sorrow

Written for theatrical_muse

When Shy's father had been killed, the boy had stopped speaking. It was partly out of fear, partly out of shock, and partly out of a need to be left alone. If he could cut off communication with the outside world, he wouldn't have to be a part of it. He would never again have to worry about being faced with the kind of terror and grief to which he'd been subjected. Of course, his seven year-old brain wasn't quite developed enough to understand that's what he was doing. Nor was he able to understand that no matter what he did, the world would continue to be both a wonderful and a cruel place. He just knew that it would make him feel better if he didn't have to deal with the pain he knew was waiting out there to find him.

What the boy never knew was that his silence broke his mother's heart. Not only had she lost her husband - the man she'd loved more than anything or anyone in this world - but she felt as if she had lost her son, too. Had he known that, he might have started speaking sooner. The last thing the little boy wanted to do was hurt his mother. He simply never knew that he could do that without ever uttering a word.