Mute (Completed)

Chapter One

The world is a loud place that will never shut the hell up. Think about it. Somewhere in the world, someone is screaming. Somewhere else, somebody's crying about the dead. Even if every person in the world froze and stood completely still, the wind would whistle through the trees and the birds would quietly chirp. 

There will never be such thing as a truly quiet day, unless of course, the North Korean government invents a bomb that makes the earth explode. But, until that day there won't be.

I hear things louder than you do. You are a normal person, with working eyes, average hearing, and you can speak. If you are the select few who cannot, I nod respectfully to you. But for you average people, you take the loud earth for granted.

 You scream above the noise, trying to make your voice be heard over the yells of the other people of the world. You try your best to be noticed, even though you know that you are utterly and completely normal. That nobody really cares that much about your problems, and they are much more focused on their own, just as average, problems. You're lucky. Trust me.

I wish that I was average. That sounds so arrogant, I know. But I wish that I could scream. I wish that eyes would pass over me, instead of staring as if I am a zoo animal. I wish I could be heard. I wish I could tell my own mother that I love her. The truth is, I can't. I am not normal. And it's a curse.

I will just go out and say it. I cannot speak. Not even a little. Doctors call it "speech impaired" but the rest of the world calls it "mute". Such a disgusting word, mute. It takes all the emotion out of something that ruins lives; just as it ruined mine. 

I used to have a voice. I look back at those days, and I start to cry. I took such advantage of my beautiful voice. I would laugh and make fun it, just as everyone does. 

Then one day, I had an accident. I was riding my bike when a drunk driver turned the corner, veered off of the road and smashed into me.

I flew over my handlebars and landed on my neck. Glass shards from the smashed windshield went right into my throat. Smooth like butter.

The doctors told me I might never speak again. I had a tracheotomy so that I could breathe, and I had to go to therapy for months to re-learn how to swallow and breathe properly. My throat eventually healed, and I was able to breathe easily. But my voice? The doctors shrugged and told me they did the best they could. Handed me a sign language leaflet and told me to live my life. But it's hard to do that when the living can speak. 

It's like a nightmare. You know the one. There's a monster coming at you and you try to scream for help, but no noise comes out. That's what it was like, what it still is like. But it's real for me. I'm living a nightmare and there is no such thing as waking up.

                                                                Author's Note:   

                                  Hey guys! I'm Liv, and welcome to my book! 

   Thank you for sharing this experience with me, and I hope you're as excited as I am to see where this story goes!