The Loudest Voice In The Room

Shhh… They Will Hear Us.. A Collection of Rated 18+ Stories (Mature Content) It always started with a bad decisio, or even maybe just a bad timing. Three years ago, he was living a dream of successful, independent, and settled in a stunning luxury penthouse overlooking the city. And Now, the money is tighter, the pressure is real, and the lifestyle he built is slowly slipping through his fingers. So when his younger sister, Gretta, gets a job in the same city, asking her to move in feels like the only option left he can offer. It should be simple. Just two siblings sharing space. Right? But it’s not. Because beneath the surface of their normal lives lies something neither of them has ever fully confronted,, something that began years ago during a strange, unforgettable night far from home. A moment that separated lines, shifted perspectives, and left behind a silence they both agreed never to break till then. Now, forced into close quarters together again, that silence feels heavier than ever before. The Old memories resurface. Boundaries feel thinner. And the tension between what’s right and what’s felt becomes harder to ignore and argue. Shhh… They Will Hear Us is a bold collection of mature, 18+ stories that explore secrecy, complicated relationships, inner conflict, desires and the consequences of unspoken desires. These stories are not about what’s said out loud but what hidden in the quiet.

Being a mute used to be simple before all the craziness started. I just can't talk and that's who I am. Mum has learned to accept that and I guess so have I. Everything was just fine in my high school in Shanghai. I had finally made it to year twelve and even though I was in China, I was actually being treated as a human being despite my disability. Things were definitely not perfect but I would give anything to go back to that, like it was before. I heard my first voice that year, right at the beginning of year 12. I didn’t really have any real friends, but I was used to it and before the voices started, I was fine with that. But it all changed when I first heard them. The voices inside their heads started then and my life was never the same. They weren't just thinking about school or they girls or guys they were into, no they were thinking about doing things, doing horrible things to each other and I was the only one that knew how messed up they really were.

I sighed again. "I understand. I'm sorry for using the tone I used before." I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "Why didnt you tell me about your problem on day one? I would have spoken louder. I wou-" She shook her head. "That's not necessary." "Why isn't it?" "T-t-there's something about your voice," she stammered nervously as she gently tugged at her fingers. "My voice?" She nodded again. "It's hard to ignore." "I don't understand where you're going with this." "Your voice," she looked down as a light blush stained her cheeks, "is the only voice that I can hear perfectly." ~ Alexia Dawson is a partially deaf woman who struggles to fit in with the other staff at her workplace. Being heterochromic as well, she is the main target for gossip and this makes her very insecure. One night, she is humiliated during a party by one of her coworkers and leaves the building in tears. In the parking lot, she meets a stranger who listens to her troubles and this man later turns out to be the boss' son who happens to be taking over the company the following week! As these two come together in this beautiful romance, a jealous younger brother and ex fiancée get thrown into the mix! What will become of this pair of lovers?

I have a severe case of logorrhea. Only speaking makes me feel alive. My classmates all call me a freak, but Marvin Britt is the only one willing to listen to me. One day, I bring some homemade soup over to see him, only to catch him holding his junior's hand. "Lexie, your voice is so lovely, unlike my wife at home. She sounds like a squawking duck. It's exhausting." My hands shake so violently that I drop the thermal flask. The commotion angers a nearby madman, who forces a bottle of boiling water down my throat. With my mouth full of blood and blisters, I realize I need proof. I send Marvin—a lawyer—a frantic voice note to accompany me to the police station for evidence. Marvin shoots back a single word—"Noted". Of course. He doesn't even listen to it, as usual. He used to reply to everything I said with voice notes at least a minute long. But we hit the seven-year itch, and he's sick of my endless talking. Leaving the hospital, I stare at my diagnosis of permanent mutism and laugh bitterly. He must be thrilled. His world is finally quiet.

I go deaf in an attempt to save James Duncan. He falls to his knees before my parents and begs them to let me marry him. He says he'll care for me for life. He finally passes his five-year test, but he sleeps with his lover before our wedding. He does it before my very eyes. He clamps a hand over her mouth and says, "Be quiet. Don't wake Layla up." His lover giggles and nibbles on his palm. "What's there to be afraid of? She's deaf; she can't hear us." James doesn't know that I've already regained my hearing. He and his lover are also unaware that their behavior is being livestreamed.

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.