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Jane stared down at the box Mischa had so tirelessly carried over to the main area with the blank expression she always had. It didn't seem very special. It had a bunch of wrapped things in it. Looking up, she was even more confused when she saw the rest of the choir ecstatic at the discovery.
“Oh my god! Mischa, wh- how- how did you find perfectly preserved food here!?” Noel practically yelled at Mischa. If the choir hadn’t known better, they would’ve thought he was mad at him.
Jane did not know better. She automatically bowed her head and tensed, bracing for… something. She didn’t really know what. A lot of times she wished she had the memories to back up her muscle memory. Once she looked up and realized Noel was smiling, her muscles unclentched slightly. Slightly.
“Oh! Oh! Is that a Moon Pie? I haven’t had one of those in, like, forever!” Constance hastily scooped up a couple Moon Pies in her hand and continued to survey the box. The rest of the choir also began to pull out foods they enjoyed from the box. Only Ocean hesitated, muttering something about it being “processed junk” before stopping and darting for a Mars bar. Noel proceeded to snicker and banter with her on her hypocrisy.
Jane stood staring at the box in front of her. Her hand trembled as she went and tentatively grabbed a random bar. It was a rectangle with mostly brown packaging that had a big logo on the front. Snickers? It seemed okay. She didn’t really want to eat it, but how could she not? The rest of the choir was eating, she should just go join them.
Jane slowly moved towards the circle the choir got into naturally by this point. They were all smiling and waving at her, waiting for her to start eating. She didn’t wanna eat. She had to.
She hesitantly sat down and stared at each member of the choir one by one, before slowly looking down at her Snickers. She read the white label on the back that she assumed were ingredients. She didn’t recognize any of the words, and even if she did, she’s not sure she could have pronounced any of them. Why was the choir so excited for this?
Ricky cleared his throat, “Let’s eat now that we’re all here!” The infinite warehouse erupted with the sound of wrappers scraping open all at once. Jane tensed, a familiar sense of dread woven so deep into her soul it was transported with her to the afterlife. She didn’t know how she should react, what she should do, when she didn’t even know what was wrong. All she knew was she didn’t wanna be there.
That’s when she heard it.
Crunch.
The sound bounced around her skull, clamping her esophagus shut and squeezing her heart as tight as it could. It was horrible. The sound didn’t leave like a crash or a yelp did. No, it stayed in her skull, pulsing against her brain with no remorse. Had the others heard it as well?
She heard it again. Crunch. It was closer. Louder. Crunch. The sound slowly devolved into a mushing sound, which was almost worse. The repeating squelch noise went on for longer before it was trapped inside her head. She looked around her, expecting to see the terrified faces of the choir mirroring hers. What she saw was much worse.
They were doing it. The horrible crunch was coming from the various versions of bars, while the never-ending squelches were from the softer, more pastry-like items. The choir was making the noises. How were they not dying? Shit- was Mischa looking at her?
“D’you need help with the wrapper?” Mischa’s mouth was full of food, some of it escaping while he talked. Jane was repulsed. They were so casual. They weren’t freaking out. She was just being weird. So, with shaky hands and strained breaths, she handed the bar in her hand to Mischa. He gave her a quizzical look before starting to fiddle with the plastic. Jane didn’t care. She didn’t fucking care! She wanted to leave! God everyone was chewing and talking and no one cared- why did no one care!?
Jane felt a tap on her arm and jolted over to see Mischa holding her now opened Snickers to her. She wordlessly took it and stared at it. She didn’t want to eat it. She didn’t wanna be here. She could feel the choir's stares trained on her. She had to eat it, had to stay with the choir. How weird would it be if she left the entire choir for something no one else noticed? She brought the Snickers up to her mouth. It was fine. It was the equivalent of 4 bites anyway. She could handle that. She took a bite.
SNAP. CRUNCH. SQUELCH. CRUNCH. SQUELCH. Not only did it echo in her mind, but her entire body. Jane felt it hit her teeth and travel down her spinal system, bouncing in her muscles and digging into her bones. She had to leave. She had to. Get up. Get up. GET UP RIGHT NOW.
Her legs wouldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t move. Nothing was working. She had to listen to the deafening SQUELCHES surrounding her. She couldn’t escape it, not here at least. The sounds clouded her mind. She hated that cloud so much.
“Jane? Are you okay? You don’t have to eat it if you don’t enjoy it.” Constance, the ever observant one, must have noticed her distress. The whole choir looked at her, but didn’t stop chewing. Why wouldn’t they stop chewing? God, she would do anything to stop it. Just, stop it, stop it, STOP IT.
“STOP IT! PLEASE, JUST STOP!” Finally, Jane felt like she had some semblance of control over her body. Immediately, her hands flew to her porcelain head. She found her ears and covered them as much as she could. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut as well and prayed that would be enough for the sound to stop.
“What?”
“What do you mean stop?”
“Jane, what’s going on?” All 5 voices of the other members started hurling questions and comforting statements at her. She could still hear them. And the squelches. They were still there. They were still tormenting her. Was the choir doing it on purpose by this point? Why didn’t they care? How did they not feel any of this? Jane’s body was almost physically hurting.
“THE FOOD! STOP IT, STOP IT, PLEASE!” She continued to shout pleas out to the abyss, but they were muffled as she started to sob and her body curled in on itself. The external sounds of crunching stopped shortly after her vocal outburst, but that did little to console the crying doll. The sounds were still playing in her head.
The choir was murmuring above her. Through her hands, she could hear them. Their mouths didn’t sound full anymore, but they were still talking. About her. Was this finally the moment? Were they going to finally exile her like they wanted to on their first day here?
The choir walked away. Every single one. Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? They saw how she was acting and were done with her. Simple as that. The thought made her sob a little harder somehow, her frame shaking violently with each cry. The constant stream of inky black tears showed no sign of stopping, and wouldn’t for a while. She was pathetic, and the choir knew that now.
Jane felt something soft on her shoulders. It was heavy as well, providing her with a weight similar to a hug. She recognized it immediately. It was her favorite blanket. The choir had found it in a box filled with different blankets, and Jane had all but claimed it from then on. The choir didn’t seem to mind, at least. But why was it here now?
She looked up hesitantly, only to see Noel sitting about two feet away from her. His hands were visible in his lap, and in them were a pair of headphones. Not the big, over the ear ones, but the small ones that go inside your ears. They were Jane’s, the ones she found a little after they got here. She loved them. Why did Noel have them?
“Heya. I think I know what’s going on, do you want your headphones?” Noel spoke softly and held out his hand with the headphone case in it. He went on to explain, “The choir went off to finish their food away from here. Was that what you wanted?”
“… Yes.”
“I assumed.” Jane looked at Noel and hesitantly took the headphones. She opened the case and put the headphones in with as much haste as she could muster. Her hands were still quite shaky, so it took much longer than she would’ve liked, but she did it eventually.
Jane felt… better. Not good, far from good, but better. She wasn’t angry anymore. Why was she even angry? It was some stupid sounds, it shouldn't have mattered. She sniffled and tried to wipe the inky tears off her face. It was to no avail, but at least she tried.
“You look a little better, can you talk?” Noel’s voice was muffled, but still audible.
Jane tried, but all that came out was a small squeak. Besides, the thought of speaking right now was too big to bear at the moment. So, slightly ashamed, she signed, “no.”
Noel nodded and smiled slightly, “Do you want to sign about what you were feeling earlier?”
Jane was slightly taken aback. She always forgot Noel, along with the rest of the choir, had picked up ASL while trapped here. Still, she was grateful for it. She was able to describe how she felt in the moment in detail without speaking. Noel nodded along somberly, but he didn’t seem surprised.
“Yea, that’s what I thought was happening. I think you have Misophonia. It’s a neurological condition where repetitive sounds, such as chewing, can make the person irrationally angry and panicked. Does that sound about right?”
Something lit in Jane’s brain. Something that went far back into memories she could never unlock. That was her. She had Misophonia. Sure, it sucked, but god she felt good thinking about it. That word, there was a name for it. And Noel knew about it, so it must’ve been real. That was her. That was a part of her identity. The identity she was building slowly back.
Remembering Noel had asked her about her thoughts, she nodded vigorously.
She saw the choir out of the corner of her eye. With some help from Noel, she would explain to them what she discovered. In some morbid way, she was excited to tell them. She had found a part of herself. And she would finally share it with the choir.
Finally share her identity with them. Who she really was.