1 Chapter 1

The girl made of song and sorrow woke up like she would any other day: wishing she could just stay in bed and disappear. Of course, this wish never came true.

She sits up in bed to the dull gray walls of her room. She did not ask her parents to paint her room a vibrant color like most girls her age, no. She simply asked for gray, because she thought that was the color of her soul. As I am the only one that can see her soul, I can tell you this is not true. Her soul is made of an array of bright and beautiful colors, she just can't tell.

She does not wake up every morning to the sound of her parents calling her downstairs for breakfast, or her clothes laid out for her. She gets ready for the day all on her own, a day she assumes will be just as miserable as the day before. As of now these assumptions have not been wrong. She dresses in her usual black attire, packs her backpack and goes downstairs.

Like any other morning, she sees her mother and father on opposite sides of the living room both ready the same issue of the newspaper. It surprises her that they haven't started fighting yet. Her parents have not been happy for years, but they still live together only for financial reasons. Her mother is a Mexican immigrant who came to the United States in search of a better life. Her father is an American businessman. They found each other, fell in love, and got married.

After two years of marriage they gave birth to the girl made of song and sorrow, and they named her Calliope. Her father was and still is a lover of Greek mythology, her mother was indifferent and did not care whether the name was Mexican or not. It was an uncommon name for an uncommon soul.

"Good morning." Calliope said to her parents as she walked into the kitchen. They didn't respond, and she didn't expect them to. Her parents only speak to her when necessary, like when they need the trash taken out or when they want the dishes washed. She receives no attention or affection from her mom and dad.

Calliope's parents weren't always cold and angry with each other. She never found out what happened between them. She just remember her parents being happy and loving one day, and the complete opposite the next day. Calliope just assumes that she was too young and naive to be aware of her parents' bitterness.

So, everyday since her parents have become emotionless and distant, Calliope has taken it upon herself to take care of herself. It has been six years now, and I have seen her become more mature and independent than any girl her age is supposed to be. No child deserves to have to raise themselves. You would think her parents know better than to take out their frustrations on her, but they truly don't.

In the kitchen, she grabs an apple for breakfast then begins to head for the door. She passes her parents again. "See you after school." she tells them. Again, no reply. Her mother and father don't even bother to look up from their newspapers. Calliope speaks to them every single morning, and every single morning they continue to ignore their daughter. As much as this angers me, I have never seen a reaction from Calliope. It's like being ignored has made her numb. I can't think of another way of coping with that sorrow.

Being ignored is only going to continue at school, and she knows this. Calliope thinks of how she will remain silent, just like any other day, because this is another average day. She believes that no one wants to hear her.

Little does everyone know, including her parents, that the name Calliope means "beautiful voice." People would find that her voice and the things she has to say are indeed beautiful, if only anyone would take the time to listen.