I Swear I Heard Your Voice

She didn't even speak to me. No words spoken through her pale pink lips. This threw my brain into a fit. Most normal people would throw a quick "Thank you". But that is what helped me realize this girl wasn't normal, she was beautiful. From the curves of her tall frame to the sea-foam green eyes that brought my thoughts to a haze. I could only imagine the beauty that would come along with her voice.

I shuffled my way against the frozen pavement until I reached the familiar doorway of my workplace. Rummaging through my coat pockets I pulled out a key-ring of various keys. The metallic of a peculiar frozen key stung my fingers as I pushed it into the padlock. With the helping strength of my shoulder, the door pushed open. I reached into the warm darkness and flicked up the light switch, illuminating the room almost instantly.

Packed shelves covered three walls of the dark red painted room. Held within these shelves were various Cd's and vinyls. This was home to me. I spent hours and hours of my days standing behind the chipped counter.

This wasn't my dream of course. My dream was to scream. My small band attracted little followers. But my god we tried and we hoped. We hoped that with one song we could change a life. Or even better, our lives.

Warm air quickly filled the room as I felt the tingle of my skin defrosting. With a pull of my black coat my tattooed arms were revealed and I wasn't embarrassed. My name tag waited on the counter to be pinned to my shirt. I ignored it to deal with my other errands.

A flick of a switch and the large open sign in the window sprung to life. Pushing a button on a remote music filled the silence. I let out a sigh of relief.

Sitting next to my name tag was a large box filled with new vinyls. I began flicking threw them.

Ding!

The chime next to the door rang. Jumping, startled, I turn to face my first customer. My brother Tom trudged through the doors. In one hand was another hand, much smaller in size.

It was the hand of a small girl. Her eyes were the equivalent of the blue-green that he obtained. Locks of shoulder length blonde hair hung next to her eyes. Her age was seven but her IQ reached eleven. The only problem was this young girl didn't speak. She couldn't speak. This was Tom's daughter Chelsea. She followed behind him as he made his way to the counter I stood at.

"Hello Oliver." Tom smiled widely. "Don't be rude Chels. Tell uncle Oli hi."

The young girl looked up at me with wide brilliant eyes. Her small hand shook out of her father’s before they were wrapped around my legs. Pearls of white revealed a tiny perfect smile that made my heart flutter.

"Hello Chelsea." I smirked down at the youngster.

When Chelsea was born the doctors told her parents her vocal cords developed wrong in the womb. The doctor predicted she'd die months after her birth. But here she is. Therefore Chelsea would never be able to speak, and be understood.

"She's been wanting to see you all week." Tom assured. He knew the feeling I got when the young girl wanted to see me. It made my frown turn upside down, so to speak. I saw her rarely due to Tom and I having insane work schedules.

"Oh I missed you." The youngster was light so I lifted her off her feet. "Did you miss me?" I asked her.

Chelsea scratched the top of her little head acting as if she was in deep thought. Her mouth pursed together. She shrugged.

I pressed my forehead against hers and exhaled a small laugh. "Don't you lie to me Missy." I put the child down and she ran across the store, looking at the bottom shelves as if she was searching for something. My eyes watched the little girl closely.

"Oli, I need your help." Glancing back to Tom his eyes were drooped from lack of sleep. "I have a doctor’s appointment and I need you to watch Chelsea."

My gaze shot back to the little girl who had found what she was looking for and sat in an empty area of the bottom shelf. Her small body fitting perfectly between the vinyls. In her tiny hands she clutched "The Beatles: Greatest Hits".

"Sure, I'll watch her." I smiled whole-heartedly. I swear I saw a sparkle pop from Tom's eye as he patted my shoulder.

"Thanks Oli. Really." Tom looked around the room. Finally noticing Chelsea's resting place, he knelt down. The little girl was reading the track-list on the back of her Cd. "Chels." Tom called quietly.

The girl lifted her head. Pulling her mind away from the Cd.

"I'm going." Tom assured her before standing up straight again. The girl held up her hand signing "I love you" at her father.

A smirk spread across his pale colored lips. He held up the same sign as he hurried out the front door.

I watched him out until he was no more in the thick frosted windows. Looking down to my feet I noticed Chelsea was staring at me from across the room. Her eyes shining like the sky against the florescence of the lights.

Chuckling I turned back to the box of new records. As I began naming the bands and singers in my head, the door chimed.

Ding!

Quickly I grabbed my name tag in a hurry to place it on my shirt. Instead I skid my middle finger against the pin, cutting a straight line. "Fuck." I groaned to myself. It began to bleed almost instantly.

I heard the clicking of heels against the tile. My mind scattered instantly at the familiar sound. It's not her. It can't be her. But as I turned around to face the customer my heart began beating like a humming bird.

My gaze started from the bottom to the top. I spotted black heels rising the girl at least four inches. Her long and tan legs were bare up until her black and white striped skirt that rose to her waist. A white tank top tucked into the skirt covered her chest. A name tag was pinned to the fabric that clothed her right breast. I couldn't make out any letters but an H due to her coat dangling in its way. Chestnut colored hair draped over her shoulders.

It wasn't until I was lost in sea-foam that I realized it was her.

A small squeak escaped my throat. It was quickly followed by a rough cough. "Hello." I called out.