Imagine living in a world where you are cursed with having no voice, meet Adam Brantley, a 15 year old student from Stillward high school in Luton. Ever since the day he was born he's had to live in complete torture, he was born without vocal chords. At school he's bullied for this, every day for him feels like a lifetime, joke after joke was shouted at him, but what can he do...nothing. He takes all these jokes but deep down inside he's ruined, ruined mentally. Any confidence Adam has is gone in a heartbeat whenever he sees the jocks; they were the cooler kids, the sporty kids and the good looking
Although Adam can't speak, he found a way to put all his thoughts and feelings down, he had a diary. This diary was the one thing keeping Adam going, If he ever lost this he probably just give up, he'd never lost it or had it taken before.
One day however was quite different than any other day. It stated like any other day, he gets the usual chants of the jocks, by now Adam was used to it, Lessons flew by as usual, Adam was a very intelligent but was never able to show off his talents due to his inability to talk. Adam wants revenge from whoever caused him to have no voice, enen if it's down to natural causes Adam would find someone to blame. However as it got to break time Adam wa sat in his usual spot on the grass adding his usual diary entry when all of sudden something hits him and he's our cold, he heard voices but can't tell who they are, as long as he doesn't lose his dairy he was ok. Little did Adam know this event would cause him to go on the adventure of a lifetime, meet new people who accept him for who he is, do things which he never thought he'd be capable to do in his whole life, He meets her; the Voice of the Voiceless
Book 1 of "𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐐 𝐀𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐀𝐇" series
INAYA'S POV
Before me, he sits. After 7 long years-7 years of absence, he shows up. Yet, when I study his eyes, I find nothing but unfamiliarity. His once warm, brown orbs are now veiled with darkness, devoid of any emotions, with a coldness that chills the air. His rosy pink pigmented lips, which once used to mold in a tender curve in my presence, now refuse to smile. Am I looking at the same person? How can his face be so familiar, yet his essence a mystery? Is he the same person-the Ishaan I once loved? The love that remained unspoken seven years ago, the love that refuses to fade? Is he truly the Ishaan Shekhawat that resides in my memories, or a specter of the past, wearing a guise of indifference over the soul I once knew?
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