mute

chapter 20

Chapter: Shattered Reflections

The next morning dawned softly, the first rays of sunlight filtering into Billie’s room as she stirred awake. Odessa was still by her side, having stayed through the night to make sure Billie was okay after the intense meltdown. Billie blinked slowly, her body still exhausted but feeling a sense of calm that had been absent the day before. Odessa’s presence, as always, grounded her.

As Billie stretched out, her tics began to surface, small and soft—"Eh, tsk, hm-hm." Odessa looked over at her with a gentle smile, brushing her hair back. "How are you feeling?" she signed slowly, knowing Billie was still too worn out to try vocalizing anything.

Billie nodded in response, signing back, "Better." Her body felt drained, but the overwhelming anxiety that had clutched at her the day before had loosened its grip, for now at least. She knew, though, that the calm might not last.

"Do you want to go to dance today?" Odessa asked, her hands moving gracefully as she signed. Billie hesitated but then nodded. Dance was one of the few things that helped her express emotions she couldn’t find words for. It had become a lifeline, but some days, the lights, the mirrors, and the sensory load could be too much.

After breakfast, the two girls headed to the dance studio, Billie clutching her fidget toy in one hand and wearing her ear defenders around her neck, just in case. The familiar sight of the studio usually brought her some comfort, but today something felt off. As soon as she stepped inside, the lights felt brighter than usual, almost harsh. The sounds of the other dancers warming up echoed loudly in her ears, despite her ear defenders not being on yet.

Her heart started to race as she glanced at the mirrors lining the walls. The reflection staring back at her felt wrong—her own appearance seemed foreign, distorted even. She tugged at her shirt, feeling suddenly too self-conscious about how it fit, how it clung to her body. The longer she stared at herself in the mirror, the more the panic began to rise.

Odessa noticed the shift in Billie’s demeanor immediately, the way her body tensed, and how her hands started shaking. “Billie?” she signed, stepping closer.

But Billie’s breathing had already quickened, her chest rising and falling too fast. Her vocal tics broke through as her hands flapped uncontrollably, a sign of the meltdown building. “Eh! Tsk! Hm-hm!” she grunted, her body jerking with each tic. The room felt too bright, too loud, too full. The mirrors only amplified her distress as she stared at her reflection, feeling like she didn’t belong in her own skin.

Billie couldn’t take it anymore. Her mind was swirling, her emotions tangled in a knot that was pulling tighter and tighter. With a panicked gasp, she bolted from the studio, her feet pounding against the pavement as she ran home, Odessa calling after her but unable to stop her.

Billie burst through her front door, ignoring her family’s startled questions as she ran straight to her room, slamming the door behind her. She paced the floor, the sensation of her own clothes rubbing against her skin unbearable. Every little thing—the feel of the fabric, the image of herself in the mirror—was too much.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself again. Her hands shook, the familiar urge to stim taking over. But this time, her usual stimming wasn’t enough. The weight of the emotions was too much—self-hatred, frustration, feeling like she didn’t fit inside her own body. Her reflection mocked her, amplifying every insecurity.

“Eh! Tsk! Hm-hm!” The vocal tics grew louder and more desperate as her breathing became shallow. Billie’s hands twitched, and without fully thinking, she slammed her fist into the mirror. The glass cracked instantly, shards falling to the floor with a sickening sound. The impact stung, but the pain didn’t register in the way she expected. It was dulled by the overwhelming storm inside her mind.

She stared at the broken shards, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn’t express. Her body trembled as the meltdown overtook her completely. The shattered mirror felt like a reflection of her own mind—splintered, chaotic, and broken.

Odessa arrived shortly after, having rushed home from the studio when she realized Billie wasn’t coming back. She found Billie in her room, standing in front of the broken mirror, her hands shaking violently, her vocal tics continuing in rapid succession. “Tsk! Eh! Hm-hm!”

Odessa didn’t say anything at first. She just carefully moved toward Billie, her eyes filled with empathy. She placed a hand on Billie’s arm, her touch gentle. Billie’s body tensed, but after a few moments, she began to relax slightly under Odessa’s touch.

“It’s okay,” Odessa whispered, though she knew Billie couldn’t hear her. She slowly guided Billie to sit down on the floor, away from the broken glass. Billie’s breathing was still uneven, and her tics punctuated the air: “Eh! Tsk! Hm-hm!”

Odessa held her close, allowing Billie to lean on her as her body continued to shake from the meltdown. The pressure of Odessa’s embrace helped ground her, even as the tics persisted.

After several long minutes, Billie’s breathing started to slow, the intense flood of emotions finally beginning to subside. Her vocal tics softened, though they still came in short bursts. “Tsk… eh…”

Odessa stayed with her, patiently waiting for Billie to fully calm down. She knew Billie wasn’t ready to talk—wasn’t able to talk—but her presence was enough for now. The broken mirror lay forgotten on the floor as they sat together, the aftermath of the meltdown still hanging in the air.

When Billie finally lifted her head to look at Odessa, her eyes were filled with exhaustion and a deep sadness. She signed shakily, “I’m sorry.”

Odessa shook her head, signing back, “You don’t need to apologize. I’m here for you. Always.”

Billie didn’t respond, but the small nod she gave was enough to let Odessa know she understood. They sat in silence for a while longer, the only sounds in the room the soft ticking of Billie’s vocal tics and the occasional rustle of movement.

Eventually, Maggie and Patrick came to check on Billie, their faces full of concern as they saw the broken mirror and the state Billie was in. But they didn’t say anything, knowing that right now, Billie needed space to process.

For the rest of the day, Billie remained quiet, too worn out from the emotional storm to do much of anything. But with Odessa by her side, she didn’t feel as alone. Even in the midst of the chaos inside her mind, she knew she had someone who understood—someone who could help her through the worst of it.