Mute.

mute. [jb||au]

mute. [jb||au]

[WARNING] this book contains depressed themes and might cause your own sadness. if you are feeling any type of way, pm me and i can help you. 💗💗

i should warn you, i wrote this book when i barely knew what a storyline was and what a real story actually consisted of, so bare with me. the book may get a little congested, and of track, but i am trying to get better.. thanks.

and yes, i know that i am using lowercased letters.

. . .

"so, you can't talk?" she asked, eyes filled with sadness. her face distorted into a look of concern. she'd only just known him for a while, and she had already discovered his secret. well, he called it a secret. . .

he hid his embarrassment, bringing his eyes low. he didn't want her to find out. she was going to find out sooner or later, the voice spoke through to him. a shiver made it's way up his spine. the voice was back.

a hand came up to his cheek, lifting his face towards her. "how long?" she asked. he felt the sorrow in her voice, like she cared. did she? or was she like the others? the others that just used him and left?

no, she didn't seem that way. . .

anyone could seem that way. . . the voice let out a gruff laugh. a humorless laugh, that made him want to shout.

he shrugged at the girl, not being able to tell her. he's been mute since birth. since freaking birth, was what he wanted to tell her.

people always wanted to feel sorry for him. he didn't need their sorry and their concerning glances. but, in a since he wanted this girl's. this girl seemed different. but, like the voice said, anyone can seem like that. . .

he looked into her eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity. he wanted to trust her, so he would. she'll be the last one he does.

he felt the couch deepen, and when he look up, she was right next to him.

"so, you are mute?" she quietly asked, her hand placed on his broad shoulder for comfort. his eyes drop again, towards the carpet he bought a month ago.

his fingers twirl around loose tread on his black sweatshirt. a sweatshirt he wore when he ran from home. a dysfunction place. a place he surely wasn't wanted.

he couldn't take looking up at her. he'd crack under her glaze.

he nodded his head, indicating that he was definitely mute. there was no other way to tell her. he just shook his head. . .

why god, why me? he spoke to himself. the only voice he had, not including the one that haunted him. . .

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if you already had this idea, is it too late to say sorry. . .i promise i didn't steal anything. . .haha, okk

W A R N I N G ; this book was written while i was (even though i still am) immature and i did not know how to write an actually storyline, so BEWARE OF MISTAKES.

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word count: 412
published: november 29