Page 182 - creative spark 2020

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Kill four million people to regain one’s voice.
Absolutely impossible. But humiliated on a daily basis,
I thought they deserved to die.

I needed the ability back. It was mine. Mine.
“Auden,” a muffled voice called from behind the door,
meekly. It yanked me back to reality.

It was him, Liron, my right hand. I tapped some morse
code, and the door was opened.
He slipped in via the crevice between the door and its
frame, emotionless, but his eyes lit up, seeing me sitting on the
floor.

I curved up my lips into a prim grin, actually quite pleased
to see the quirkless face.

The kid was lean and tall, his features forgettable. He spoke,
“Everything is ready, we can advance to the Capital in two days.”

I tapped another set of morse code. Liron nodded and left.
Capital was tightly packed with the voiced. Though there
were some mute servants in the Capital, most mutes were exiled to
live outside in shabby shelters and eat the leftovers. Little to no
care from the authorities. So one day, I told the mutes, we must
retrieve our rights as humans.
I persuaded the mutes, stocked weaponries, and gathered
an army. A big one. I contacted everyone I could think of, my
parents’ network, my schoolmates, the old janitor I used to chat
with. Everyone.