The Silent Whisper

Chapter 1

Rewrite: 10/08/09

“Softly I whisper/

These words that no one will hear/

Begging for help/

Straining for life/

Can someone/

Will someone/

Please help me?/

Help me/

Get away/

Find a way/

Somehow I have to/

Find a way/

To breathe again.”

The students at Mission Preparatory School were used to the lone voice singing in the auditorium every lunch period. Some even once dreamed of meeting her and getting her autograph when they were younger. Now they all knew to stay away from her when she had her guitar out.

At eighteen Isabella Mansoni had lost more in life than many people at the age of thirty do. Two years earlier Isabella lost someone so precious to her that she had been living in a shell of who she used to be. People always said that when you have a twin it is literally as if you are two parts of one whole; they were right. The day that Isabella last her twin sister she stopped being happy and carefree. It’s almost as if she lost her soul that day.

Not only did Isabella lose her sister at sixteen years old, but she lost the one man that she would ever love too. There is just no way to bounce back from both of those tragic events when both of them happen at the same time.

“The night turns dark/

My mind can’t help/

But to turn back/

To the night/

The night when you/

Said goodbye/

I hear the silent whisper/

And it sounds like you/

Telling me/

Hold on for a little longer…”

Isabella’s fingers paused on the neck of her guitar as she took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. She hated singing, writing, or even talking about her sisters’ death, but in the not so funny way of life, singing was the only way she could get past the pain of missing her. The only way she could get past the guilt of knowing that she was alive while her sister was not.

Glancing down at the notebook that was laying open to a page with scribbles all over it, Isabella softly hummed a tune in her head as she tried to figure out a melody to fit the words. Her work of genius with music was abruptly interrupted however by the sound of the end of lunch bell. The only reason Isabella was still in school was because it was where her only friend was, and her mother didn’t want her to be alone. Thanks to the tutoring that had been demanded by the record label while on tour, Isabella actually already achieved enough credits to have graduated. It was a good thing for her though that she actually liked learning. Unless it was math.

"Math is stupid," she muttered with a groan. "I knew that I should have just said that I’ve already passed the math requirements. But no I just had to say whatever to be a smartass."

"Talking to yourself again? This is becoming a bad habit of yours,” came the laughing voice of Isabella's best friend, Trinity.

"Always; it's the only thing that keeps me sane," Isabella declared as she slid off of the stool and stored her guitar in the case and grabbed her both her backpack and guitar. "Since this sadistic school is torturing me with Pre-Calculus, let’s get going. I’m nearly jumping in excitement that I have two whole hours of this stuff.”

"Sarcasm doesn’t become you my friend. I just happen to find it hilarious that you are horrible at the one subject that I can fly by in," Trinity laughed with a shake of her head, her beautiful long blond hair falling over her shoulders as she did so. Trinity was one of those girls that was effortlessly beautiful and knew it, yet still knew how to spell obnoxious.

It always struck Isabella as funny when she saw pictures of them together; it was an odd sight to see them standing next to each other. You had Isabella who had long, wavy, black hair, a natural tan complexion that came from her Italian heritage, whom went around in ripped up pants, tank tops and t-shirts all the time with her ever present leather wristband and studded belts, and hardly ever wore more than a little bit of eye shadow and mascara. Then you had Trinity who was the polar opposite and was always wearing a skirt in spring and summer and had the most current in fashion jeans in fall and winter. Along with her lacy shirts and deep cut top of fashion shirts. Her blond hair was always straight and perfect, and she never walked out of the door without her makeup done to perfection. In fact, body and fashion wise the only thing that the girls had in common was that they were the exact same height at 5'2" and the same exact size.

But regardless of their differences, the two girls could not be more alike in mind. They had been as close as twins since they were in diapers - well, triplets counting Nicole, but Isabella tried not to think about that sort of stuff all that often. They knew every secret that there was to know, and had fought to the point of no return a few times, and to this day couldn't imagine what it would be like if the other wasn't there. In fact, having Trinity was the only thing that kept Isabella away from the edge of losing it all for the first year after her sisters’ death. At least she still had one of her sisters with her.

"You can't be good at everything," Isabella replied with a shrug as they made their way down the packed hallways. "Plus, I have no need of math. What the hell am I going to use it for? To count how many times I can square root a chord?"

"You're hopeless, Bella," Trinity said with a smile, her green eyes shining with laughter as she looked behind her at her best friend.

“I know,” was all that Isabella had time to say before they entered their Math class and took their normal seats away from each other, thanks to their psychotic teacher’s seating chart.

The second that the tardy bell rung, Mr. Whitman walked into the classroom, wearing his usual scowl, and demanded that all homework be passed to the front. Mr. Whitman liked to say that he demanded this so that none of his students would spend their time in class completing the homework assignment, but Isabella had a suspicion that he just liked to bark at people.

“Now, unfortunately, our lovely Board of Trustee’s have decided that you lot have had enough learning,” Mr. Whitman started as his beady black eyes narrowed at the thought. “And they have scheduled an assembly for you on the football field. So as soon as I do attendance, you will escort yourselves down there. Is that clear? There are to be no side trips, no cutting class and no canoodling in the hallways.”

Isabella snorted to keep from laughing. Who said “canoodling” any longer?

As soon as attendance was complete, it seemed as if someone yelled bomb, because everyone in the class was scrambling for the door, backpacks swinging up in the air, desks left behind in a less than perfect line.

By the time Isabella got to the door, Trinity was waiting for her with a grin on her face. “Lucky you,” she smiled. “You got out of Math. If only someone could do that for me in English, my life would be made!”

Isabella smiled and shook her head. “I don’t understand how you can hate English so much,” she confessed as they walked down the still empty halls. “You use it everyday.”

“Yes, but do I use proper English?” Trinity argued. “No. I use Trinity English. Completely different, so I’m told.”

Shaking her head, Isabella couldn’t help but think once again how lucky she was to have Trinity by her side. At least there was someone in this world who could keep her smiling and laughing. “So what’s this assembly about?” Isabella asked as they opened the doors leading out to the field.

“It’s some kind of surprise that my dad wouldn’t tell me about,” she shrugged. “But I think that it’s some kind of concert or something, because I saw speakers and equipment heading that way before lunch today.”

“I really hope that it’s not the school band again,” Isabella groaned. Their school had to have one of the worst bands known to history of school bands. You would think that with what the students’ parents pay to get their children into this school that it would be able to afford at least a CD track of a better band playing so that the poor kids who got suckered in could pretend to be playing good music. But no, instead the Dean liked to torture his students with the extremely bad music at every rally and school spirit day. It was inhumane really; one of these days a poor unsuspecting student is going to lose his hearing and then the school was going to be sued – it’s a problem.

“I don’t think so; most of them are out here.”

Isabella shrugged. She didn’t care what the assembly was. It got her out of Math, and that was all that mattered to her. Heading towards the front of the temporary stage that had been set up, Trinity and Isabella found seats right next to the stage like always. All of the kids seemed to migrate towards the back rows so that they could fool around. A few years ago Isabella and Trinity would have found themselves back there also, but after an incident where Isabella found a wad of gum stuck in her hair, she always found seats up in the front. Better safe than sorry. It took a good ten minutes for everyone to settle down before Dean McGlugg walked up onto the stage.

“Good Afternoon,” he greeted in his normal cheerful voice.

“I can’t believe he walked out of his house in those clothes,” Trinity muttered as she looked at him. “He looks like an overripe pumpkin.”

Isabella laughed as she looked up from her nails, which she was currently picking off the bright blue chipping color. It was true. No matter how nice Mr. McGlugg was, it couldn’t hide the fact that he was as round as a planet, shorter than a normal person, and had the most ghastly choice of clothing that any one could even deem possible to have. He liked to dress in colors that reminded people of food. Eggplant, pumpkin, watermelon, apples…the list goes on. It was actually kind of sad to see.

“Many of you are probably trying to figure out what you’re doing here today, aren’t you?” he laughed as he looked over the crowd. “Well, in consideration of mid-terms we decided that it was time for you guys to relax before crunch time was upon you. So after much consideration, we have contacted a band and persuaded them to come in to play for you guys. Enjoy your concert, and remember to turn in your slips for Winter Ball court by the end of the week!”

Isabella looked over at Trinity and frowned. “A band?” she asked, startled. “Should I be scared?”

“I have no clue,” was the only reply she had as Trinity was squinting at something that was just out of vision behind the curtain that surrounded the stage.

`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`

Dylan Christenson, known as D.C. to most, sat in one of the hard plastic chairs that seemed to always be the trademark of schools. You would think that with as much money as some schools made off of tuition, that they would be able to afford more comfortable chairs, but apparently it didn’t matter how much the school made; the chairs were meant to make your butt go numb. It had to be some kind of torture device.

“I wonder why no spoiled rich kid has never complained about these chairs,” he wondered as he shifted around, trying to get some feeling in his lower body.

“Dude!” someone yelped from behind D.C. causing him to sigh he turned around to look at what happened to his band mates this time. Nathan and Jacob had been cooped up in the bus for two days with each other and had started this all around prank war between the two of them. And this had to be another one of the results. At least they kept him and the other member of their band, Zach entertained with their antics for the past couple of days.

Watching as Nathan strutted through the curtain with a glare, D.C. couldn’t help but laugh. “What the hell happened to you man?” he asked.

“This – this, thing!” he growled as he pointed in his brothers’ direction. “Put purple hair dye in my shampoo, and now, I have purple hair!”

“Dude, you look so funny,” Jacob gasped as he was currently bent over laughing. “At least people can tell us apart now,” he choked out.

D.C. shook his head and laughed. Here you had this six foot tall ex-football player guy with skin that was almost as white as paper with bright purple hair- he looked like a science experiment gone horribly wrong.

“Okay guys,” Sam Brenton announced as he walked through the door and stopped dead at the sight of the drummer with purple hair. “What the hell did you do to your hair? If this is a publicity stunt, I have the right as your manager to know,” he demanded with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it!” Nathan protested his brown eyes narrowed in frustration. “I know that I look like an idiot, but that-“ he said with a finger pointed in his brothers’ direction. “Idiot decided that it was time that I get a different hair style.”

“Right,” Sam said in a distracted voice before he shook his head and looked over all of the band members that were present. “Where’s Zach?” he asked.

“Right here,” came the reply as the guy with the shaggy black hair, tan skin, and green eyes walked in.

“Right,” Sam repeated. “Grab your instruments; you’re on in five,” was all that he said before he rushed back out of the area muttering something about not getting paid enough to deal with these people.

D.C. stood up from his chair and dragged a hand through his messy brown hair, looking around for where the set up team put his guitar. Finding it in the corner by the stage he walked over to it. “Why are we playing at a high school anyways? I thought that we stopped doing this stuff three years ago when we finally made it somewhere,” he asked with a shake of his head, his voice raspy from the cigarettes that he was constantly smoking.

“It’s our last gig before we get two months off, who cares?” came Zach’s reply as he walked over and grabbed his bass guitar, which was right next to D.C.’s. Out of all of the guys, D.C. was the closest to Zach, both in age and mentality. They were actually the one’s who had started Disastrous Temptations, and were the most alike. They had met in elementary school when they literally fought over the monkey bars and who could hold on the longest, and have been friends ever since.

Nathan and Jacob were twins, so they obviously had their own bond going on, but sometimes, D.C. couldn’t help but think that without Zach he would probably either shoot one of the twins or himself. It’s not that he didn’t get along with the two, but they were always constantly bickering with each other or pulling prank wars that drove him crazy.

“True,” he agreed before they all headed for the stage, Nathan and Jacob finally stopped their arguing and were both now jumping around getting ready for the concert.

“Here we go,” Nathan yelled as he ran on stage to begin the insanity that was always a constant in their life.

“May God be with us…and may He keep us from being mobbed by a female again,” Zach laughed as he followed Jacob on stage.

“We don’t talk about that anymore,” D.C. yelled as he stepped on stage.

`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.

Isabella nearly screamed when she saw Disastrous Temptations walk onto the stage. “What in the hell?” she demanded as she looked over at Trinity with wide eyes. “Wh-Wha-no…”

Disastrous Temptations was at the top of the charts with their new song ‘Remember Me When You Say Goodbye’, and they had just ended their World Tour yesterday. Or, it seems today. And the lead singer also happened to be her ex-boyfriend.

Automatically, her eyes were drawn to Dylan or D.C. as they always were. He had that dangerous look about him that always seemed to captivate her. She had met him three years ago, and for a while they had been pretty good friends that had turned into so much more. Until life happened and she cut everything that had to deal with the music world from her life; including the only boy who had been able to capture her interest.

“Are you okay?” Trinity asked as she snapped her fingers in front of Isabella’s glazed eyes. “Do you need to go? Are you okay?”

“Why him?”

“What are you talking about?” Trinity asked, looking around.

“Why did they have to pick him to be here?”

“Oh…that.”

“Yeah,” Isabella repeated sadly. “That.”

“We can go hang out somewhere else if you want.”

“No we can’t. Teachers are by every exit. Isn’t it amazing that even after two years I can still feel the same way I did about him then? That just seeing him can make me breathless?” Isabella asked softly, her mind automatically going to the first day that she met Dylan. “Isn’t it sad that I still love him and he will never forgive me for what I’ve done to him?”

`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.

Authors Note:

So, after many months of a writing vacation I return…are you amazed? =-) I’m currently re-writing this story…I have about ¼ of it done already and it is way better this time around. I hope that you guys will read the new chapters when they come!

Happy Reading!

Lisa