INEFABBLE - Short Stories Collection #2

sounds

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

As a kid, I was asked this question often. I was sort of a dreamer back then. I thought I wanted to become an astronaut to see the stars up close. I thought of being a weather forecaster because I wanted to study more about meteorology, though that's not the term I would use to describe it. I used to love hearing the sound of this question because I was proud. I did have an answer to it after all.

I could've said all of those when I was asked that question.

Instead, I'd look up to who asked then beamed brightly at them and said, "I want to become a teacher!" in that cute and enthusiastic voice.

Looking at it now, it felt like a long time ago since I sounded that enthusiastic.

When I was in grade school, I loved the sound of people's praise. I was fond of how people would tell me the word "congratulations" everytime I would achieve something. It meant the world to me to hear that word. That was what motivated me to strive harder, to do more beyond what I could do.

I loved hearing the sound of my medals around my neck as I skipped towards my family to show them. They would be delighted to see the shiny gold medals and would clap for me. They would tell me that I did my best, that I did well, and that they knew I wouldn't let them down at all.

Those were the sounds I liked the most. It was heavenly. It was nice. I wished it lasted.

And then, there were the sounds I didn't like to hear at all.

The screams of my family when I would fail an exam. They would tell me all sorts of adjectives that were not really pleasing. They thought it was encouraging. It was, though, but negatively.

The laughter of people around me. Not the good kind. The one that taunted me. The one that my classmates would do when they realized I answered a question wrong or when my voice cracked upon reciting. They thought I intentionally did that to brighten up their day. I did not and it was not funny.

The inaudible cry I let out every night. It was and still is the worst sound I would hear. The silenced sobbing I've been doing to prevent waking up my family. The questions in my head that came along with it. The voices of everyone asking what happened to me.

What did happen to me? That was when I realized a lot of things that I didn't before.

I never really liked the sound my medals made before. After hearing its melodious clinking and clanking, my family thought it was right to scream at me when I did not achieve one. They thought if they did that, I would become motivated even more to get more medals.

I never liked the sound of praise and clapping. I despised it so much. Once I fail, once I stop being at the very top, there would only be whispers of people that would turn into voices that haunted me at night, asking me what happened.

What happened to me?

I became miserable. That's what.

The enthusiastic voice I used to have faded along with time. The melodious and sincere laugh I used to give out freely did not come out of my mouth. My singing voice that used to sing happy tunes turned into sorrowful silenced cries every night.

People thought it was comforting when I spoke wise words to them but they did not know how much I wanted to hear those, too.

I heard a little clink-clank earlier this morning. I looked at what it was that fell from the ground and saw it was shiny. One of my golden medals made its clinking again, reminding me of the things I did not want to hear.

I became older and I realized the sounds I want to hear all this time.

I want to hear "it's okay," especially right now that I am not so sure if I am taking the path that is right for me and that I don't know if I still want to become a teacher or if that is still what I want to do.

I want to hear "it's going to be fine," especially nowadays since everything feels like breaking apart again like how it normally and usually do which is weird because all these years I never get used to it.

I want to hear "you're not alone," especially every night when no one but me hears my cries as I carry my invisible burdens and scars with me in my already full-of-unspoken-thoughts brain.

I want to hear "I support you," especially at times when I feel like I am the bottom of a cliff as everyone wonders what is happening to me or when they tell me that maybe I am getting crazy or losing my darn mind.

I want to hear "I am here for you," especially when nobody else but me hears the rapid heart beats, the inaudible gasping for air, the racing and unstoppable thoughts, the quiet prayers and cries I let out randomly throughout a supposed to be fine day.

I want to hear "you matter," especially on days I feel like dying is the only option I have or when I keep on hearing the taunting voices I hear in the middle of the night that urge me to be silenced completely.

I want to hear these things especially now that I am falling apart as the sounds I don't like echo in my head.

I want to hear the sounds of hope, love, and support instead.