Silent Songbird This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

March 8, 2017
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He didn't let me sing in the movie theater. My favorite song came on during the introduction and I started to hum it, a low hum, almost like a buzz. It made me smile and as I was about to lightheartedly sing the chorus he said, "stop singing, you were never very good at it anyway." I instantly stopped, a little taken aback at first that he would have the audacity to say that. I pursed my lips tightly together, my body becoming rigid. "Ok, I won't." I whispered back. My eyes locked onto the screen and my body language became standoffish, slowly pulling my hand away from his.


"Are you okay?" He questioned, realizing that I wasn't quite myself. "Yeah, just fine." I whispered. "Now watch the movie." I gave a half-smile and returned my gaze to the screen. I sang the song in my head. I still hang on every word, both the musical notes and the harsh ones he spat at me only minutes ago. We sit there for the rest of the movie and I do not make a sound. I am afraid to make any wrong movements that may be criticized.

I am afraid to sing because he doesn't let me sing in movie theaters or in car rides with the radio on. He reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers as I leave mine limp. "Tell me what's wrong" he says looking over, concerned. I look back, attempting to tell him what just went through my stream of consciousness, but no words come out. I realize he has taken the song right out of me.






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