Sometimes you just forget how to talk. I don't mean forget like you had something on the tip of your tongue and can't get it out, I literally mean you forgot how to talk. I sat there in the creased and faded easy chair, staring at the little marks on the wall. Here where the bed hit the wall as I was moving in, there where my thrown shoe had won the war against a dynasty of roaches....I still couldn't speak.
Of course, I could remember how to speak. Having to say words and sentences in a certain order to get the person on the other end of the line to understand was one of the one things I did know how to do. It's just that I couldn't really move anything. My face from the nose down was sompletely numb and unresponsive. I reached to touch it but I knew I wouldn't feel anything...and my mouth was hanging wide open. I hated it when that happened, knowing that there was now probably a good amount of spit covering my front.
To help stem the tide I slumped forward a little, but that just caused my neck to start aching. I'd go and lie on my bed, but I couldn't move that far away from the port and being on my back while connected was a big no-no.
The dozens of sinuous cables reached from the lone connection in the wall to plug into the port near my skull. I couldn't decide whether the slight buzz of the connection was soothing, but if I thought about how deep the wires went, I'd start to get sick. I closed my eyes and tried to think of happier times, times when I could actually speak. Music would've been a nice, but I couldn't reach my phone and the media hub only responded to vocal commands. It seemed convenient unless you couldn't talk, but I'm sure the designer was off having a blast. Probably shouting about how awesome his life was, the jerk.
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Fifteen minutes passed, with only the amount of drool changing. At least there was a bit of light still coming through the window. These things mostly happened at night because it was more convenient for the clients, but sometimes they had to speak on international business trips. Why learn English when you can just pay a fee and have a lifetime of experience at your vocal chords! I wanted to hate them, wanted to scream out that they hadn't earned it, but that was a half lie.
Truth was I had sold my voice to the highest bidder, for the low low price of just 200 dollars an hour. It beat flipping burgers, but there's just something about selling a part of you that just screams wrongness. If I wasn't hooked up and out of commission, I'd be out in the world talking. Always talking, I never stop when I have the chance.
It could be worse though, much worse... but anyway, here I was. Sitting. AND STARING! And dying. It gets kinda morbid all alone in here, but it could be worse. My parents always say to be thankful that I have something to sell, but it never sat quite right. Them and my little sister were off doing their thing while I was trying to pay way too many bills with way too little money.
Another fifteen minutes and the port gave a series of warning buzzes. My eyes flicked up hopefully at the clock, and then everything faded to black.
After a few seconds, I woke back up with hot white agony racing through the left side of my brain. Still slumped over in the chair, I whipped my hand around to ease the plug out of the socket and covered the resulting hole with the fake flap of skin they provided. Rising from the chair, I staggered the two steps to the bed and collapsed with a moan. You always wished they would hurry up, but you never wanted them to finish.
Reaching for my phone, I made sure that the correct amount had been deposited into my account and then let everything fade away.
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