Seeing Sound Novels & Stories

Even the weak light of the moon might as well be the sun. I hear a crashing sound in my ears. It'd like the footsteps of a great beast. Thump. Thump. Thump. Rhythmic, powerful, pumping like the pistons of a enormous machine. It's only later that I realise that that's my heartbeat. I can hear … everything. The beat of a butterflies wings. The creaking sound a moonlily makes as it pushes its shoot out of the earth. The scratching of claws as a forest hawk tightens its grip against a tree branch. Every sound presses against me, textured and layered, worlds within worlds.

Silence is not an absence for me; it is a texture. It is the rhythmic thrum of the refrigerator against the floorboards, the sharp vibration of a slammed car door echoing through my heels, and the pressurized stillness of a house at midnight. I have been deaf since birth, navigating a world of visual cues and tactile feedback. I don’t know what a voice sounds like, but I know what fear feels like—it is a cold, static hum in the center of my chest.

I said softly under my breath. For a moment, I thought I heard her voice, but as I scanned the first, it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I knew something was wrong, but the feeling was worse now. I slowed down a bit as my instincts led me. I noticed subtle movement ahead. Before I could fully process it, my body reacted instantly. I stood completely still, and I tried to listen more carefully. Then I heard another sound, and it was a bit closer now. Without thinking twice, I moved toward the sound.

He could only hear the sound. -

It seems like reality has been quieted, I literally can't hear anything, not even my own breathing. "It's an anxiety attack," says my inner gathering, trying to clear up the absence of sound introduced by my eardrums. I'm going to agree with him when there's something out of nowhere, a commotion... no. It's something different, something I can't comprehend or perceive, yet that somehow makes me start running towards the pools.

I can pick up his heartbeat in a crowd… there’s something so intimate and intense about this. Focusing back on my surroundings I can hear how each blade of grass moves against the other in the breeze. I can hear the animals moving in the forest. Now I focus a little harder, tuning out everything around me and focusing only in front of me. I can hear the machine starting up. I can hear the vibrations of it, the motor and even the sound of the balls being fed through and then I can hear the sound of a projectile cutting through the air. I can hear and feel it coming towards my right shoulder, so I quickly twist my body out of its path. I can hear and feel as the ball whizzes past me and hits t

“One more. You’re doing great, Rae.” “And… and sweat.” “Okay. Give me four things you hear.” I trained my ears out onto the world, locking on to the sounds. “I hear your car engine.” Michael snickered. “All right. Good one. Three more.” “I hear your classical music turned down. And your tires on the road.” “One more. You can do it.” I drew in my first steady breath as the sound hit my ears. “I still hear the sirens behind us.” Michael paused. “Three things you taste.”

She heard something click and what followed next was the ear-deafining screams coming from different angles. The sound of a woman screaming stopped her breath. That was enough to throw her into a turmoil. She heard the same click sound and all the screaming disappeared. Wait, the room was soundproof? His shoe clicked on the floor as he resumed walking around her.

The forest beckoned a dark sanctuary where I felt most alive. As I moved deeper into the woods, my senses heightened. The world around me thrummed with sound. I could hear the rustle of leaves, the soft scurrying of small creatures, and the rhythmic beating of hearts. Each sound resonated within me, sharp and clear, allowing me to navigate this labyrinth of trees with impeccable precision. This new world of sound was intoxicating, each heartbeat echoing a story, a life, a presence.

He then made the same sort of sound but in a deeper tone, a sound that was more easing to my ears, like a note from a cello. But within the next second, I heard a rumbling thunder signaling the arrival of a storm and felt a wave of dizziness. I wondered if the frequency of this sound surpassed the range of what human ears could withstand. I even suspected that prolonged exposure to sounds like this could damage my hearing and my auditory nerves.