Fall In Silence [FICTION]

I roll out of bed like any other day. My body follows my normal routine with no assistance from my mind. Free to travel wherever it desires, it continues the dream of the previous night. I hum softly, reliving the thrill of a million fans screaming to hear more lyrics from my stellar voice. I chuckle softly as the glow of morning sunlight reminds me that my voice has been compared to nails on a chalkboard. Thus I work as an administrative assistant for minimum wage and still sleep down the hall from my mother.

I shove a pile of her medicines to the back of the sink and reach for the toothpaste. I close my eyes and cleanse my teeth, trying to step back into my dream for just a few more seconds. Loud snores from beyond my mother’s open door dash those hopes. I sigh and resolve to find escape from the rut that is my life as soon as I can afford it.

To that end, I find myself stepping off of the elevator on the tenth floor. A stark hallway greets me. At the end of the hallway, I open one of the double doors and step into my daytime home. The receptionist looks up at me with her warmest welcoming smile. It quickly slips as her dark eyes rest on me. She nods her head and bends back over her keyboard.

I open my mouth to squeak out a good morning, but no sound crosses my lips. I clear my throat and try again. Still nothing. Puzzled, I reach my hand up to my face, swiping it across my mouth as if to wipe away some obstruction. I part my lips again and only manage a guttural grunt.

The receptionist frowns and opens her mouth. For a moment, I think and hope that she lost the power to speak as well.

“Are you drunk or something?” She snarls.

I shake my head and hurry toward my desk outside Mr. Mark’s office. I lower myself slowly to my chair as the phone begins to ring. On reflex, I raise it to my ear. My mouth opens but remains empty of words.

“Hello?” A tentative voice asks.

I grunt.

“Is this Mr. Mark’s office?” The voice tries again.

I force air through my throat, but my tongue doesn’t form it into words. An exasperated sigh and a click follow from the other end.

I place the phone in its cradle and reach to my mouth once more. My lips crackle dryly under my fingers. I try to lick my lips but my tongue doesn’t move. I breathe deeply, open my mouth and poke my limp tongue. It moves with my finger and falls back into my lower jaw as I withdraw my hand.

“Michaela?” Mr. Mark’s lip curls with disgust as he looks down at me. “Is something wrong?”

I shrug my shoulders.

Mr. Mark sets his briefcase on the edge of my desk and leans toward me. “Are you feeling okay?”

I shake my head.

Clearly annoyed, he leans closer. “Use your words.”

I scrawl words on the memo pad. ‘I can’t talk.’

“What?” As his annoyance builds, his voice rises and a flush creeps from his neck to the roots of his blond hair.

The phone rings before I can write a response. Reaching one long arm across the desk, Mr. Mark snatches up the phone before I can reach it.

“Hello?”

An excited voice lays out a litany of words, giving him no futher chance to speak. As the flow of words ebbs, he hands the phone to me.

“Your mother.” He shakes his head as if to release some of my mother’s commentary from his mind. “She is apologizing, so I assume she’s the cat who has your tongue.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, he takes his briefcase and heads into his office. He pauses on the threshold.

“When you’re done with that call, you better take the day off.” He closes the door behind him.

I lift the phone to my ear.

My mother’s breathless voice greets me. “Michaela? Did you hear me? Are you there?”

I make a soft whistling sound.

“Do that again if you heard what I said.” She says.

I maintain my silence.

“Okay. You need to go to Dr. Stanley’s office. You brushed your teeth with one of my medicines this morning. He says you should be fine, but he wants to see you.”

My eyes widen and I groan.

“I’m sorry, honey. I saw that it looked like your toothpaste. I thought I put it away, but you know…” As her words roll on, I slowly lower the receiver and prepare to go.