Not The Long Walk

My writing group came up with the prompt/theme: ‘Voice.’ As I wrote this short, I realized we all have a voice. Speak Up.

The world became a dull roar to me, a constant hum of indistinct noise. I moved through it at home, at work, and at play. I was a ghost, unheard, unacknowledged. My thoughts, my feelings, my very presence felt muted, swallowed by the static of life. At times I’d try to speak, to share an idea, to simply exist, but my words would dissolve, never quite reaching anyone. It was if I were illiterate, unable to broadcast my voice loud enough to cut through the daily grind.

Then came the night of the storm. The wind howled and the city lights flickered, threatening to plunge everything into darkness. I felt like a small child, lost and terrified. Instead of singing in the rain, I cried out in terror. In that moment, something changed within me. I found a strength I hadn’t known I possessed. I reached out, not with my body, but with my mind, and that seemed to cut through the gale. The child in me became a man and looked up at the source of the unexpected calm.

My thoughts, no longer confined, projected a warmth, a guiding light. “It’s okay,” the silent message resonated, “You’re safe, you should always be yourself.” The man…me, was soaked but no longer felt alone. I began to gravitate towards others. My voice, not one of words, but intent, focused on positive energy. I found my way. I realized then that a voice isn’t just words, it’s you being yourself around others. It’s your unique personality. Once you find it, you will be heard, even in the loudest room.