mute

chapter 25

Chapter: The Breaking Point

The next day, Billie went to dance class like she always did. But something felt off from the moment she stepped into the studio. The air felt too thick, the lights too bright, and every noise seemed amplified. She wore her ear defenders, hoping it would help, but nothing seemed to make the anxiety inside her calm down.

Billie tried to push through. She loved dance. It was one of the few things that made her feel free, that helped her express emotions she couldn’t put into words. But today, even her body seemed to rebel. Her tics were constant—small, sharp jerks of her head, flaps of her hands, her legs twitching uncontrollably. “Tsk! Eh!” Her vocal tics punctuated the silent room, but Odessa, who stood nearby, gave her a reassuring smile, silently encouraging her to keep going.

Billie focused on the music and tried to let her body move with it. But as she went through the routine, a sharp pain shot through her hip. She stumbled, but tried to shake it off, taking a deep breath to reset herself. She pushed forward, not wanting to stop, but the pain got worse. Each movement sent a jolt of agony through her side, until finally, her body gave in.

With a sudden, sickening pop, Billie collapsed to the ground, clutching her hip in agony. The pain was unbearable, unlike anything she had ever felt before. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. Her breath came in short gasps, her body trembling uncontrollably from the pain. “Tsk! Tsk! Hm-hm!” Her tics were coming faster now, each one making the pain worse.

Odessa rushed to her side, her face full of worry. “Billie! Billie, stay with me, okay? It’s going to be okay.”

But Billie couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even sign. Her vision blurred with tears as the pain overwhelmed her, leaving her feeling trapped in her own body.

The dance instructor quickly called for an ambulance, and within minutes, Billie was rushed to the hospital. Odessa stayed by her side the entire time, holding her hand and whispering words of comfort. But the ride was a blur for Billie. The lights in the ambulance, the loud beeping of the machines, the strangers talking around her—it was all too much. Her body was wracked with tics, her head jerking, arms flailing, legs twitching. “Tsk! Hm! Eh!” The noise from her vocal tics mixed with the chaos around her, making everything feel even more unbearable.

By the time they reached the hospital, Billie was on the verge of an autistic meltdown. The pain, the overwhelming sensory input, and the fear of what was happening to her body all collided in her mind. As they wheeled her into the emergency room, Billie felt herself shut down. Her hands flapped wildly, her body rocked back and forth, her head jerking uncontrollably. She could feel the meltdown taking over, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Tsk! Eh! Hmm!” Her vocal tics grew louder, more erratic, as she struggled to breathe through the overwhelming pressure in her chest. She tried to pull at her hair, but Odessa gently stopped her, holding her hands down and whispering, “It’s okay, Billie. You’re okay. I’m here.”

Billie couldn’t process any of it. She could barely hear Odessa’s words through the chaos in her mind. The hospital lights were too bright, the voices too loud, and the pain too much to handle. She felt trapped in her own body, spiraling deeper into the meltdown with every second.

Hours passed in a blur. The doctors ran tests, took X-rays, and examined Billie’s hip. Eventually, the news came. The growth plate in her hip had torn—an injury so severe that it would prevent her from ever dancing again. The doctor’s voice was calm, clinical, as he delivered the devastating diagnosis. But to Billie, his words felt like knives.

She didn’t cry, didn’t scream. She just stared at the wall, her body still and motionless, as the doctor’s words sank in. Odessa sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, but Billie didn’t react. It was as if her mind had shut down completely, too overwhelmed to process the enormity of what had just happened.

“Billie, I’m so sorry,” Odessa whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

But Billie couldn’t respond. She just sat there, staring blankly at the wall with tears silently streaming down her face. Her body felt heavy, numb, as if all the life had been drained out of her. She couldn’t feel anything—not even the pain in her hip. It was like everything inside her had gone quiet, leaving her in a hollow, empty space.

Her family arrived soon after, their faces full of concern. Maggie, Patrick, and Finneas rushed to her side, but even their presence didn’t break through the wall Billie had built around herself. They tried to comfort her, but she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even look at them. The only movement she made was the occasional twitch of her hand or a small vocal tic—“Tsk. Hmm.”—but it was weak, barely there.

The doctors explained everything to her parents, but Billie tuned it all out. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to think about a future without dance. It had been her outlet, her way of expressing herself when words failed, and now it was gone. The weight of that reality pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

When they returned home from the hospital, Billie went straight to her room. She sat on her bed, staring at the wall, just as she had in the hospital. The tears continued to fall, but they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. She felt detached from everything, as if she were watching her life from the outside.

Odessa stayed with her the entire time, never leaving her side. She didn’t say much—she knew Billie wasn’t in a place to talk—but her presence was steady and grounding. Even though Billie felt like she was drowning in her own silence, Odessa was there, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

But the loss of dance was too much. The grief of it weighed on her like a boulder, and for the first time in a long time, Billie didn’t know how to cope. She didn’t stim, didn’t tic, didn’t do anything but sit there, feeling the overwhelming sadness and emptiness take over.

Odessa gently brushed a strand of hair away from Billie’s face, her eyes full of compassion. “We’ll figure this out, Billie. I promise.” But even as she said the words, Billie couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

And as she sat there, staring at the broken pieces of her future, Billie couldn’t imagine how she would ever find a way forward.