Chapter XXV: Mute

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                         Mayari Sekani Thompson

I feel warmth on my skin. Like there is sun shining directly onto my eyes. My body feels relaxed and I feel at peace. I want to sleep longer but I know I can't. I hear a grunt from someone to my right and my eyes open instantly.

I jump up with pain surging through my body from all different parts. I look around frantically trying to figure out where I'm at and what was my last memory is.

All the memories from the last few days or week comes back to me. I remember killing that random guy. Or maybe I didn't. Am I a murderer now? And what day even is it?

And I still don't know who's room i'm in, i've never seen this room before in my life. When I look to my right I see a person sleeping. Immediately I can recognize the hair of the person to be Messiah.

When I look down at my body I notice i'm wear a shirt that's way too big and sweat pants also really big on me. I think maybe I had been too noisy but I had woken up because he lifted his head up and his eyes were on me now.

I'm not sure what to say. If I can even say anything my voice started to go out at some point from all the screaming.

"I'll go get the doctor." Siah says leaving me alone in the room. Not looking at me for too long. I haven't even looked at myself, I wonder how I look. My hair probably looks crazy since it was taken out by that guy because and I quote he, "Like his girls natural." I walk over to the window and open the curtains a little bit more and the sun on my skin feels so good. So warm.

I hear a knock on the door and I try to say come in but nothing comes out and honestly I don't really feel like talking. I just turn to look at the door instead. In comes an older hispanic women wearing a white coat with a bag in each hand I look at her a little funny only because she's wearing long socks with poop emojis on it and a poop emoji hand band to match.

"Hi honey, how do you feel? Could you sit down on the bed for me? I'm doctor Miranda Rodriguez. I helped clean some of your cuts and put some antibiotics on your bruises last night. I'm just here to make sure you're okay. If at any moment you need or want me to leave i'll do so, okay?" Immediately her presence reminded me of my mom. I wonder when I can see her.

To answer her question I just nod and sit back down on the bed. As she's setting up stuff next to me she asks me, "Can you tell me your name?" I look at her but decide to not do anything other than that and she looks back at me tilting her head confused. "I understand if you do not feel comfortable. Can you tell me a random fact about yourself instead?"

Again I just look at her and then a few seconds later I point to my throat. "You cannot speak? Hm. Just for proof of who I am, here."She says giving me her Drivers license. Which she looked like in the picture maybe a few years younger and her name was the exact same.

"Could you open your mouth for me? I just want to check your throat." I nod giving her back the License and then opening my mouth. I open it and she uses a tiny mirror and a flashlight to see inside.

"Well it looks like you have laryngitis. Don't worry about it too much. It can be cured in its early stages like your situation. Drink plenty of fluids and just rest your voice as much as possible for, what I recommend two weeks, okay?" Again I nod.

"I'll let them know. You'll need a phone to be able to talk in more complex conversations. After a week words like "Yes" and "No", simple words should be fine but nothing too long or straining. And how does your face feel? Use your thumbs to tell me." I give her a side ways thumb but really it's more of a thumbs down. But it could be worse.

"You are a strong girl that's for sure. I brought some of my daughters old clothes. She grown now and moved out but she sends clothes she can't fit anymore for me to give when I go back to Puerto Rico. Some are looser, others are tight. I didn't know what you prefer." She finishes cleaning all of my wounds besides my back which I think she couldn't see because I was on it last night.

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