(I've been working on this for a while, figured I'd use it for something cool. It's kinda long, but I originally intended for it to be come a full book, so I had to shorten it by a lot, so there is a bit of a time jump.)
Against All Odds: Rhythmic Passion
My name is Maya, but that’s not what I go by. I go by the name Hiroko. Why? I’m a vocalist, a quite well-known one, at that. I plan on touring Europe soon, but that was chance was ripped away, by the obnoxious tide that we are forced to call life. In one swift motion, I lost it all, with no chance of retrieval. It all started at an archery range, on my brother’s birthday.
The weather didn’t utterly suck. I mean sure, there were a few small clouds, but at least it was dry. With a bow in my left hand, and an arrow in my right, I took aim. I thought, nothing can go wrong today. In a week I start touring. There couldn’t possibly be anything to make this month- no, this year, even- suck. Oh man, was I wrong. My brother’s arrow caught the wind in such a strange manner; you’d swear it was magick. It wasn’t, and it almost ended my life. If you ask me, it should have.
The better part of what happened next was kind of a blur to me, since I was too occupied with the atrocious pain of an arrow sticking out of both sides of my neck to bother taking a good look at my surroundings. The weird thing was, I remember that I was still able to breathe as if nothing was there. I wasn’t sure, however, if that was a good thing or not. I mean, it could mean anything; that it missed by that much, that I’m having that one last hopeless burst of life before I go, that it may have saved my life, but it ended up messing up something else, most likely irreparably. My luck just kinda goes that way; I am the black cat after all, so the first possibility is obviously out. I’ve always learned to expect the worst, so the second one seems rather likely. Of course, there’s the whole equivalent exchange thing, so the third one doesn’t seem so far away. Still, the feeling of possibly dying in my prime- it’s the kind of thing that can send shivers along the spines of even the bravest of people. I don’t want it to end like this, but are there really any alternatives? Well, whatever this is, I doubt it can be good at all. After looking at various CT scans and X-Rays and MRI’s, the doctor finally speaks. "We can remove it without doing much damage to your breathing. At most, you’ll get winded easily for a month or so." Well, sounds like things are looking up. Yeah, don't get your hopes up too much. "The arrow missed your trachea by a few millimeters. However, it severed your vocal cords and poked a small hole in your larynx." Oh no. Hell no. Doesn’t that mean that my voice- the one thing I’ve depended on the most- is completely gone?! It’s just not possible! I won’t allow it! I stole a piece of paper and a pen, and started writing. "I’m assuming that means the Europe tour is out, huh?" He just nodded. I always thought that doctors were supposed to make you feel better, not worse! Alright, they’re supposed to keep you from dying, but his face is so impassive and stoic, honestly! I mean, this singing thing- I was very dependent on it. Maybe, a bit too dependent, if I start panicking when it's taken away. Oh well.
One year later
It's been exactly one year since the archery accident, and I've seemed to drift farther away from my family. My brother and I have made our own sign language, so that I can still communicate with him, since I can't speak or anything. I've really become quite an accomplished writer, with a novel due to be out in bookstores relatively soon. It's a basic love story with a twist- girl meets boy, girl falls in love, boy is really a well-disguised girl. I've also dipped my feet into computer hardware. I can say from experience, to never flip the red switch on the back of the computer and plug it in. It'll explode, how fun. I did that with a client's computer, and I ended up having to buy him a new system. Thankfully his hard disks weren't fried. Overall I've adjusted to having no voice, but still I dream of having it back sometimes. I know, it's a far off dream, but still.
So, even though life has returned to being as normal as it can get, my mother has become even worse. Everything I do, she finds one little thing to complain about, even if she knows nothing about it. How exasperating. So, we got into a fight over the government's take on homosexuality, since she's anti-gay, and I'm well, gay. she thinks that the feds not recognizing same-sex marriages is a good thing, since apparently marriage is between a man and a woman, on her terms. She fights with religion and assumptions, and I fight back (in writing or actions, or course) with logic and reasoning and fact. So, one fay, she just got me horribly pissed, and somehow, I yelled at her "Alright, so if homosexuality is a sin, does that mean I'm going to Hell? Huh?" Now, my first thought wasn't what her reaction would be to that, but it was "Holy crap, I can talk?"
So, my story isn't as bittersweet as I expected. I got a girlfriend, the Europe tour was put back on after a bit of vocal re-training, and I got kicked out of my house. Heh, no big deal, I've been looking for reasons to get out of there.
(I know it could be better, but I had to condense it from it's original length. Duibuqi!)