Random one-page stories

Listen

We are silenced. From age 6, we are forced to wear tape over our mouths, never to speak our minds. Many have forgotten what their voice sounded like years ago. The only people with the right to speak are the corrupt leaders. Those who do try to defy them are likely to be imprisoned or, worse, brutally beaten and killed.

I can't tell you how often I have walked through the streets with my mum and stumbled across a small group of defiant adults and teens speaking up about our speechless society in the main square. But no one listens to them; we are too scared to. Many walk past, ignoring their cries for rights- it never takes long for the police to shut them down by force. They never ask questions, they never listen, yet it is the only thing we as a society can do. Not even the police can escape the grasp of this silence; the only ones who can speak are those in power; those without power are worthless, nothing but dirt under their feet. The only way to gain power was to be born into a privileged family or, by some miracle, prove your superiority over simple people meant for nothing more than purely having the right to live.

Today was no exception. I caught the train to the store to buy the groceries, deaf to the propaganda being forced into our heads through the speaker system all around the city. It's not like I'm not listening; it's just that I've heard it all already. Once we pulled up, I stepped out onto the platform, eyes glancing over the tape on everyone's mouths. The air always feels thick and heavy; the only thing you can hear are footsteps echoing across the concrete. Despite this, I made my way out of the station, barely able to listen to the robotic voices greeting people and bidding those leaving farewell; it wasn't like anyone could personally do it.

I held my bag tightly as I walked through the street, eyes glued to the footpath to avoid looking anyone in the eye. The store isn't far away; I can make it if I keep looking down and don't engage with anyone. I held my breath as I ducked into the store, footsteps tapping against the shining tiles. 'So far, so good. Nothing to get distracted from. Good.' I looked down at my list of groceries, letting out a sigh as I began to walk back and forth through the aisles. I glanced back and forth between the list and the shelves as I collected the needed items, catching sight of an old woman with some old-looking tape stretched across her face; who knows how long it's been since it was changed. Of course, you could replace the tape, but it always hurts to remove it, and then immediately have to put a new strip of the ghastly thing back on... maybe it was better to keep the first piece you ever put on.

From the other aisle, I could hear a child's voice asking questions to their parental figure, such as

"Why doesn't anyone else talk? Am I special? Can I choose not to wear it?"

Everyone wished that was the case, that little children could keep their innocence forever, but the world doesn't work that way. Eventually, that bright light will be snuffed out like the rest of us. "One day, I will speak for you, mama. I promise!" My heart sank; promises like that will only end in tatters, loose strings that can never be tied. If the mother could talk, she would probably say something like: "Thank you, sweetie, you are very good." I turned the corner in time to watch the mother give her child a comforting hug, a silent show of gratitude before they continued onward.

I watched them leave; so much hope from one little person in the big world, blind to the bitter truth of reality. If only the world worked like they wanted, people would be happier, hearing others laugh, seeing their smiles for the first time, and hearing the voices of their loved ones. I stumbled back into motion, shaking the impossible thought away. It would never happen, so do not think about if it were to happen. I shuffled through my bag, pulling out my wallet as I approached the counter, watching the cashier scan my groceries. I didn't want to stare, yet I couldn't help but feel sorry for them; their eyes looked so empty, not a glimmer of hope to be found. I swallowed my pride, paying for my groceries and collecting the change before taking the bags of goodies and heading out. Holding the bags tightly, I squeezed my hands around the handles; feeling something between my fingers was always nice.

Then I heard the sounds of pleading, begging for anyone to listen. I looked up, trying to locate the source of the voice. Despite myself, I couldn't help but follow the voice, walking faster and faster the closer I got. If I didn't engage, I would be safe from the brutality, right? Maybe if I just had a quick look, I could run home before anyone noticed I was there. My pace slowed as I saw a woman, standing on the fountain in the centre of the town square, megaphone in hand.

"Listen to me, I beg of you! We can speak up and speak our minds if we want it! Do you hear me? We can decide our fate if we work together and fight for our freedom of speech! No longer should we sit in silence while those who dictate our lives make poor decisions; no longer will I sit in silence and watch as my friends and family are torn apart. I will stand for this no more!"

She sounded so confident, so determined for anyone to hear. Like myself, a few people had stopped to watch, though they were most likely waiting for her to be shut down, just like the rest. She looked at those who were at least aware of her futile attempts, hoping that maybe someone would join her cause. Someone was bound to unite with her; it was only a matter of time before she was killed before our eyes.

Soon enough, a large group had formed around the fountain, listening as the woman continued to call us to action, to stand with our brothers and sisters and fight for our freedom of speech. Eventually, my senses were flooded with the sounds of tape being ripped from skin; one after the other, people gathered with the woman, cheering things like:

"She's right!"

"We deserve to speak!"

"My life will no longer be dictated by someone else!"

I glanced over their faces; their spark of hope had been rekindled, and that light I saw in the child's eyes shining brightly had finally been relit by one brave soul, ready to die for the rights of others.

I stood in shock; every fibre of my being agreed with them, screaming at me to tear the voice-drowning material from my lips, finally being able to speak for myself after years of being cast aside. My fingers brushed against the shiny tape that had acted like a shackle chaining my voice down, nails digging under the adhesive strip as I contemplated my next move.

That is until I saw red. The sounds of guns firing, other weaponry being thrown by the police, and the very lifeforce of those who fought painted the pavement a deep crimson. I could hear their screams- their blood-curdling cries of pain and agony filled my ears. I staggered back, quickly stuffing my hands into my pockets as I watched in horror, unable to say a word. When the sounds finally stopped, all that was left was a pool of blood, the lifeless bodies slowly being dragged away one by one.

I stared at one of the officers, my knuckles white as I clenched it tightly in my pocket— all those lives- were gone in the blink of an eye. He eventually caught sight of me as he calmly approached. He locked eyes with me as my breath started to shake. There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes as he carefully pried the tape from his mouth. "Go home, kid. Your parents may be worried about you." He then pressed the tape back in its rightful position, walking off with the rest of his team. Despite my rage, I pivoted on my heel, briskly returning home.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. There was nothing I could have done, at least that wouldn't have ended with me being killed like them. That's the cruel reality of this world; we are here to listen, to follow orders, and nothing more.