Nothing. Not a Sound

I breathed heavily, biting my lip, desperately not looking up or at anything other than the piece of paper that I clasped between my shaking hands. I read the speech in front of me over and over again, desperate to drum it into my mind so that I wouldn’t forget the paragraphs I had written on To Kill A Mockingbird.

English was always horrible, especially when we had to give oral presentations. It was so nerve wrecking I couldn’t even giggle at the joke Sean made whenever Mrs Thorpe made when ‘oral’ was uttered though her tight lips. I couldn’t even smile, I felt so stupid. Why couldn’t I just go up there, read it out and sit down again? It wasn’t hard. Just a couple of hundred words about a book.

I wasn’t even alone, I was in a group, we were all in the same boat and it wasn’t like I was going to be stood there on my own. Why did I feel so horrible then? Why did my guts churn and tongue feel dry?

There was some dull applause as Gavin’s group floated down from the front of the class and flopped at their desks. See, they did it fine! Gavin was fine! Even Matthew was fine! And he’s nervous about everything.

“Alright then, thank you boys. Group….4 I think.”

Oh, I knew it. I just knew she’d call out my group. My heart sank right down to the pit of my stomach, as if the gulp I had forced down my throat had pushed it from its natural place. Sean leapt from his seat and bounded to the front, tossing aside the scrappy bit of paper his, obviously, memorised notes rested on. I wish I could be like that…just…confident about it. Two other boys from our class, guys we didn’t really talk to, followed and I hung at the back, left to be the only one clinging to my neat cursive script as if my life depended on it.

It was like 30 people became 30,000. The lights seemed brighter and everything was quiet, all of them waiting. I pressed my back into the white board and glared purposefully at the cupboard near the back of the room, intent on not making eye contact with anyone.

Deep breaths, Rhys, c’mon. You can do this. In and out, everything will be fine, just calm down. You know what you’re on about and I doubt they’re even listening, just…chill. Five minutes and it’ll be over.

Sean was already well into his part of the speech, reeling it straight from memory and making dramatic little jokes and actually keeping his audience listening as he spoke about a book he didn’t even like. How does he do it?

“…explains how the two gradually start to become more independent as they grow up.”

He was finished. His eyes glazed over at me, a small smile curling on his lips, encouraging me to just read what was in front of me. Slowly, I looked at my page. Ready to read.

Sean knew I hated this, that every word I tried to stab out was torture, but none the less he wanted me to try. All eyes were on me. Every boy and girl in the class knows Rhys Lewis can’t read out loud. That I stutter and fire words out at them, stumbling over each and every one, that I notice and go red but just can’t stop the stream of uneasy syllables tumbling from my lips until I’m so breathless I shake. Then I finish. It’s over. They laugh. I smile in that horrified way and it’s all forgotten by tomorrow.

This was different. Nothing was coming this time. I opened my mouth three or four times. Pushing my tongue into the back of my throat to stimulate some sort of speech…only to fail. No sound. None. Not even a whisper. Muttered giggles and flickers of whispers curled into my ears, taunting me as I continued the charade of looking like a goldfish. It just…wasn’t happening. The words blurred on the paper. The clock ticked louder, faster, time was racing as I juddered where I stood.

I could feel all of their eyes on me, everyone in the class staring in confusion and awe at what the hell I was doing. My hands shook while the sweat that leaked from my palms caused my grip to lessen. This wasn’t happening.

“Rhys…” the boy next to me hissed. “Just read it.”

He sounded pissed off. That made it worst. I felt horrible. I was letting everyone down. Our group would fail. I’d fail. JUST SAY SOMETHING!

Nothing.

Sean took the paper from my hands and rolled his eyes slightly while he read what I wrote, the words I was meant to speak. The script that was meant to get me an A. But no, that was not going to happen.

I stood there, stunned, silent, staring at the cupboard again in some vain hope that they’d all stop looking at me if I didn’t look at them. Even with Sean speaking, none of them listened; they were far too interested in the display of nuttiness I’d just provided them with.

The five or so minutes as the rest of our groups talks dragged on though my ears, perfectly spoken, hardly a word missed or tripped. It was just me. Isolated. Unable to even bear to make a sound. It felt like I was going to throw up. Like all the over digested words were swimming inside of me, wanting to break out and scream though my mouth, but it just wouldn’t happen. Shortness of breath, lack of ability, who knew, it just wasn’t happening.

__

“Nice one, Lewis!” I heard a boy jeer, smacking me on the back as he strode past and shoved me into the wall.

The lesson was over. It was break time. I was free from the lesson, but not from the students.

“What was that all about, freak?” A girl added, turning her head to ask me, a sneer on her lips as she followed the boy from before.

I opened my mouth, hoping an insult would flick out and shut them up, or at least get them to fuck off. Again, nothing.

This was fucked. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t understand what had happened, at first it just seemed like I froze…but that was ages ago. I’d calmed down now, I just couldn’t…say anything.

I quickly strode to the canteen, ignoring any other calls of my name, sympathetic or otherwise, until I reached the usual table at the back and flopped down in a seat, immediately curling up and covering my head with my hands. I could hear laughing around me. I must look pathetic.

Chairs around me scrapped and I looked up over the sleeve of my jumper to see Sean and Aled take seats either side of me. Aled’s hand immediately started to stroke my back and he leant into me.

“Rhys, what’s wrong?” his small impish voice asked worriedly. I shook my head and sat up, forcing a smile and rubbing my eyes quickly.

Sean looked a little confused; I was never quiet around Aled. We had been dating for about six months; he was in the year below me and had apparently had a crush on me for years before I even really noticed him. Sean was one of his best friends, having lived next door to him since he was born and he hung around him, hence the three of us hung around each other and in the end, we just clicked.

Aled was amazing. He was bouncy and giggly, sweet and loving, just someone I couldn’t resist. His smile was what got me most, the way he just grinned at me, it always made everything feel a bit better. Even now, it was helping, the worried little flick of his lips cheered me up, made me feel a bit less of a fuck up inside. I opened my mouth to try and explain what happened, about the speech.

Nothing. Not a sound.

Even with feeling better, I couldn’t say anything.

Nothing, not a peep, would leave my throat. I resorted to trying to force words out of my stomach…my lungs, I don’t know, just out but it was futile. As I gagged, clutching my stomach and leaning over the table I must have looked like I was about to throw up.

Aled stood up quickly and grabbed my arm, trying to haul me out the seat as I shook my head furiously. Sean panicked and tried to push me up only for me to let my hand fly out and knock him off me, head still moving back and forth quickly over my shoulders.

“What?! Rhys! What the hell is wrong with you? We’re trying to help!” Aled hissed, looking upset. Dismayed. Rejected.

I kept shaking my head, and grabbed his arm. He sighed and pulled away from me, not understanding what I was trying to do. “Stop fucking around. It’s not funny!” He spat, grabbing his bag and storming away from the table.

“Good job,” Sean sighed angrily, getting up and following his friend, leaving me sat there. Stuck.

__

I’d never felt so isolated. I’d spent the rest of the day in silence, having to nod at my name in the register, only for teachers to throw angry looks at me and telling me to speak up. I know that I could do something about this, maybe write a note to them saying I couldn’t physically speak…but I didn’t see the point. They’d send me home. Where I’d sit on my own for hours and hours, stuck in my own silence. So I went on with the day, working well, but on my own, then walked home, on my own.

Normally I’d have someone. Gavin maybe, just someone to trot down the road with and have a laugh about the day but I guessed word had spread that I was being an insensitive prick and ignoring everyone.

I spent the evening alone, as usual, both of my parents work late, my dad often going off on business trips so it’s often just me and sometimes my brother if he bother’s coming home. Otherwise he’s with his girlfriend. Speaking of, or not as the case may be, I should really sort out mine.

I was so frustrated, why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t I scribble down the problem to him, or Sean who could tell him?! Why am I thinking of this now rather than then? I’m so damn slow. I didn’t even get how this started! I was just…nervous…I didn’t want to speak and now I couldn’t? Twisted logic.

After forcing some food down my, apparently still functional, throat I went upstairs and plonked myself in front of the computer. Now, at least I could still type. Within minutes, as quick as the old machine could handle, I was on MSN, staring at my contacts list.

Sign on, Aled. Come on. Please.

I just wanted to sort it out, to tell him it was all ok, and that I really hadn’t meant to hurt him or anything. This all seemed to be coming from nothing, like everyone was making a big deal out of nothing. I think he might have overreacted, he could have just thought I was being a little weird, told me I was stupid and not ran off. He’s sensitive though, and I’m hardly able to control myself, I’m not gonna start on him.

It was about two more hours before his icon popped up in the corner of my screen and I clicked on it. Two hours I’d waited. Man, I was desperate.

Then, I typed. I typed everything I couldn’t speak, letting my fingers tap out the most jumbled explanation that was possible to man just to try and explain to him that I wasn’t a total asshole and I didn’t mean to act like I didn’t need him.

You cant speak? Came his reply.

Not a word. I’ve tried, a lot; it just won’t….come out. That’s why it looked like I was puking. I was trying to force something out.

…fuck. That’s weird! Wow. I feel like a prick now. I shouldn’t have ran off…

No. It’s fine. You were probably confused.

Yeah. I was. Fuck. Shit. You should probably… go to a doctor.

And what? I can’t really ‘tell’ them the problem.

I will. Or something. You should tell your parents. Just write it down. 

I sighed, a small exhale of breath. This seemed so odd, so drastic. Maybe I’d be ok in the morning. It was probably just a stress thing that I was making out of nothing, it probably happened quite a bit and I was paranoid.

Surely I’d be able to speak soon.

__

Three days later and not a word had passed my lips. My hands had been busy typing and scrawling out the story, over and over. One’s to my teachers, my parents, my doctor, just anyone that needed to know. My mum flipped out, thinking I had throat cancer. My dad shrugged it off and said I was attention seeking. Either way I was shipped off to the hospital.

A few exams followed. I had lights shined down my mouth, my throat was x-rayed, weird sweets were used to dye my trachea so any tissue scaring showed up. Nothing. I sat in one seat, my mother at my side as the doctor stared down at his notes, analysing the results of Rhys David Lewis, the boy that couldn’t talk.

“Ok. There is nothing here to suggest Rhys has any problems with his lungs, throat or anything to do with his speaking. Nothing is strained or scarred….he just…can’t speak.”

“Like…his voice box is blown?” My mum asked quietly.

“Possibly. We can’t check because he can’t make any sound, usually we can check for…blow outs by asking the patient to hum or something and check the vibrations. But Rhys can’t seem to even ‘ahhh’ for me. Nothing. Not a sound.”

“…What does this mean then?! He can’t speak, ever?!”

“Who knows? This could be a case of selective muteism. Which is normally caused by a stressful event inhibiting a child, normally, who is unable to speak under pressure. You mentioned you had a speech to give, Rhys?”

I nodded.

“And you were scared?”

I nodded again.

“Ok, well that would be rather normal, maybe not for someone of your age but it happens. But its been three days since then, and you haven’t been able to speak since?”

I shook my head.

The words that followed sent my mother into a stream of tears. I might never be able to talk again, or, I could wake up in the morning and be fine. No one knew, only time would tell, and all that crap. I was getting bored of this.

I had to listen to everyone, talking at me, about me, around me, but I couldn’t say anything. I could laugh along with jokes other than a weird contained giggle that came out of my nose rather than my mouth. No sounds other than breathing.

Could I cough? What if I couldn’t, and I tried, and my head exploded?

I suppose I’d find out soon enough.

I typed out the news to Aled on MSN, telling him about the doctors and how I could be totally mute for the rest of my life or the rest of the evening. That if my voice did return it could be all fractured and hoarse, or totally normal. That it was just…one of those things. Time depending I might get a machine that would talk for me, but until then I had a note book and a marker, having to live with notes and gestures at people for a while.

He promised to stick by me, that he didn’t need to hear me to love me. I was still Rhys, just quieter. I wish that could be true. I knew it couldn’t. Aled couldn’t last with someone that couldn’t say they loved him, he couldn’t wait the time it took for me to script every reply to him. It just wouldn’t work.

I’d hold onto him though. I’d make sure I was as good as I could be until he got bored, unfulfilled with my endless silence and moved on. He told me that none of the silences between us were awkward because he knew I’d be talking if I could.

Everything seemed so much louder now. Every noise that others could make reverberated though my ears, they didn’t get how great it was, that they could scream and shout and cry and laugh…and I couldn’t.

All because I didn’t want to speak.

Now...I couldn't.

Nothing. Not a Sound.