A Silent Voice Mom Novels & Stories

my mom asked I raised my head from my pillow to look up at her. I pouted and without responding I placed my head on her lap, banging it severally. My mom stopped me. “What are you doing, you will give yourself a headache. What is wrong?” “Nothing.” I looked up and smiled. My smile disappeared when I realized how raspy my voice sounded. I had lost my voice. Shit “What happened to your voice?” my mom asked, alarmed. I kept silent, so embarrassed at the sound of my voice to talk. I just shrugged my shoulders.

He says but I was frozen on the spot, my lips were sealed and I felt like I was going to faint at any moment. "Please say something.... Your silence is scaring me" He says with a pleading expression I took a deep breath and controlled my rapid heartbeat "Ohh..... Ian, it's like a dream come true.... I have never expected this to happen.... It feels like a dream.... Please someone pinch me" I said getting emotional I was about to say yes when I heard my mother's voice "Christy ...Christyyyy...." I frowned listening to my mother's voice "What is Mom doing here?" I thought

“It draws attention.” “I’m sorry,” I whispered back. I pulled my mother closer and lowered my voice. “I don’t know where Sarah is. That’s the problem. I’ve been searching but I can’t find her.” My mother’s face tightened. Then she whispered, “Since I came here… I have been hearing a voice.” My breath caught. “A voice?” “Yes,” she said. “A woman. She cries all the time. Her voice is not like the others....not lost in their own grief. Her voice is sharp. She begs to be released.”

Before I could finish the sentence she handed me a hot slap on my left cheek as I pressed my hand against my cheeks. “Watch your mouth Sera,” Gina growled. “You don’t even feel any form of remorse for what you did and now you are even blaming others for your shame.” Mom scowled. “Is this how I raised you?” Mom waved her hands at me. “Answer me?” When I saw no matter what I said she wouldn’t believe it, I preferred not to say another word and stay silent and absorb whatever she threw at me. “You lost your voice now? I thought you were outspoken.”

Now it was quiet, like she didn’t want me or Dominic to hear. Today, I was in my room, reading a book about a girl who runs away from home. My door was open a little because my room got hot. I heard Mom go into her bedroom across the hall. She started talking on the phone right away, not even sitting down. Her voice was low, whispering. I could hear her friend Sarah’s voice sometimes, but it was mostly Mom. “Yes, I know,” she whispered. “It’s hard, Sarah. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

It was evident that I was the only one here today. The only sound that was made was the breeze whispering through the trees, carrying the usual scent of damp earth and rotting trees. “Hello Mom,” I mumbled under my breath, my voice barely above a whisper. “It's been ages, and I miss you so much. I wish you could just speak to me once again. I miss your voice; I miss your golden advice, Mother, and I never want to forget any of them.” But no one responded; only silence. She was gone, and the dead couldn't communicate with the living. On a normal day, I would have accepted that, but then I was going through hell with no one to talk to except her, so it hurt like crazy.

Anyway, here is not the place to argue. "She...the...enemy...is..." I didn't even get to shake her hand as we are interrupted by the laboured voice of my mother. We all snap at her. "Hun? Love! You are awake?" Papa's voice echoes with joy, but all of a sudden, something happens that makes him and I whisper. Mom falls silent, and not just her, but the machines too. The machine goes flat. The room falls deadly quiet. Sadly, our fears have struck us. Mom has left us.

I can hear movement on her end, like she’s adjusting the phone, checking the caller ID again. “Hello? If this is a joke—” “I—” My voice breaks completely. She goes silent. I try again, my chest aching. “I…” The word barely forms. She inhales sharply on the other end. And just as she’s about to hang up, “Mom.” The word leaves my lips like a confession. Like a child who got lost and is finally admitting it. There’s silence on the other end. Not static. Not disconnection. Just stunned, breathless silence.

“You’re the last voice she can claim.” Yvette nodded. “Then let her.” --- The shadows thickened around the circle. The air grew sharp. Her heartbeat thundered like war drums. Then—she was no longer alone. She saw her mother. Her real mother. Not the smiling one from pictures, but the worn, weeping version who died with so many secrets. She mouthed one word: “Fight.” Then she vanished. And in her place— Her Silence arrived. The faceless figure. No mouth. Just raw, scarred skin where the voice should be.

Her breath shuddered. And for a moment, I thought maybe she’d heard me, maybe she’d wake up, her eyes bright again, her smile warm. But the moment passed. Her chest rose once more, slow and shallow. Then nothing. I felt the absence immediately. The silence was so loud it rang in my ears. “Mom?” I whispered, my heart stumbling. Nothing. I leaned closer, my palm pressed to her sternum, willing it to lift again. Please. Just one more breath. Just one more.