A Silent Voice Mom Novels & Stories

“And it worked every time?” “Every time,” I confirmed as I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. He got out of bed, his steps quiet as he approached me. “Alright, let’s give it a try.” I turned to him, lifting a finger to my lips. “But we have to be really quiet. My mom, even when she’s sleeping, has this uncanny ability to hear noises from a mile away. We do not want to wake her up.” Julian smirked and mimicked zipping his lips. “Got it. Silent as a ghost.”

A baby somewhere in the crowd began to cry, a thin, piercing wail, and then was quickly, almost violently, hushed. Then there's absolute silence. A silence so heavy it felt like a presence, pressing in on them all. The Queen Mother raised her arms, slowly, like old branches reaching for a forgotten sun. Her voice, now words, rang clear and chilling, cutting through the heavy air with the sharpness of winter ice. Each syllable seemed to etch itself onto the very air, carrying immense weight.

Kim is sitting in the backs and currently on the phone with someone I couldn't guess who. Before, I used to know. Mom glances at me. “What?” I ask her. “Nothing. You're just being quiet.” I reach over and turn the radio on. “I'm just...you know...I need this silence.” When I feel like I came a bit harsh, I say, “I mean with everything that is going on, I don't think it's that easy to find the words to say mom.” “It's fine.” She says while she reach her hand to mine. Then she places it back to the steering wheel. Her eyes are fixed on the road as she says, “I know. I understand.”

The feeling was so wonderful… From the surveillance camera Mom installed to monitor the house came a burst of static, and her voice followed. “Ellie, it’s a little cold outside. Find a jacket for Liam. We’ll come back to get it later. “You little brat. I only said a couple of things to you, and now you won’t even respond? “If you won’t get it, then forget it. We’ll just buy Liam new clothes!” Hearing Mom’s voice from the other side of the monitor, I desperately tried to respond loudly. However, I couldn’t make a sound. ‘Mom, did you forget I’m wearing headphones? I can’t hear you.

The silence was worse than the screams. For a second, my brain refused to believe it. The world had gone suddenly, brutally quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that eats sound, that feels heavy, wrong. My lungs forgot how to breathe. My body forgot how to move. “Mom?” The word scraped out of me like gravel. No answer. Then Damian’s voice cut through the haze, low and sharp. “Stay here.” “No.” My head snapped toward him. “She was calling for me—she—”

her mom tries again, her voice gentler this time, more cautious. There’s nothing. No response, not even a glance. My stomach drops at the sight, unease settling deep in my chest. “Sierra, sweetheart… how are you feeling?” her mom asks, squeezing her hand slightly. Still nothing… Sierra doesn’t look at her. She doesn’t acknowledge her presence, doesn’t even blink or react in any way. It’s like she doesn’t even hear her. A cold feeling spreads through me and I take a step closer, my eyes fixed on her face, searching desperately for something—anything—that tells me she’s still with us.

It was chaos—loud, messy, ugly chaos. And then— Silence. Footsteps approached my room… slowly. Then— Knock. Soft. Gentle. My mother’s voice, closer now, trembling at the edges. “Sienna… baby? It’s Mom.” My lips pressed together hard. Another soft knock. “Sweetheart… open the door. Please.” My whole chest folded in on itself. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. “Baby, I’m not here to shout,” she said, voice cracking.

Just as I selected the photo, an anxious voice suddenly rang out in my mind, "Wait, Mom! You can't send that!" Startled, I looked up. However, I didn't see any children around. Who on earth had just spoken? Sensing my confusion, the voice spoke again, "Mom, it's me. I'm your baby!" I was even more confused. Was the baby in my belly talking to me? But it was only a fetus that had barely taken shape! The voice continued, "Mommy, you sent that message right after the checkup in your last life. Dad's secretary saw it and got jealous, so she ran off. The deal he was about to sign fell through. In the end, Dad blamed everything on you.

I glare at him, my brows frowned. "She most certainly does. See I pretty much know everything about our students except her. She doesn't talk about her family and nobody at The Academy seems to know anything either. Even the information given to the school after she joined was vague...” He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes trained on me, “All the school knows about the Silent Student is that she comes from a rich family that possibly has connections to the chairman and that her name is Atlas Winters. She's practically a ghost at The Academy. Did you know that her age isn’t even in our system?"

Emma. You know that moment in horror movies where someone says "it's quiet... too quiet"? Yeah, turns out that's not just a cheesy line. Standing in my daughter's bedroom, watching darkness seep through a tear in reality while ancient beings of light swirled in panic around us, I finally understood what that phrase really meant. The silence wasn't just absence of sound – it was absence of everything. Like reality holding its breath. "Violet, honey," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm despite the fear clawing at my throat, "I need you to come to Mommy. Very slowly."