The Inheritance of Silence

Dear Delyara, My family had a 'Fire' that wasn't made of flames, but of secrets. My father was a man of high standing in the community, but behind the front door, he was a ghost who used silence as a weapon. The 'Grind' was my mother’s life, spent trying to anticipate his moods so the house wouldn't go cold. We lived in a 'Storm' of 'What if he gets angry?' and 'Don't tell him about the money.' I grew up thinking that love was just a series of negotiations to avoid a fight. The 'Crossroads' hit when I got married and realized I was doing the exact same thing to my wife. I was using the same cold silence I hated. I had to set fire to my own ego. My Victoria was the day I sat down and told my wife every fear I had been hiding. I broke the family curse. The victory is that my children know the sound of my voice, and they never have to be afraid of my silence.