Raise Your Words Not Voice Novels & Stories

My voice is hoarse when it comes, but it carries anyway: "For starters, how about you all rise to your feet." The words leave me before I can think about them, and they’re not a question. They’re not a plea. They’re a command. And they obey. The clearing moves like a single creature. Knees lift from the earth, spines straighten, heads rise, dozens of them, maybe more, all at once, like the sound of a great forest of branches snapping upright. The glow tethering them to me flickers once, then brightens, spilling up their arms, their throats, into their faces until their eyes are no longer hollow but clear.

“And that I am not alone.” Matteo’s brows lift in approval. “Say it.” I blink. “Say what?” “Say the line you just created. Let me hear your tone.” I hold the recorder again. My throat feels scraped raw. Absolutely dry. I press the button and lift my chin. “Mr Vanilli,” I begin, “I see you clearly now. And I am no longer standing alone.” I stop the recording. The silence afterward hums. Matteo gives a small nod. “Your tone is steady. Your pace is controlled. But your voice is too soft. He will read it as fear instead of clarity.”

The moment these words escaped my lips he looked at me as a dark aura surrounds him, definitely not liking my action of raising my voice, hurting his ego. I gulped from fright as he took another step closer, utterly displeased by my choice of words. "Raymond…I… didn’t mean to… I.." I took one back, knowing I had evoked his wrath and he is not going to let it slide. My back hit the wall, he leaned in and said exasperatedly, scowling at my face, with a final threat, "I am warning you. Don't you dare to raise your voice against me ever again, Violet."

“It is shaped more than said. The sound matters less than the intention behind it. You need to know what each word means and feel it as you say it, not just recite it.” “Show me,” I said. He spoke the first word slowly. It sounded like something between a breath and a note, low and resonant. “This one means hold. Not hold as in grip. Hold as in remain. As in stay where you are.” I repeated it. He listened and shook his head slightly. “Less force,” he said. “You are not commanding it. You are reminding it.” I tried again. He nodded once. We went through four words standing in Julian’s office while Julian checked his blade and watched us with the particular expression of a man who was deeply u

Make them realize the pain and joy, but do it with humility and a blank mind to welcome comfort. There's nothing wrong in hiding for the right reason and getting out to prove your worth. Just go and be audacious. Be a warrior of your own words. Control the voices, and don't let them control you. 

My words held an urgent tone, demanding that time be of essence. "Yeaah!" they shouted altogether, as if even they could form a sort of approval chorus, while the oscillating sound waves crashed over me like a wave of enthusiasm. The room was electric and everyone was charged. Faces determined as if they all had their final moves planned. "Yeah, you are jiving me now," I said, my voice hyped, eager, almost tuning in on a frequency that only we could hear.

The soundwaves seemed to pulse with life, a testament to the enduring power of silence. Ren added a voice loop that night: “Not all echoes begin with words.” She layered the pinecone’s ambient scratch, wind brushing bamboo, and breath held for six seconds. Then she said, softly: “This sound was gifted. We honor it by not asking for more.” Ren’s voice loop was a tribute to the pinecone’s message, a celebration of the beauty of silence and the power of listening. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most profound connections are made not through words, but through the simple act of being present.

My eyes widened in confusion. 'Was I raising my voice at him?' I wonder as I feel the air rush out of me in a sigh "Oh, my! Was I really!?... I'm sorry, babe, I didn't realize!?... I didn't realize my voice was raised..." I say timidly as I slowly walk back to him. How can I be so passionate about pleading a cause to the extent of raising my voice at an innocent man? My mate! I feel so guilty and ashamed of my behavior.

he bellowed, the raw power of his voice echoing through the darkness, sending shockwaves through the air. My own voice quivered, a fragile thread of sound that struggled to find its footing amidst the chaos of the moment. "Th-that, I th-think I pressed it, mistakenly," I stammered, my words hanging in the air like a fragile confession, barely audible above the tumultuous symphony of emotions that surrounded us.

" Umm... Let me think... What about, You say by Lauren Daigle? " " Why do you choose that? " " Well, since I enjoyed the book you summarized for me and you told me that the writer of the book is feeling not good enough. Why don't you sing You say in dedication to her? So she can believe more in herself? " " Wow! That's good reasoning! " " Thought so too. " " Okay, 3-2-1. " " I keep fighting voices in my mind that says I am not enough. Every single lie that tells me I'll never measure up.