Speechless

         The alarm buzzes. It’s loud and jerks you from your already fading dream. You reach over to flip the clock off, but accidentally hit the snooze. Regardless, the wretched noise is gone and you are appreciative of that. The room is now silent and as you shift in a semi-attempt to lift yourself into a leaning position, you feel soft footsteps by your feet. It’s your cat on her routine for food. She stares at you, cocks her head to the side, and opens her mouth in the gesture of a meow, but remains silent. You pet her for a few minutes before begrudgingly leaving the warmth of your bed to get both you and her breakfast.
         Within the hour you’re sitting in your car sipping coffee, radio blaring, and stuck in morning traffic. Some idiot attempts to zigzag their way through the cars and horns blare. You want to get angry, but you don’t. The idiot is probably the same one from yesterday attempting the same thing. They won’t get too far. Somewhere, up the road, someone will notice the douchebaggery and will stay even with their surrounding cars out of spite.
         When you reach work your supervisor gestures he wants to speak with you. You walk over, wondering what you did now. He smiles and presents his palms at you and opens his mouth to begin speaking. His lips move and his jaw bobs up and down, but no sound comes out. You stare at him, for once not fighting the urge to watch his exuberantly moving hands. His mouth stops moving. You’re unsure as what to do or say. He raises an eyebrow at you and shrugs his shoulder and hand in question. Your eyes grow wide and your tongue moves from tooth to roof before you decide to just say okay, but when you do, your mouth moves without sound. He smiles again, claps you on the shoulder, and sends you on your way.
         You sit at your desk, thinking about the conversation. You must be tired, you decide; that’s why you missed everything he said. You put on your headset and prepare yourself for another long day on the phones. A rub of the eyes and two quick slaps to the cheeks and you call yourself good. The headset buzzes and you answer your first call and begin to state your routine greeting, but realize that no sound passes through your lips. You stop speaking halfway through the greeting and wait for the customer to speak but you hear nothing, only the low hum of a phone line. You hang up.
        Wake up dumbass, you say without sound. The woman to your right glances at you for a moment before turning back to her computer. You give her a dirty look and mutter that she should mind her own fucking business. Her lip curls in anger. Your headset buzzes again and you take the call. Once again, there’s no sound from you or the customer. You tell the customer to go to Hell if they’re going to pull this shit and hang up on them. Then you go grab yourself a drink of water.
        Three, four, five more calls. Nothing changes. The entire room is silent except for the typing of keyboards. You’re beginning to freak out. You begin to swear, your only solace that at least no one can hear you. The woman sitting next to you leaves and returns a few minutes later with your supervisor. His face is red and his mouth moves like he’s yelling at you. His hands are frozen limbs by his side. The woman sits down and smiles spitefully at you. You try to defend yourself to him, but without words, you fail miserably. He yells something else at you and his arm points towards the door. You get the hint. You need to leave.
        You stop at the store on your way home. You need cat food. The cart wheel squeaks with every turn. People walk by having mute conversations on their cellphones. You sarcastically mouth to the cashier at checkout that your day is just dandy, for the first time ever missing the insincere question. She just smiles nervously.
        In the car, you switch from CD to radio. Music plays, voices sing, but there’s nothing when it’s time for the DJ. You switch the radio off and drive home in silence. You don’t want to hear your nonexistent sing-along either. Your cat is waiting by the door when you open it, like she always is when you come home at the regular time. Her mouth opens in silent meow before she walks away, her tail flicking back and forth.
        You can’t handle the lack of your own voice so you decide to do housework. As noisily as you possibly can. The stereo blares over the vacuum. It’s loud enough to give you a headache, but the silence is worse. After a wordless dinner with your cat, you place your dishes in the dishwasher and sit at your computer checking your email and Facebook. After an hour you retreat your room for an early sleep.
        You awake to a pressure on your chest. A quick glance at the clock says it’s a few minutes past midnight. You look up to find your cat standing on your chest looking down at you. Her lips are pulled back in what appears are grin. She leans forward, her teeth inches from your face.
        “Welcome back,” she whispers.