Voiceless [ ON HOLD ]

Voiceless • Chapter Seven

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Dedicated to @EndlessDaydreaming because her story 5:48 is PERFECTION.

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Voiceless • Chapter Seven

 

I am awoken by the loud sound of footsteps.

   I hear someone say “Shh!” and a lot more whispers I can’t understand, which makes me care less than it did before. Although the creaking of the opening bedroom door made me open my eyes back up.

   “Look, you did wake her up.” My mother says right after she poked her head inside my room. “Are you feeling okay now?” She asks, making me think of myself and how I’m doing right now. So far, I don’t feel any throbbing in my head anymore. So I shake my head.

   My mother walks to me and touches my neck. She purses her lips before saying, “Well, at least you’re warmer than before.” She says. “You’re head’s not hurting anymore?” I nod. “Do you think you can come with us at the party now?”

   I look at the wall clock hanging on my bedroom and checked the time: Six-thirty. One and a half our left before the party starts. I nod at my mother, not sure if my choice is right or wrong.

   “Okay, I’ll tell Jay right away. He just left a few minutes ago, you know. That’s his personal record for being with you in a day.”

   I don’t answer. What will I answer, anyway? All I can do right now is nod and shake my head. There’s nothing else left to do. If I find the strength, maybe I can write notes, although I’m too lazy to write today.

   Now I feel annoyed at myself for not learning sign language when I was still young. Ugh.

   My mother looks at me for a few moments before saying, “Okay, I’ll just be downstairs and ask Trisha to pick a dress for you. Here, go and get your temperature to be sure how sick you still are.” My mother gives me the automatic thermometer from one of my desk drawers. I take it and watch her walk outside before I start taking my body temperature.

A few seconds later, Trisha comes walking happily inside my bedroom, immediately making a beeline for my closet and opening it freely like it was hers.

   What are you doing? I ask, fishing out my phone from my pocket and showing my text to my older sister.

   “I’m picking a dress for you to wear, stupid.” She replies. “Since you don’t want to buy a new dress for the party.”

   I was SICK. I defend. Trisha turns her head to look at me for a moment, rolls her eyes, and goes back to dress hunting. I purse my lips and close my eyes, ignoring my sister’s almost-too-annoying attitude. I remember my temperature earlier: 37.2 C°. That’s nearly the minimum temperature of someone who’s ill. But when I told my mom, she told me I should go to the party, even if I don’t want to go anymore. I guess she’s just too shy to tell Jay’s family about the change of plans again.

   “Can you wear high heels?” Trisha asks. I shake my head. “Even just a few inches?”

   I exhale hard on my mouth, making it move weirdly, then nod. Fine.

   “Okay, then. So you’re going to wear this.” My older sister takes out a white dress that hung from my closet. I remember that dress: My older sister bought it for me once because she didn’t have anything to do. Mom told her that she can’t go shopping for clothes again because her closet is so full with garments. But even so, Trisha got an idea and asked for my size.