The Voice

By Myth Reid - March 12, 2014

Sometimes, our voices never come out. Most of the time, our voices are never heard. Our whispers are no more than whispers. Our shouts become shouts into the void.


People will always have something to say about us however we may act, however we may behave. And oftentimes, they'd think they're right about their opinions. If you say something, they'd think you're rather defensive. If you don't, justice will only be served if they are able to speak to Jesus.

That is if they believe in Jesus.

Every once in a while, we get entangled with mistakes we didn't really commit. We are accused of saying words that didn't really come out our mouths. And there are times when it's your friends or people dear to you who condemn you. Which just adds insult to injury. (I couldn't imagine if it comes from someone in the family. I can only pray nothing like that actually happens.)

How do we actually get out of a wrong pit we are thrown out to? Do we scream "hey, i'm not supposed to be in here!"? How do we tell people they are wrong, if the accusers got the whole nine yards backing them up, accepting the same judgment without hesitation, and your only supporter is in an invisible, intangible heaven?

It was raining one afternoon when I thought of all of this. Not that I'm trying to imply that something like this happened to me recently but in this lifetime, I have at least, for once, been put in a similar situation. This excruciating thoughts brought me once more to that day I was accused of taking something I really didn't take. I can still remember how I complained to my mom about it, teary-eyed, desperate for an almost impossible earthly justice. But then God proved he is always the nice god he is, the thing I was accused of taking was found and who hid it (not really take it) was also found out. It wasn't really relief I felt after that. I can't even remember thanking God for the justice rightly served.

It was, for one, uneasiness.

It felt uneasy because it was family. And you'd live with them for what? A decade or two? Or maybe more than half a century? What if something gets lost again? What if a playful child or an aged woman took it, hid it inside the tube of a double-decked bed and no one finds out? Will I pay for that mistake forever even if I honest-to-God didn't do it?

...And it left me doubtful.

It felt very wrong that I was doubting the essence of family. Owing to the fact that we were programmed to think that friends are not as dependable as family is because friends leave and family doesn't, it was difficult.

Despite all the initial reactions however, I let go of that part of a then near past. Forgiveness didn't come easy. Thank God the culprit was found out; I forgave. Still, I was left questioning, what if?

So, yeah, it was raining, so nostalgia was kind of normal. The sound of rain and the sight of a blurry window bring flashbacks that can turn a good day into something else. But don't get me wrong I love the rain. The sight of its seemingly choreographed gentle fall-down. The sound of its collision with fragile leaves. It's just that these can also be moments when you want to go inside the house and find your mom, or your brother or your sister and tell them how you feel. It can also be a moment when you want to click your phone open and feel the sweetness of your true friends. Virtual sweetness. But still, sweetness. And then, these things are impossible.

So, you wanna shout but who will hear you out? You wanna scream but who will care? You wanna holler and holler and holler but still feel muted. So you pray. But you can only hope.

My thoughts were forming a whirlwind inside my head so I had to go out and find serenity somewhere. Sometimes, I find serenity by getting lost. I went to watch a movie I was too late for. I went to take a cold frappe which didn't fit the weather. I went looking at books that could give me solutions to the puzzles in my head.

But to no avail.

I was late for work. My team mates accused me of making excuses for being late. I just wasn't aware the schedule changed. Although, the good thing was there were a couple of us who were unaware of the shift. For that matter, I can let go of this.

I don't even have to say a word. God knows what I'm talking about.


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