Two people with slightly the same problem fall in love through letters. Thank you Therapy.

Credit goes to Meagan for the idea.


1. Ryan POV- Voiceless

Chapter One



"So... Ryan? Is that your name?"  The speech therapist asked, looking at me kindly while turning to a fresh page in his notebook and leaning back in the grey chair.

I nod politely, trying to tell him with my eyes that yes, that was indeed my name. He seemed to get it, smiling slightly the man extended his hand out to me.

"I am Dr. William Ross, its a pleasure to meet you" he said smiling warmly, brown eyes glowing with enthusiasm. 

 I nod, shaking his hand, biting my lip nervously, I quietly take my pencil out and scribbling a quick greeting on my notepad. He waited patiently for me to finish.


 Nice to meet you too.


I turned the pad to face him, he nodded in acknowledgement slowing talking note of something as he spoke.

"Ryan, you're 16 correct?" He asked, he continued to take notes as I took out my pre-made yes and no cards. 

He continues to bombard me with questions, about my life and hobbies, friends... Things I hadn't thought about in a long time. Things I didn't have.

Finally he got to the one I had been waiting for. That one question everyone wonders but are too afraid to ask me.

"Do you miss your voice? Do you remember?" he said softly.

I take a minute to think about this, looking out his office window briefly wondering if maybe I'll find my answer on a passing cloud.

The truth is I don't remember what my voice used to sound like, I imagine very masculine... 

Well you know, as manly as a 8 year old boy with throat cancer can sound. If you ask my parents they'd say I was very soft spoken, the funny thing is that, well... I don't even remember talking. How can you miss something you can't remember? 

I shrug,  looking over at Dr. Ross holding up my pad.

I don't remember much about it.

He nods, turning to a new page in his examination of Ryan book. 

I try my best to ignore the scribbling sounds of his pen on paper, choosing to look out the window again.

Thinking back to his question, I guess its hard to remember a time when you didn't have to carry a notepad around. I don't mind it much anymore, with pre-written notes and messages it doesn't take much time to tell people what I want. They always seem to get the general idea. And me?

Well I don't complain much. Some people are always going to be rude, I try not to let their impatient sighs and eye rolls bother me. They act as if my problem is theirs, trust me it's not.

I look over at Dr. Ross, his pen still moving fluidly against the pad as he writes his notes about me, his eyes lift briefly and meet mine, searching... Almost as if he thought that if he looked long enough I might cave in and speak.

He wishes it were that simple.

I do too.

I have a hard time communicating, most times my thoughts aren't understood completely and out of pure laziness and lack of motivation I often find myself just giving up on trying to get my point across and opting for just ignoring you. It's nothing personal, I just get tired. 

I guess that worries parents were frightened I wasn't 'handling the situation properly' or 'expressing myself' enough so instead of trying to sit down with me, they decide its somebody else's problem. 

And that brings us to my current situation... me sitting in this damn uncomfortable leather chair listening to some man sit there and document everything that is wrong with me in his little book. I look around the room, my eyes settling on the dusty book shelf for some reason. I wonder if they are fake books, hollowed out books with candy bars in them. I resist the urge to go and take a closer look.

A bell suddenly rings, startling me out of my thoughts, Dr. Ross chuckles,

"That's are 10 minute warning. That means our session will be over soon." He puts his hand over his heart dramatically as if it physically pains him. I give him a small smile.

"But before you go..." He gets up from his chair and walks around to his desk. On it I can see a stack of notebooks piled up high, he takes one off the top and comes back to hand it to me.

"My patients and I have a sort of 'support system'" he held up his hands making quotation marks in the air as he spoke, "I like to give each person a note book. I call it a discussion book. In it you write a small introduction of yourself and your situation. When you are done with that you can write whatever you want" he smiles at me.

"Then next week you come back and give it to me, I will personally choose someone for you to trade notebooks with each week. You guys will give each other advice on how to handle what each of you are going through." 

I frown slightly, the thought of him reading through my life story didn't amuse me, but I nod agreeing as I get up and collect my things.

I was just about to walk out the door, when he called out to me. I turned back to look at him giving him my full attention.

"And Ryan" he looked directly at me, " I never read those entries, they are just for you and your partner."

I nod again, feeling relief wash over me. I turn to leave abruptly and almost walk straight into a pretty girl as I did. I looked into her teal eyes and blushed over my own stupid clumsiness.

She bit her lip, nodding for me to continue walking, her light brown hair falling in her face as she did. 

I continue walking, still slightly embarrassed. 

I wonder who she's partnered with...



a/n: Hey guys it's Jack, Lexi and I will be switching off between chapters. I will write the male perspective of a mute boy and Lexi the perspective of the selectively mute girl.


Tell us if you like it?

Thanks to Meagan for letting us borrow the idea. 

I am also aware that another writer is doing a story that is similar LittleMissFandoms, she's an awesome writer so I'd go check hers out too.

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