The morning classes passed in a gentle blur.
My literature teacher always spoke with exaggerated expressions—eyebrows rising, hands sweeping, her lips shaping every word with theatrical passion. I couldn’t hear a thing, but watching her was like watching a play. Sometimes I wondered if the hearing students ever noticed how expressive she truly was… or if that was something only people like me paid attention to.
When my eyes drifted toward the window, the campus stretched peacefully beneath the winter sun. Bare trees lined the pathways, their branches webbed like delicate fingers against the pale sky. Students hurried between buildings, their breath forming tiny clouds that floated upward and vanished. From up here, everything looked small and gentle—like a scene pressed inside a snow globe.
I wondered, for the hundredth time,
Did I make the right decision coming to college?
What if I fall behind?
What if I can’t make friends?
What if the world is louder than I can handle… even in silence? Many thoughts came into my head but these thoughts passed as the day slowly did, each hour melting into the next until the final class ended.
The room grew noisy with movement. Students packed their bags, chatting as they slung coats over shoulders. I stayed seated for a moment, watching their lips form shapes I couldn’t piece together. Their laughter was all in their eyes, bright and effortless.
---
Lila tapped my shoulder gently.
“I have a group project. Will you wait for me?”
Her hands moved quickly, a small crease between her brows.
I signed back, “It’s okay. I’ll go home.”
She frowned. “Are you sure? It’ll be quick.”
I smiled to reassure her. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”
Lila hesitated, then grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.
She mouthed clearly, Text me when you get home.
I nodded with a soft smile, reading her lips easily.
Then she left, glancing back at least twice—because that’s just how she was.
Once she disappeared around the corner, I gathered my things slowly.
"Its really cold today maybe it'll snow, but if that happens i don't wanna get up the next morning.Sigh.......... "
---
I wrapped my muffler around my neck, tucked my notebook into my bag, and stepped out of the classroom.
The hallway emptied quickly. Students left in pairs or clusters, leaning into each other for warmth, voices rising and falling in conversations I couldn’t hear. I walked quietly, feeling like a single dot in a painting full of busy brushstrokes.
When I reached the campus exit, someone pushed open the door from the outside. The cold wind rushed in instantly, brushing my cheeks like icy fingertips. I shivered, clutching my scarf.
Still, I stepped out.
My breath clouded the air in soft bursts, disappearing into the pale winter sky. I puffed out another one, just to see it swirl away—it felt silly and childlike, but… comforting.
As I walked, a chill wind swept past me, cold enough to make my cheeks sting. I let out a small whimper, hugging the muffler closer. My cheeks must have been turning pink by now.
To distract myself, I thought about home.
Warm lights.
Hot tea.
Maybe helping Mom cook dinner if she wasn’t already too tired.
But then I suddenly remembered—
I had to buy something.
With a small sigh, I took a detour toward the nearby supermarket.
The moment I walked in, a wave of people greeted me—well, not sound. Just movement. The whole place buzzed with life. Shoppers weaving through aisles. Kids tugging sleeves. Friends laughing together. Cashiers calling out to customers.
But from my world, all of it looked like a silent play.
A bustling crowd wrapped in a bubble of silence..
---
I watched a group of students giggling near the snacks aisle, their shoulders bumping, their mouths bright with laughter. A man spoke animatedly on a phone, waving his free hand in the air. A couple whispered to each other, leaning close.
I wondered…
What does laughter sound like?
Isn't it strange, that how something so ordinary to others feels like a distant dream to me.?
"Sometimes the world dances to a rhythm I can’t hear…
yet somehow, I still feel its echo.”
I held a basket to my chest and thought:
"How can something be so close… and still unreachable?”
To be continued...........
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