Words Are Strong, But Silence Is Stronger {Tom}

♚ When I lost my ability to speak, I lost the power to even introduce myself to someone or give a simple compliment when I saw fit. I couldn't give my condolences to the families of the fallen tributes each year. I couldn't speak to the victor on the victory tour, either. It seems that, to this day, Woody is the only one who really knows how to communicate with me. We've developed our own sort of sign language, as that seems to be the only thing that works.

When I started to lose my ability to speak, my voice becoming weaker and weaker, Woody and I knew that it would eventually be completely gone. Therefore, we started to come up with meanings for different gestures and signs so that he would know what I wanted to say when it eventually got to the point that I wouldn't be able to say it anymore. It was really quite a shame, losing my voice. It was extremely difficult to deal with at first, but I suppose that I've started to get used to it. I still don't like not being able to communicate with people very easily, though.

Usually, I tend to keep a notepad and a pen with me, so that I can write things down if it's something really important that I need someone to know but can't quite get it across in any other way. I generally either have it tucked under my arm or slid into the drawstring bag that I like to carry with me. Luckily, I don't have to use it all too often, as people don't often try to talk to me when I'm out and about. There is the occasional person, however, that does try to communicate with me, and I make my best attempt to do so in return. Not having the ability to speak, however, can be quite difficult and stressful. It really makes me feel bad for the avoxes who had their tongues cut out, even if it was done because they were criminals.

I'm one of the few people in the Districts that I feel can truly understand how difficult it is to live without speech, even if you get used to it over time. No matter how long I'm muted for, I'm sure that it will remain a challenge. At least avoxes still have vocal chords. They can scream or laugh. They can make other sounds that don't require a tongue. I, however, can't do that. My vocal chords have deteriorated completely. I can't laugh or scream anymore, no matter how much I wanted to.

I can remember the last time I laughed rather vividly. Woody had told me a really funny joke, and I laughed for a couple minutes solid. I wish I could still laugh at his jokes. He's quite funny. I can even remember laughing the one time that he found a snake in his boot. I helped him get it out, of course, but we were both laughing about it after the fact.

Today was yet another day of my silence when I headed out of the house. I walked down the street, stopped at the bakery, bought some bread and wandered over to the park to sit on a bench. I put the bread in my bag so that I could bring it home to the family, as I wasn't going to eat any right then. Sitting on the bench, I simply watched as children ran around, playing. They were laughing and whooping, chasing each other around. I remember when I could do that.

Then, I saw someone. She wasn't playing with the other kids. She was by herself, and she had gained my attention. She was a pretty girl who looked to be around my age, but I couldn't tell her that I thought she was pretty. I couldn't really tell anyone anything at this point in my life. I really wished I could have, right then, though. I'm not sure exactly what crossed my mind in that moment, but I rose from the bench and approached her. I tapped on her shoulder when she was turned away from me, and I gave a smile, hoping that she'd know I was being friendly.