Audible Sound

By this point, I had long since gotten used to the deafening silence that fell flat against my ears.

The last real sound I heard was that unpleasant ringing. Not that of a phone or a doorbell, but a single long, piercing tone, like nothing I had ever heard before. Despite that, I could still understand the sounds around me. I could feel their chatter rumble the air. I could sense the excitement that lingered on the end of their words, and gather each dark shiver of the player's guitar. I knew their thoughts without them saying a word.

I could imagine every little sound. The rush of the train, the warble of the overhead speaker, even the soft squeak of the fabric cushion as I sat down. I clung to the memory of a past when words were heard and not watched. The sounds in my mind did nothing but help me cope. They could not be heard by another being, and I had no way of knowing how real they were.

I couldn't percieve sound, and I refused to produce sound. It was almost as if I didn't exist, until the moment I heard her voice pierce through the silence.