Blind Voices (g/t)

One

Memories were vivid for him. It was easy to picture the past, how everything looked and felt, how people acted and how their expressions changed.

The past was always there, what had already happened would never change. It was both a blessing and a curse. He could clearly remember what his mother looked like, how his father's hair fell in his eyes when he smiled and looked down at him. He could relive those moments when everything was much simpler, when he had a bright, colorful future.

But that didn't last as long as it should have.

The happy boy he had once been, loving and cheerful, was now a shadow. He wasn't the same, not after everything that happened.

It had been four years. The time had passed relatively quickly. For most, the days would blur together; but not for him. He could remember every sound and smell, every moment of darkness and loneliness. He could remember what he'd said to people, harsh words he could never take back, the pain he's caused others and himself. Even if the passage of time was a mystery, the moments he'd lived were all too clear.

Which is why he turned to music.

The quiet rhythms filled his room, his playlist extremely diverse. Sometimes he would lay in his bed and listen to calm, classical music, and other days he would sit and listen to loud, booming songs where people would shout and yell to express emotions.

Today, he sat back as deep bass and rhythmic tomes played. It reminded him of adventurers and their journeys, of dragons and damsels in distress. He imagined that he was a warrior, sent to retrieve a stolen artifact. His imagination had always been as vivid as the memories he kept.

The crisp, fall air blew in through his window and danced across his skin, chilling him to the bone. But he wouldn't close the window; the frigid air made him feel more alive.

"Elias, come down!" His father's voice echoed. Elias thought for a moment. He could just pretend to not hear the voice calling to him, but that wouldn't do much good. Instead, he clicked the remote and paused his music, standing and gliding out the door with ease.

For the first few days, he had to run his hand along the slightly rough wall to figure out where he was going. Now his feet led him by memory, across the hall and down the wooden stairs. They creaked with every step. His father had asked him once if he wanted to move his room downstairs, so he could move about with greater ease, but since it meant being closer to people, Elias had declined. He had no desire to be around others. He hated their sympathy. "Here, let me get that." They'd say. "Let me do that, let me help." He didn't need their sympathy, and he certainly didn't need to feel more pathetic.

Elias walked into the kitchen, waiting for George to notice his presence. His father did and promptly spoke up.

"Your mother is on the phone."

Elias frowned. His mom?

"I don't want to talk to her." Elias grumbled. He could imagine his father giving him a look of frustration.

"She said she wanted to speak to you, though." George insisted. He just didn't understand Elias; why wouldn't he just talk to his own mother? "I know you feel like she abandoned you, but you need to talk to her sometime. To work things out."

Elias scoffed; he didn't want to hear this crap. "There's nothing to work out. When I went blind, she just changed. She left us. Don't you see, Dad? When I needed her most, she wasn't there. I don't want to talk to her."

His father looked from his son, and then back at the phone. George wasn't happy with his wife's decision either. He couldn't change how his son reacted to the events in his life. He put the phone down, Elias seeming a little calmer once he'd heard the tap of it hitting the countertop.

"Can I go back to my room now?" Elias muttered.

His father almost nodded before he caught himself. "Y-..Yes.."

Elias spun sharply on his heel, making his way back up the staircase, to his very familiar room. He sat back down, the music on nearly full volume.

Hoping the sound would distract him from his racing mind and surfacing memories.

Hoping the noise would stop the feeling of tears running down his cheeks.

Wishing his family could be what they were four years ago.

Four years...

- -

Aerin sprinted along the interior of the wall. Since the noise had ceased, she'd deemed it a good time to run back to her little home. She'd need to hurry, because the moment the boy turned on his stereo, she'd be rendered almost useless.

She had made the mistake of leaving her earmuffs back at her home when she went to get more food; so before she could make it back to her cozy home in the wall, she was bombarded with the ear splitting music the boy almost constantly played. For all Aerin knew, she could've been going deaf or something.

She made it into her room within minutes, behind the large bookcase in Elias's room. With a sigh of relief, she snatched her carefully created earmuffs and put them around her neck, ready for whenever the next tsunami of noise would be.

She tiptoed out into the shelf, peering out into the giant room to keep watch. Predictably, he stormed into his room loudly and she slipped the muffs over her ears. Just as he had many times before, the giant teenager felt for the remote and turned the music back on at full blast. The noise still sometimes hurt her ears a little, but the muffs helped significantly. She paused a moment, watching him lower onto his bed once more. He seemed distressed..

But that wasn't for Aerin to worry about. Even though the blind boy couldn't see her, she was in fact out in the open, and she couldn't take the chance that he would find her.

She knew what happened when humans found creatures such as her.

She scampered back through the crack in the bookshelf, the noise getting a little bit more muffled.

She took into account what she'd gathered from her 'hunt', and put things where they belonged. She hoped that Elias would be going to sleep soon, so that she could sleep without the loud music, but it didn't seem like he was going to be turning it off any time soon. She sighed; it would be better if she'd just move, but at the same time his room was the least likely place to be found. After all, he couldn't even see.

With a resigned look on her face, she moved to sit on her makeshift bed, leaning against the wall.

It was going to be a long night.