Saving My Broken Mute Novels & Stories

I had become a broken vessel, shattered and discarded, just like the windows of my soul. As I stood there, swaying on unsteady feet, I couldn't help but feel like a mere pile of mud, trampled on by the world around me. My spirit was fractured, my hope shattered. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of pain, a flicker of defiance remained. A small voice whispered, "Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to piece myself back together."

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From me. My fingers tightened further without conscious decision. The glass in my other hand slipped and shattered on the floor, but I did not look down. My focus remained on the phone. “You do not become unavailable to me,” I muttered under my breath, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. The phone creaked slightly under pressure. Plastic bending. A sm all crack near the corner. I barely registered it. The word echoed one last time in my mind. Unavailable. My hand closed fully.

Blake sat in the car and watched Jessica's car leave with a heavy gaze. Although he had ordered Joe to investigate her throat, it would take him a long time to find out because of her operation in other places. However, Joe asked the experts about whether it was possible for a mute to recover. The experts explained that one was limited by the medical conditions at that time, and the other was for a special reason. Jessica's situation was likely to belong to the latter. When the Sus was still in its heyday decades ago, they had a mute daughter who would definitely cure her at all costs. How could it be that they had hidden her for decades without any news?

The 'Sequence 7' was fighting back, using my own broadcast as a weapon against my nervous system. "Julian... I can't..." I slumped against the faders, my hand accidentally sliding the 'Gain' to the maximum. Suddenly, the glass between the booths shattered. Julian had used a fire extinguisher to break through. He dived into the studio, dragging the unconscious guard behind him. He didn't look at the mixing board; he looked at me. He saw the way my eyes were rolling back, the way my skin was turning a ghostly, translucent grey.

Like I was reciting a script I’d been forced to learn. But I said them anyway. Because he’d told me not to break. Because that was the only thing I had left that still felt like mine—whether I followed through or not. My weight shifted, uneven and careful, as I tested my balance. The room swayed slightly, exhaustion pulling at me like chains, but I stayed standing. Barely. Just enough to keep from sinking back down and letting the pain win. “I won’t break,” I repeated, quieter this time, my voice steadier than I felt. “Even if I already feel shattered.”

She rose up and went to her friend, pulled her into her arms and they sat together on the bed. "You will be fine. I promise" Audrey murmured as Penny sobbed on her shoulder. "We are here for you. You will find happiness again and soon this won't hurt anymore. It will be nothing but a memory. It's the way life is, Penny. Pain is inevitable. But suffering, that's optional. You can't control bad things that happen, but you can control how they affect you. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. We have all made mistakes because we fell in love, but we don't let the bad memories ruin us, we learn from them and move on. But you will be happy again, honey. I know it. I know you will. In time you wil

So, when the house staff mistreated her, she stayed quiet. When kids mocked her for being "mute", she still smiled... but only for William. The one with aphasia? It wasn't him. It was her. To cover it up, she left him little notes: [Wil, school's way more fun. I'll just stay for summer, okay? Take care of yourself!] [Wil, I made a new friend today! Best day ever!] [Wil, I learned how to make cupcakes! Left them in the fridge—don't forget to eat!]

" I do not know how. Do not know what to do. Do not know how to fix what I just broke. All I know is that I just lost her. And this time it might be permanent.

“But the recording was my best chance. If it does not work, we lose everything.” The door downstairs banged loud. Voices shouted outside. Havisham’s men had found us. Liam stood up fast. “Stay here,” he said. “I will handle them. Keep working on that file.” He stepped out, I heard fighting sounds. My fingers stayed on the phone. The recovery reached ninety percent. Then it stopped, error again. The file stayed broken. I tried to open the audio. Only static played now. Nothing clear about the murder. “No, no,” I cried soft. Tears fell on the screen. I backed up what remained but it was useless. The full confession had vanished.