…

  "No voices."

  …

  "No sound."

  The world is filled with silence.

  A baby, unable to hear or speak, lies in a crib, reaching out toward the woman before her. As if understanding the silent plea, the woman lifts the child into her arms. The baby’s world remains untouched by sound—an existence wrapped in quiet.

  Then, suddenly, darkness begins to creep in from the corners of the room. Shadows grow, swallowing the dim candlelight one by one. With each inch the darkness advances, an eerie, rough noise grows louder in the baby's ears—a sound that should not exist in a world of silence.

  The mother lifts the baby higher. In her arms, the noise fades, replaced by a soft, soothing melody. The baby gazes at her mother’s face as she speaks, her lips moving, forming words the child cannot hear—before she, too, is devoured by the darkness.

  A sharp breath. The baby's little eyes fly open. She sits up in bed, her tiny chest heaving as if escaping the grip of a nightmare.

  Her mother is there, watching with concern. A single tear glistens on the child’s cheek. Gently, the woman brushes it away with her thumb and pulls her into a warm embrace.

  A moment later, the mother rises and leaves the room. The child waits, the air thick with quiet anticipation. She reaches for her plushie—a brown bunny stitched from old scraps of cloth—and hugs it tightly.

  When her mother returns with a cup of water, she offers it with a reassuring smile. The child drinks, then nods, satisfied. The woman pats her head, sits beside her, and playfully tickles her. Laughter—silent, but full of joy—fills the space between them. The child collapses onto the bed, and the woman follows, holding her close. As she gently strokes the child’s hair, the girl clutches her bunny, her small fingers gripping it as sleep takes her once more.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Morning arrives. Sunlight filters through the window, casting a golden glow over the room. The child stirs, stretching in the mess of blankets and tangled hair. She hugs her bunny before climbing out of bed and making her way downstairs.

  She finds her mother sitting in the living room, reading a paper—her expression bright with barely contained excitement. The young girl rushes to her, wrapping her arms around her in an embrace. Her mother startles for a moment before relaxing, chuckling softly as she pats the child’s head.

  After breakfast, they prepare for the day ahead. Bathing, dressing, packing—though today, something feels different. There’s an air of excitement lingering in the house. The child notices a piece of paper resting nearby, covered in unfamiliar symbols. She cannot read or write, but she understands her mother’s joy.

  Her mother is a loom maker and a shepherdess, traveling weekly to sell their goods. Today, they prepare once more, gathering silk, cloth, and other products to load onto a cart.

  Their home sits on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by open plains and bordered by a dense forest. Each day, the child has glimpsed something in the woods—a faint, flickering light that vanishes in an instant. But today, the forest is still.

  They set off to their neighbor’s house, where an old man in a straw hat smokes a cigar by his cart. The moment he notices them, he quickly hides the cigar. His face softens into a smile—it’s her uncle. He speaks, though the child cannot hear, and she runs into his embrace. He lifts her with ease, placing her in the cart before helping her mother load their goods.

  Soon, they depart for the city.

  Upon arrival, the uncle drops them off at various customers before taking them to the market. The mother holds her daughter's hand as they wander through the bustling streets, shopping for clothes, snacks, and fresh ingredients. The child marvels at the city—it has always been a place of wonder, but today, it feels even more alive. Though she hears nothing, she sees the joy on people’s faces, the excitement of children running past.

  Then, she notices something unusual.

  A group of children and their parents gather near a large tent. Her mother lets go of her hand for just a moment, stepping toward the entrance. A man stands there, waiting for something. The girl tilts her head, puzzled.

  Before she can question it, she catches a glimpse of the stage inside. A performer stands at its center, flames dancing in their hands—twisting, morphing into the shape of a squirrel. The creature scurries along the performer’s arm before shifting again, its form melting into that of a bird.

  The child’s eyes widen in awe.

  Her uncle places a hand on her head, gently ruffling her hair. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small coin and handing it to the man at the entrance. A silent invitation.

  She steps forward, crossing the threshold into a world of wonders.