He opened his mouth, he wanted to talk, but he couldn't. From one moment to the other he felt like as if something got pulled out of his throat. No longer he could speak, no longer he could voice his soft opinions. He never understood why people got angry at him, untill they felt something else, something deeper, they were losing him. His voice was just the first of many other things that would be gone forever if he wouldn't fight against it. And fighting against it, wasn't in his nature. He never had the courage to show himself in public, he never had the courage to ask someone for a favor, he also never had the courage to go against something. Either it could be a person, either it could be a happening, he just would let all of it happen.

His name is Wu Yifan
He is a writer.
Where his mouth stopped, his hands would continue pressing the keys, forming words and letters.
After all, he wasn't stupid.
He just couldn't speak out loud.

His roommate on the other hand was totally different.
He was loud, especially when he talked on the phone, he was always out of the house, he never seemed to be bored..
And even when he was cooking or just watching tv, everything seemed to be a lot louder then it should be.
Wu Yifan would always end up glaring at him, grabbing whatever could lower the volume and he would use that exact same object to hit the other against his head.
It was like, their little game.
It had unspoken rules and a unspoken meaning.
But somehow, Wu Yifan never got to understand why.

"You don't need sound, to be able to talk."