Hush, Howl {2}
I abruptly stopped playing my flute and looked at the source of the rustle. My eyes scanned the bushes for anything that is moving, scrutinizing my surroundings closely. On the south-east of my location, the shaking of leaves caught my awareness.
I watched as the bushes shook. I was completely planted on my seat, thinking that maybe it’s some sort of wild animal. The fact that I cannot scream brought great panic to me. Since I cannot talk, I cursed my throat mentally for disabling me to produce any vocal sounds.My eyes widened as I anticipitaed what kind of animal would come out from behind the bushes.
Out from the bushes came out a chattering squirrel.
I heaved a sigh of relief and focused back on the work I was previously performing. I blew on the tone plate and pressed my fingers on the foot joint of my flute with coordination. I closed my eyes, feeling the music carry away all the current emotions I have. Sometimes, I can get myself lost in a certain melody.
I ended the tune with a soft note and reopened my eyes. I saw the golden rays of the sunlight streaming through the gaps between the leaves of the trees. Sighing, I stood up from my position and began to head back to the house. When I need refuge, I go here. Almost every day after school, I play on my usual spot. It eventually became a hobby, and missing that session is like a year without rain.
My feet took me back to my auntie’s house. I looked one last time at the forest behind me before twisting the knob and pulling the door open. I entered and the view of the living room came to sight. My eyes found Rosy, passed out on the couch with a bag of empty nachos beside her. She was snoring loudly, sounding like a pig and drooling.
I smiled, letting out a soundless laugh. Since I am mute, I cannot really produce any sounds using my vocal chords. Whether it'll be laughing, giggling, talking, singing and many more. I can sigh, but other than that, I cannot do much.
I shook my head. She is such a couch potato—sometimes. I ventured back to my room and placed the flute back in its case. I hid it securely in the drawer. After that, I started tidying up my room. I arranged the beddings, threw away the unnecessary trashes and sucked off the dust that accumulated on my carpet with a vacuum. And when I’m sure that everything in my room is neat and in order, I plopped down in front of my computer and accessed the wlan connection.
I clicked continuously and logged on to my account in wattpad. It is a community site full of writers and readers that are willing to spend a portion of their time submitting or publishing their stories online without any charges. If one would like, the user can only read stories and support the author just by clicking the vote button and giving out comments and reviews based on their reactions regarding the events of the story.
Reading is just one of my hobbies and when I found this site . . . I was actually exhilarated. I resumed reading one of my favorite stories, Silence. It was quite relating. But my situation is far different from the heroine.
When I finished reading her update—which was the last one, I felt myself bawling from the revelation. Her father was a bastard for doing such a horrible thing to her! No doubt she became mute. I, however, had myself in this situation because of the trauma on my parent’s accident.
Sighing, I shut the laptop down and jumped on top of my bed, grabbing my favorite book by the nightstand and flipping open the page. I clipped a bookmark in between the page I left so that I can easily find my way back.
I was almost finished reading ‘The Hollow by Jessica Verday’. It was a very good novel. And I liked very much reading something which involves a paranormal romance. Fantasy gets a little bit excitement in life. Reading, on the other hand, is one of my ways to escape the hell the real world provides. At least, in books, you can find yourself having a happy-ever-after-ending no matter how much difficult the situation is.
