I have another story started. Read and tell me what you think, please?

There was an eerie silence coming from downstairs that could mean anything. Either somebody hit somebody or somebody left. Those were the only things that caused silence in my house. Why had mom left my bedroom door open? Did she want me to hear her and dad fighting, screaming and yelling? It seemed like an everyday and night thing ever since…my accident happened. But why would they argue about that? It’s not like it was their fault. I was the one who stopped the knife with my shoulder. But they blame themselves, saying, “…should have seen this coming” , “…knew he was trouble” , “…should have talked to her.” I had only been home from the hospital for three days and I already knew that the fighting over me was probably not gonna stop anytime soon. Shouldn’t they care about me or how I feel? Well, I don’t mean to sound self-centered, but I am their only daughter and they’re making me suffer. Like I wasn’t having enough pain from being stabbed with a four-inch pocket knife. The thought made me laugh for some reason and a sharp pain ran up my stomach to my heart and I soon remembered what the doctor had told me. I was going to be in pain for a while and while I had to stay here in bed watching day change to night out my bedroom window, my three brothers could do whatever they pleased and it made me jealous. But only a little bit, because if I wasn’t here on my bed cringing in pain, then that would mean that I wouldn’t have stepped in front of that knife, and then he would have been in the hospital. And I didn’t want that. Not after everything he’s done for me.Downstairs, the front door slammed and I could hear loud footsteps running through the house. The boys were home from school. Could they not find mom? Had she left? Had both my parents left? Those and many more thoughts ran through my mind, but once I heard a female voice talking, the thoughts went away. She sounded depressed and the boys probably wouldn’t notice, but even upstairs I could tell she wasn’t happy. But they didn’t have to hear World War III going on in our kitchen. Footsteps came up the stairs, getting louder the closer they came. I heard them coming down the hallway and they stopped in front of my door. “How you feeling?” The voice of Kyle, my same-age brother, filled the room. I hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer, didn’t he know that I wasn‘t up to talking? He walked over to the bed and looked down at me. I had blankets up to my shoulders, tucked under my arms. I tried to force my hand into a thumbs up, but it ended up looking like I was trying to shoot him. He chuckled and nodded. From this angle, he looked a lot older than seventeen. I had never noticed it before. He looked me all over, bent over, and kissed my forehead. “Love you,” he said with a small frown on his face. I had never seen Kyle so unhappy looking before, he was usually so… different. But he shouldn’t be sad because of what happened to me! It wasn’t his fault either! The only person who should feel bad in this house is me, for putting everybody in this situation, which could have easily been prevented. As he walked out of my room, my mother walked in with a large-looking police officer. He was at least two to three inches taller than Kyle, who was somewhere around six-two. The man had a mustache slightly wider than Hitler’s, a shiny, bald head, and his hand on the gun in his belt. Like he would need to use it here. My mother walked up to my bed and wiped her hand across my forehead, wiping the hair out of my eyes. “Honey, this is Sergeant Fauth. He’s just here to see the damage done and if your feeling up to it, he’d like to ask you some questions. Can you talk?” She looked at me with concerned eyes. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth. “ I’m not sure,” came out in a scratchy, almost there voice. I cleared my throat and tried again. This time it came out clearer. “Maybe… yeah.” My mom smiled, “Good,” she said then backed off as Sergeant Mustache moved forward. “Hello again, Tara. It’s nice to see you again. You probably know why I decided to take your case. Well, since we already have been here before. But that’s not the only reason why your…situation intrigued me.” The way he said it, it made shivers run up my spine, which ultimately led to pain. But he didn’t notice. He went on, “I’m gonna want all the details this time. Don’t want to be like last time, now do we?” I shook my head, scared to know what he was going to ask. “That boy. What’s his name?” He took out a notepad and flipped through pages. “Aahh, yes You know Mr. Spear.” The sound of his name made me jump. How long had it been and it still made me do that? He gave me one of those you-should-trust-me-but-I’ll-kill-you-la… smiles. That made me feel real good. “Aha, so you do. I think that the only way to answer my questions, is to start right from the beginning. If that’s ok with you.” From the beginning? Oh, this was going to take a while. I told him to grab a chair and I cleared my throat one last time,