Sam stared blankly at the mergin garden of blue and red flowers, the colors split where the neighbors property started. Her hair, swept over one shoulder, blew gently in front of her face. She listened to the subtle sound of swooshing leaves, and the occasional creak of the board she was perched upon. From her seat high up in the tree, she could see her parents room where they argued about what college she should go to, and her cats grace by the bird-fountain. The noise of anger, the noise of sorrow - or the lack of noise.
Across the street death metal bled out the neighbors' windows. What an annoying noise.
Behind Sam, her little brother grunted as he unloaded mom's groceries from her beat-up car. The noise of work. Sam's mind flashed back to her childhood uncalled, in all its joyful ease. Her giggles and laughter - the noise of happiness.
Everything has its own noise, she realized. Music is a noise, and music carries feeling. So even feelings have a noise.
A black car sped into the neighbors driveway. The sound of success, she thought, compared to the sputter of our Honda.
Jackson slammed the door of his car and spotted Sam. "Hey," he said with a smile and a wave.
"I can hear it now," she mumbled.
"Huh?" Jackson asked.
"There are so many noises, so it took me a while," she yelled to him. "But I can hear it now."
The sound of love.
***
Aww, sweet love.
Okay, so this scene is sappy and undeveloped. I got lazy. But whatever, at least Sam has finally realized her love for Jackson.
But Jackson probably thinks she's nuts.
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