Page 14 of Deafened By Silence
On the other hand, I feel myself relax. I could sit and watch the rain all day, the cleansing of the earth resonating in ways I can’t put into words. I wish I could cleanse myself just as easily, washing away all of the bad I’ve done and the pain I’ve caused. I grip the edges of the rowing machine, fingers flexing as though they need something more to hold onto.
Damn, I need to get my head straight. Pushing upright, I head towards the weight benches as a distant thud pulls me from the lull. At first, I believe it to be a noise lost to the rain. Then another comes, and another, pads and mats being thrown to the ground. A squeal of sneakers against slick rubber and an eruption of excited voices ricochets off the walls. I turn back, a frown pulling my brow tight.
Despite knowing I’m not in the JDC anymore, any sudden commotion has my fists clenching, setting my instincts on high alert. A pack of bodies explodes through the gym like they’ve been let loose from a cage. I’m assaulted by a swarm of Lycra. Dodging out the way, I reach out and catch the back of the first sweatshirt my hand comes in contact with.
“What the fuck’s going on?” I growl, dragging him backwards with more force than necessary.
“Rhys cancelled his party. Apparently there’s a new girl he’s going to initiate, ‘Hog Roast style’.” His curls bounce as he bobs excitedly, eager to join the rest of the crowd piling through the exit doors. Pulling my phone out of my sweatpants pocket, I see the alert which has sent everyone else crazy.
He’s pinned it to the fucking main newsfeed.
“Dammit!” I shout to no one in particular. Falling in with the crowd, for once, I elbow my way into the locker room and retrieve my stuff. I’ve barely pulled my sweatshirt over my head by the time I step out into the rain, my heart in my throat as I rush to get to the front of those racing towards Rhys’ frat house. The only pleasure I get is from shoving and elbowing the assholes hoping to get a front row seat to Harper’s impending torture.
All I’ve desired since setting foot on this campus is to be alone. When friends weren’t an option, I chose solidarity. Keep my head down, do Jeremy’s dreams justice and make my mom happy one last time. But I can’t leave old habits behind. I can’t leave a little mouse in the jaws of a snake. Call me her savior if that’s what she needs me to be, but my intentions are also selfish.
I’ve never needed a better excuse to finally give Wavershit exactly what he’s deserved for far too long.
Chapter Ten
I pull the textbook closer, doing everything in my power to focus on the words melting from the page. In the background, Addy is tugging on outfits, huffing in frustration and yanking them back off again. She clanks and clammers, not realizing how loud she’s dropping the hairbrush or slamming her dresser drawers.
It’s taking everything in me not to shut my cochlear implants off, but I made a promise to myself to adjust to living in a world dictated by sound. Since diving in at the deep end was an epic fail, building up slowly in the confines of my dorm room seemed like a better idea.
“What about this one?” Addy asks, a frown tugging at her mouth as she twirls for the seventh time in what must be her entire closet. I blink, startled back into the present by the rustle of skirts and the sound of fabric brushing against skin. The pile of discarded outfits behind her tells me I’ve missed most of the show, lost in the tangle of my psych textbook and the mental math of how many chapters I still have to get through before Monday.
She’s wearing a steampunk dress now. Rich purple satin at the bust, black corset cinched tight around her waist, layers oflace and leather creating an otherworldly silhouette. She looks stunning. Her lean frame carries it like she just stepped out of some dystopian fairytale.
“Yes, that one’s perfect,” I say automatically, eyes darting back to the page, but I can hear the exaggerated sigh that follows. Addy flops down beside me with all the drama of someone who knows she looks amazing and still needs reassurance.
“You say that to every outfit.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye, hiding a smile. “Are you sure you aren’t going to come to the party?”
I twist my lips, pretending to read. Addy knows my answer already. I didn’t come here to party, I came to make something of myself. Something that I would never have been able to achieve with online learning. And yes, maybe I should give myself some grace to be a normal nineteen year old, partying with my roommate. But the thought of walking into that house, of the eyes, the whispers, the snap judgements and Rhys’ cocky smile that I bent to his will, nah I think I’m good.
Giving me a little twirl, her skirt and hair shift back and forth in time with each other before she dances her way down the hall towards the bathroom. Shaking my head, I lift my book and sigh as the words blur into each other from exhaustion. I would happily curl into bed and leave this for another day, if I didn’t have an assignment due on Monday and a full weekend of revising to catch up on.
Before our door slams closed, scaring the shit out of me, noise filters in from the hallway and now that I’ve latched on, I can’t seem to ignore it. Excited chatter and music from the surrounding dorms close in, causing my shoulders to shrink inwards as if I can escape. It’s no use, and I quickly give up, jotting Addy a note.
I’ll be at the library.
Stuffing my phone, stationery, and books into my backpack, I cram my feet into my biker boots and yank a thick hoodie over my head. The leather jacket goes on last, less for warmth and more for armor. Pausing to turn off my receivers, I leave them on the dresser. That’s enough auditory practice for tonight.
Without a backward glance, in fear I’ll change my mind and flop back into bed, I close the door and head out. The wind bites as I step outside, slicing through the fabric of my hoodie like tiny knives. A sliver of crescent moon hangs above, dimmed behind a veil of clouds. I tug the hood higher and add ‘buy a decent coat’to the ever-growing mental to-do list. Back when I was home-schooled, I didn’t have to deal with freezing night air just to swap out a textbook.
I take the main path to the courtyard, keeping to public routes as much as possible. It should be safer that way, except there isn’t another soul about. Anywhere. No bodies. No movement. No flickers of phone light bouncing between brick walls. The campus is… empty. The kind of empty that makes your skin crawl.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I walk faster, my boots thudding against the stone like warning drums. The courtyard opens up ahead, swallowed by shadow and dimmer than I was expecting. Lamp posts flicker behind me, my breath fogs in front of me. Shadows appear on the edge of my vision, only to vanish when I chase them with my eyes.
I climb the wide library steps two at a time, my safe haven within arm’s reach. I’m being paranoid, I know that. My vivid imagination likes to play tricks on me. Grasping the door’s thick handle, a shadow grows across the wood. Not mine, one much taller.
Before I can whip around, before I can so much as gasp, the straps of my backpack are tugged downwards, pinning my arms at an awkward angle. At the same time, my world goescompletely dark. I twist, testing the strength pinning me in place. It doesn’t budge. I’m shoved back down the stone steps, fumbling for my footing as the heat of my breath bounces back from the material covering my face.
Dread curdles in my stomach, a useless attempt of maintaining some type of dignity making me far too compliant. I’ll blame it on the shock that’s currently seizing my brain. Is this a prank, or should I be screaming my lungs out? A tiny voice in my head provides the answer, reminding me of who threatened me earlier today.
‘You’ve just picked a side. And it’s the wrong one.’
My jaw clenches. Being two senses down, I jerk and stumble, half through panic and half from being dragged along for what seems like hours but could be mere minutes. My fingers start to tingle from their strained position, my legs as heavy as lead as I try to keep up. I don’t bother calling out, since I’m unable to hear any response I may be given. Instead I try to comply as much as possible, my mind and heart racing as fingernails bite into my upper arms.
I’m going to kill him for this. Murder him dead.
