Silent Voice

Chapter 15 - Lost

Claire has managed to make her way into a plaza. Her bare feet, blackened with dirt, sting from slapping against the pavement at such a fast pace. A fountain gushes water, splashing over glittering coins. A man in blue sits on a bench, smoking. A businesswoman talks on her phone. A woman talks to a preteen boy, who is probably her son.

Claire looks up at the bright sky. She hears birds. Leaves rustle in the breeze.

She's far away from her mom. She's safe now. But... she has no idea where she is. Better text Dad. He can track her phone and come pick her up.

Claire reaches for her pockets. But the dress has no pockets.

She doesn't have her phone.

Her dad can't track her. She can't text him. And she can't speak at all.

She can't speak! How is she supposed to communicate? How can she ask for help? And... her dad has no way of knowing that she's okay.

She has to be strong. She can get through this. Even if she can't speak verbally, she might be able to get someone to help her.

The businesslady says "goodbye" and hangs up the phone. Maybe Claire can speak to her now. This is her chance!

Claire walks up to the lady. She takes a deep breath, and remembers her speech practice. Summoning all her concentration, she says "Aaiyaaalaaa."

Wait, that didn't sound remotely like "I am lost."

"What's wrong with you?" asks the lady.

"Aaa," says Claire.

The lady sniffs the air. "Well, you don't SMELL drunk. Do you have special needs or something?"

Claire nods. "Aaa!" Now we're getting somewhere!

Claire just needs a phone. Then she can type what's going on. She reaches for the lady's pocket.

"NO!" says the lady, like she's scolding a toddler.

"Faaa?" says Claire, hoping the word will sound like "phone."

The lady sighs. "Look, I don't have time to deal with this. Go find your mom, understand. Your MOM. MOM. Got it?"

The lady walks away. That didn't work.

Claire walks back to the fountain, where the guy is smoking. It smells bad, but... if it can get her to her dad, it's worth a try, right?

Claire walks closer, and falls into a coughing fit. Ugh! A hypersensitive nose and cigarette smoke are NOT a good match!

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, then starts coughing again. Breathing deeply was a mistake!

"You need something?" says the guy, looking irritated.

Claire summons up her best speaking abilities. "Aaaiyaaa."

"What are you, r*tarded?"

Seriously? He's really going to say that word to the face of a disabled person?

Maybe... maybe he doesn't know better. Some people don't know that the r-word refers to people with disabilities. It felt like a slap across the face, but she should let it go. She breathes in.

AUGH! Claire starts coughing again. WHY DOES SHE KEEP TAKING DEEP BREATHS?

Try again, try again. "Aaaaiyaaalaaa," Claire manages to say. Maybe that could be construed as "I am lost."

"Seriously, are you literally r*tarded?" asks the man. "You got some kinda defect?"

Okay, Claire isn't, like, a broken factory product. She's not in the mood for pointless slurs and insults. So she walks away.