a salvation. So she hopped a ship, not knowing where. Captain Bissell had found her, stowed away in the cargo hold and fed her and clothed her, telling her in the little Italian that he knew that he would help her.

Vesta didn't know it, but she agreed to more than a place to stay. She agreed to a home full of love and understanding. Not only did Madame Bissell know Italian, but she taught Vesta how to speak English and let her work in the small cafe in Hogsmeade, which they lived over. It was the happiest home Vesta had known. The family was peaceful until Margary Bissell came down with Alzheimer's Disease. They had to watch her slowly lose her mind and soon couldn't even speak or walk. She screamed horrible things in foreign words. Only Sicilia could understand her grandmother, for the old woman had taught her five languages before she got sick. It was hard for her to listen to her grandmother's screams of pain and despair.

Sicilia watched as her mother left the room, sniffling once again. Her heart dropped as she turned back to the table, staring at her food with dull eyes. Bob, who usually sat at his normal seat at the end of the table, reading the Daily Prophet and smoking a pipe. The ex-ship captain was a kindly old man, who was quick to help anyone in need, but now that Margary had passed, he was seldom in his seat, but in his room. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but she was polite enough to leave him be. The silence was so thick that she couldn't even think. Her lungs tried to breath in air, but it was no use. She gasped and stood, placing a hand on her heart and trying to breath. Panic rose and she found herself running out of the apartment, forgetting her cloak in the process.

The cold air hit her like a wall and she gasped for air yet again, only it stung as the air made it's way to her lungs. The cold seeped through her painfully thin robes and she ran. Refusing to turn around and go back to the hell hole she's called home for so long, she sprinted toward the Three Broomsticks. It was always warm there and she knew there was a nice bottle of Butterbeer waiting for her.

Entering the pub, she panted from the running and the cold. Sitting down at her favorite table beside the fire place, she nodded at Madame Rosmerta, who instantly came with a butterbeer. As Sicilia looked at the bottle, the liquid turning as she played with it, she felt the weight of everything suddenly push down on her. She thought she had witnessed what it was like to feel loss already, but suddenly she knew what it was really like. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and, despite her attempts at keeping them from falling, they did so. It seemed like wave after wave of despair were coming over her. She felt her body shake and she put her hands to her face, trying to cover her sadness from the rest of the bar.

[Sydney Rawson H6]

(( I hope you don't mind me staging them as friends. But, coming into this situation would have been extremely odd for Syd to do if she did not know Sicilia before. ))

The day was breaking as a dull white overcast swept the sky. Light snow flakes fell on the ground dancing the the blowing, blistering wind. However, Sydney could not feel the full effects of the weather. She strode the streets of Hogsmeade quite on edge due to a run in she had with someone in the art store. She was looking at some priceless art, where someone barged and and pushed her into a sculpture which she in turn, fell into and ripped a painting as well. It was one of the most embarrassing moments she endured in a long time. On the ground of the store, the boy who started the whole commotion didn't seem to care too much that she would now have to pay for two priceless works of art, making her not have enough money to buy her family holiday presents. She wasn't going home this Holiday to try to ween herself off of her family. Her father granted her wishes in letting her travel, alone, this summer. Growing up with such a close family like the Rawson's, it would be difficult to go on her own without missing them all. So, Christmas break was the first trial for her, not to go home and stay at Hogwarts. She wanted to fit her sister and brothers with the fines gifts so she could make them smile so much, she could sense the happiness all the way back at the castle. However, now Syd was broke. She had to pay for the painting, and is going to give the store owner payments each week to pay off the sculptor. When Sydney first walked into Hogsmeade she was in one of the best moods, however now that changed. Sickening how holiday cheer can be wrecked in a moments time.

She understood her family did not desire things for holiday presents, they would much rather Syd be home with them. But, if she sent presents, she felt that maybe just maybe they would forget that she was at the castle, and not miss her as much. If they missed her, she would miss them, easy as that. But now instead of getting her family presents, her parents will have to send her money every week to pay off the priceless work of art that they will never get to see. Sydney was just furious, all the boy did was ask if she was okay. No, she wasn't. She was knelt on the ground with a bleeding cut in her forehead that he did not even care to recognize. If the two changed places, Sydney would have paid for the mess since she was the one who was at fault for the cause. Sydney clenched her orange pea coat closer to her body as she mumbled to herself, "But not everyone is a like you Sydney. Not everyone cares." she shook her head lightly at the words she spoke that seemed to be an old favorite quote from her grandmother. Her grandmother always knew the right things to say, and seemed to be incredibly noble. She was relaxed, content with everything around her; even if it seemed like a hell, and wise way beyond her years. Sydney always hoped to grow up to be half the woman her grandmother was. But first, she needed to learn to control her temper. Maybe it was the stinging pain of her fresh cut over her right eye, maybe it was the soon to be bruise on her chin and knees that was bothering her. Nevertheless, Syd took in a breath of the cold air and exhaled with a soft reply to her grandmother's lesson, "I know." And with that exhale, Syd let go of her tension to the boy. It didn't matter that he didn't help with paying, it didn't matter she took it half heartedly when he offered to help her up. Maybe he truly did want to help her up, but she was too blinded by embarrassment to see he was genuine. Maybe he was going to help her out with paying for the damage, but her demeanor made him re-think his standings and hold back because maybe, Sydney needed to be taught a lesson.

Sydney neared her destination, The Three Broomsticks. Late evening time was setting in, and most of the patrons were leaving the small town back to their homes for the night. However, Sydney had no intention of leaving to go back to the castle. She would walk the distance of the carriage was not applicable to her needs. Pushing in the door, a small bell rang she the door clicked past it. Glancing around the room, a few tables were cleaned and bare as Sydney strode to the far wall to a freshly tidied table. Taking off her orange coat, she placed it on the back of her chair. The warm fire filled the room with an ideal sense of temperature as it crackled. A few low voices were heard over the fireplace's relaxing natural chorus, as well as a few glassing banging together in the wash. In weaving her scarf, she placed it on top of her coat so it wouldn't be lost. Turning and sitting down she motioned to the barrista that she would like a single butterbeer. Seconds later, she showed up at her table with a smile and placed the glass of foaming goodness in front of her. "Thank you." Syd noted softly as she nodded in kindness as she took a sip of the drink. Setting down the glass she lifted her hand to her forehead to feel the cut. It wasn't so much large as it was deep. The stinging sensation had yet to cease, but once she got back to the castle, she would get the right medicine to end the pain. Leaning back in her chair, Syd glanced around the room with no rhyme or reason. A small sniffle caught her attention as her eyes met with a girl sitting by the fire. Watching for a moment, Syd recognized the girl who seemed a bit down. It was Sicilia Marie, a fellow student of Hogwarts, but of a different house and one year lower. By the actions of her, Syd knew that she was probably in the worst mood possible. Sydney only saw the side of her face before she put her head down, and noticed several tears that raced to escape her eye fall to the ground. They weren't the best of friends, but knew each other through people and passing. Sydney didn't care, she did not feel like anyone should be alone when times were that morbid, no matter the cause. In front of her, Syd grabbed a few napkins and her glass as she slowly crossed the room to Sicilia. Placing her glass of butterbeer on the table before Sicilia, she placed her hand on Sici's back to make the note that she was there. Words were not attainable. Syd didn't feel like she knew what to say, before she knew why she was crying. But, She didn't care that she wasn't aware of the source of reason, just the fact she was there, hopefully there to be used as a friendly face.

(( Also, I must apologize for the delay of post. I was on vacation, and just got around to sorting out my posts. But, I do hope your holiday was lovely! ))