Iridescent

Zoella walked alone on the side of the road like she did everyday, kicking pebbles along the gravel nearing her driveway. She lived about half a mile from school, but she enjoyed walking. She loved fresh air. She was always in contact with the Earth, it made her feel like no one or nothing else ever could. She wished she could stay outside forever, the wind delicately gliding across her rosy cheeks, and stirring up her mess of purple curls behind her. Unfortunately, her family was expecting her, so she had to go inside.
She sighed as she walked up her long driveway, meeting an average sized two story house. When she finally reached the front door, she opened it quietly and stepped inside, shutting it behind her.
“Zoella, is that you sweetie?” Her mother chimed from the kitchen, as the saccharine smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted throughout the air. ‘No, its a murderer.’ She thought to herself, scoffing and rolling her eyes. Ever since she stopped speaking, her mom babied her. And she couldn’t stand it. She wanted to scream ‘I’m fine! LEAVE ME ALONE!!’ in her face, but even if she did talk, that’s something she’d never do. So she dealt with it, ate all the cookies her mom made her, (but throwing them away when her back was turned) and gave her smiles, with the usual eye roll when she glanced away. It wasn’t that Zoella was a bratty kid, its just that she missed the way her mom used to be when she actually was a mom. Not an overbearing momma bear that seemed to constantly be walking on eggshells around her nutcase of a daughter. But there was a lot of things she missed, things that would never be the same, so she didn’t tend to dwell on those things.
Zoella sauntered into the kitchen, and sat on the stool at her bar countertop. Her mom glanced up at her with a wide grin, and she gave her a soft smile.
“Here, have a cookie.” She placed the entire plate of cookies in front of her, and poured a glass glass of milk. “How was school?” She questioned, placing the glass of milk next to the plate. Zoella picked up a cookie, took a small bite, and swallowed down with a gulp of milk. She shrugged, and pulled her lips into a tight frame. Her mom nodded, sitting upon the stool next to her. “You know, Zoe, I really miss hearing your sweet little voice.” She mumbled, giving her a subtle smile, and grabbing her hand. Zoella rolled her eyes slightly, and gave her mother an 'I've heard this about a million times and it's not gonna change a damn thing' glance. "I know, I know. I’m sorry. Its just, I know after everything,” Her mom began, only to be cut of by the sound of Zoella jumping out of her chair. She gave her mother a sharp glare, as if she was saying ‘Don’t.' And she was. She had no right to go poking and prodding at 'everything' that had happened to her, absolutely no right. She cut her eyes away from her, and began to walk to her room.
“Zoella please wait!” Her mom called out, but Zoella shut out the sound of her voice, along with the crack in it. Her mother was about to cry. She always did, so it didn’t phase Zoella as much as it used to. She darted up the stairs, and shot into her room. When she got there, she slammed the door shut, and fell onto her bed. Immediately, tears began to spill out of her eyes. She let out soft, muffled sobs in her pillow, as she clung to her tiny trembling frame. She always hated when her mother brought up the past, and when she cried too. Even though Zoella missed her old mom and hated the way she babied her, she really hated seeing her like this. Especially knowing it was all her fault. But throughout this all, she still kept silent. And even though it was killing her, she kept her mouth shut. Because what's the point of having a voice if you can't use it?