Simple. Muted. Noises.
~o0o~
And I'd choose you;
in a hundred lifetimes
in a hundred worlds,
in any version of reality,
I'd find you and
I'd choose you.
-The Chaos of Stars
~o0o~
Chapter One
Noise.
Noise.
Noise.
There's so many noises in the world, one might say there's too many. It's funny, how many more of them you begin to hear when you can no longer contribute in the most mundane of forms.
Mute, I, am a mute. Not deaf, just…. Incapable of speaking, although there's nothing wrong with me physically, mentally on the other hand….
But, moving on! They say not to dwell, that staying in the moment will only make it worse. But, making things worse was my specialty after all, take right now for instance….
BANG!
Not the BANG of solid wood door slamming, or even the BANG of pounding on said door, but rather the BANG of a gun going through said door. Accompanied by a scream one might expect with the sound of a gunshot, well, almost. The scream however, did not come from me.
The sound of footsteps pounding up stairs, and "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" A woman yelled at me, my mother to be exact.
She waited for me, like she actually thought I would reply, she sighed, "Now I know your therapist suggested exposure therapy, but this isn't the way to go about it."
While she seemed eerily calm, my eyes were wide, and my heart was racing.
"Sorry dear, was just checking it, and it seems like I forgot one was in the chamber…" My father sheepishly muttered.
My mother said nothing as she stared at my father with pursed lips, she turned to me and said, "That's it, you're going to stay with my sister. I was just chatting with her the other day, and she says she's got a spare flat. I'll simply pay her to fix the damp, and then you can stay there for free. So, dear, you can help her pack." She finished with a glare at my father, before spinning on her heel and slamming the door (with a new hole,) behind her.
I'd say I was too stunned to speak, but I wouldn't have even spoken even then.
"Mute by choice," my father muttered, "...and now she's just gonna send you off? Do you suppose she want's to just make it worse? It's not like it happened that long ago…"
I shrugged in response, and looked at him apologetically. "Now listen here," he began again, "I don't blame you at all, I blame that, that… foul, piece of…" He stopped his rant before he got too worked up.
He gave me a smile, and it was a smile full of pity. He meant well, but I could use less of the pitty. Living in a suburb, I'd received plenty of it when the whole block had heard about what happened to me. So, secretly I was slightly hopeful of going to stay with my aunt, because she was far, far from here.
My mother did not accompany me to the station, but my father did, bless him. Not that I'm religious, but he is, and I do wish him well no matter what. He's always been there for me, especially since… anyways!
Even as he was teary- eyed, I desperately tried to contain my excitement. Because after two years, I was finally getting away from it all. As a twenty-five year old who was used to being on her on and then to suddenly have everything change the way it did….
I boarded the train with a smil and a wave to my father, pulled my headphones on, and settled in for the long ride to central London.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
This time it was the BANG of a door knocker, made by myself to alert the residents to my arrival. In answer to my knock, I heard the faint noise of clicking heels, womans. A low heel, they were light steps, rather than the heavy footfalls of someone walking on their toes.
I smiled to myself, then my smile widened as my aunt opened the door, "Nova! Dear, I'm so glad to see you!" The thin older woman enveloped me in a firm, despite her looks, hug.
I said nothing and simply hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm. I only slightly feared she may bring notice to my silence, but she proved me wrong. She pulled back from me still smiling, "Come on now, let's get you settled in, and then you can meet the boys!"
I tilted my head in curiosity, boys? But I followed behind her anyways, and she chatted away, "The boys are the other tenants just up the stairs, and feel free to bother them if you need something and I'm not here. Oh, here we are! Now, it was a bit bad with damp before, but your mother had someone fix it all up for you! My sister has done so well for herself, it's a shame she's forgotten about her family though… It's all you have in the end you know?"
Aunt H. smiled sadly, with a new kind of pity, as she opened the door to 221C and gestured me in. I gave her a hopefully warm, understanding smile as I walked past her into the main room, and was pleasantly surprised. I wouldn't need to go upstairs to meet the other tenants after all.
"Oh! Sherlock what are you doing?" Aunt H. exclaimed, more exasperated than upset.
At our entrance, the man sitting on my grey sofa sprung up, with his long legs took three strides, crossed the room, and stopping directly in front of me. His hands steeped under his chin, his eyes narrowed, and gave me quite the thorough examination. As he did, I did my own examination: A tall, dark, curly haired man, with sharp cheek bones, and piercing grey-blue eyes. Handsome.
"Now Sherlock-" Aunt H. looked alarmed now, why? The man, presumably Sherlock, soon answered my question.
"Bags under your eyes, sloppy hair, with dye still on the ends, too big sweater, sweatpants, flighty eyes, hunched shoulders… Insecure, paranoid, things happened recently-" He spoke fast, with a mesmerizing deep voice. The curly haired man could almost be labeled "Tall, dark, and handsome." … As long as he didn't open his mouth. The things he was saying…. Were almost spot on, but I wasn't really listening. "- apathy. Are you even listening?"
The man, Sherlock, brought me from my musings, and I answered by signing, "You were stating some rather insulting facts about me?"
Sherlock tilted his head as his frown deepened, I continued signing, "Am I supposed to care? While it's fascinating you gleamed all that with knowing me only two seconds, I don't particularly care one way or another. As you stated, too much apathy or something. Do you have a point to it? Do you intend to fix my problems?"
Sherlock seemed to be lagging, "No, I- mute?"
I sighed, "Did I guess wrong? Can you read sign?"
In turn he signed, "Yes," and looked like he was going to say more, but I cut him off. "Then get to your point if the first thing you do upon meeting me is insult me, and it's not your intention to fix my problems." I finished with raised brow in expectation
By the tension in the air, I felt his stillness (silence to me,) was unusual.
I sighed, turned to Aunt H. and knowing she couldn't read sign, typed on my phone:
Sorry, mind if I put my stuff away first? Then we can chat with some tea.
Aunt H. nodded, "Alright dear, I'll have a talk with this one while you do." She smiled at me as I began walking off. She turned towards Sherlock with a disapproving scowl on her face, "Upstairs, now mister."
I heard the beginnings of his protest, but Aunt H. beat him to it, "Now." And I hear them leave as I shut the door to my new bedroom.
I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
Finally, there's silence.
I smile broadly.
Finally.
Well? How is it? I already have another six chapter typed of, and they'll each be loner than this one, if anyone cares. If not, I'll probably up load them anyways...
Review even if you didn't like it please, just try not to make me cry, I'd love to improve if I can...
