Chapter Text
Cry laid in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears burned in his eyes but he refused to let them go. He didn't want to seem weaker than he already was. Part of him didn't want to believe anything -- that it was all some sick joke. He was only seventeen. His whole life was supposed to be anything he wanted, but now it just felt as if everything had been ripped from him. He shut his eyes and tried to swallow the stinging in his throat. He needed to say something -- anything -- just to prove he could. "I..." It was a struggle just to say that. He practically had to force it out of himself. "I... c-ca..." A coughing fit stole whatever sound there was left. The tears began to spill out by themselves; from the harshness of the coughs and the frustration of a lost voice.
"I can!" Cry screamed in his head. "I can! I can! I know I can! I always have! Please... Just let me speak."
But the truth was that he couldn't. Whether it was the physical damage or the psychological torment, no one was sure, but the fact remained that Cry couldn't speak. There was a chance he couldn't ever speak for the rest of his life. A voice that was so kind and caring, lost to the world for good. Cry's sobs racked his body. His breathing was constricted and it sounded rather painful, almost as if he was choking.
Someone knocked on the door. Cry hastily wiped his tears away. He tried to say, "Come in." but all that escaped his lips was forced air. The visitor opened the door as if they were cautious with what was on the other side. It was Cry's sister. She looked sad but immediately brought up a smile. Cry could tell it was forced, but he appreciated the effort. "How are you feeling?" She asked.
Cry sighed. He felt like absolute shit. Of course, he didn't want to tell his sister that. It's not like he could anyway, so instead he just shrugged. His sister frowned a bit. She walked up to him and sat down in the stiff chair by his bed. "You know," she started after a moment of silence. "When you were little, you used to be afraid of thunder. You would cry and hide under the covers and refuse to leave your room. You hardly said a word, you were so scared. But the storms would pass and then you'd start talking again. You'd act as if nothing happened. You eventually got over your fear and now you can talk through thunderstorms no problem."
Cry wanted to ask why she was telling him that, but he couldn't. His sister seemed to read into his confusion so she continued. "My point is, no matter how scary it might seem right now; you'll be able to get through it. Storms always pass. You just have to be patient." She smiled sweetly. Cry returned it as best as he could. He wasn't sure if he believed her words. It seemed as if his storm wasn't ever going to pass.