Due to her inability to hear noise, sight was Charlotte's dearest sense. The delicate drops of rain, the soft swish of the breeze and the variety of voices never reached past her ears. It really was a pity as she loved theatres. Stories were beautiful existences on their own, but to see them performed was another world.
The actors' facial expressions reflected the words on the page. It was an imprint of fictional characters in reality. Such a wondrous place was a theatre. The setting, actions and tears were all genuine. The actors performed by putting their entire soul and heart into the play, yet their lips were a void.
Every stage and every single act reminded Charlotte of her disability. It was awfully disheartening to watch a silent play. The actress fell down in woe, and her mouth opened. She was crying out in distress. Tears were forced out of the audience, as the sounds of distress evoked numerous hearts in the room.
Her distress reached everyone but Charlotte. It was silent, nothing out of the ordinary. The void couldn't be filled with simply the sight of tragedy. The hole ate away inside of her, as she internally lamented the fact that she couldn't hear. That her world was one of silence.
When the play ended, everyone clapped and so did Charlotte. Partially, although she knew it was no one's fault, she felt cheated. Her heart was heavy with disappointment.
She longed to hear music, the voices and the lyrics. Her failure weighed down on her heart like a million bricks. If only she could hear the emotions a voice held. She felt as though she was the unluckiest person in the world.
Up on the stage, the actors and actresses bowed, and the audience stood up. It was a standing ovation. The only person who remained seated was Charlotte.
It didn't help that she was sitting on the front row, where everyone could judge her. She sighed. The play might have been the best act in the world, but it didn't reach her heart. The void still remained.
As she pondered on leaving the theatre, a soft tap met her shoulder. A young man smiled at her, and pointed to the performers on stage. "That was a beautiful play," the stranger spoke, as Charlotte read his lips. "The actress is smiling at you, why don't you give one back?"
Charlotte looked up to see the leading actress smiling at her. Her eyes were devoid of judgement, instead filled with acceptance. The corner of her lips moved ever so subtly upwards with obvious delight. The smile was directed to her, and her only.
The warmth of the smile slowly soothed the disappointment of her flawed ears. Realisation descended upon her mind, and she stood up with a serene expression. The tragic emotions of the play couldn't reach her ears.
The shrill cry of agony and the melancholy music of the orchestra would never break through the invisible barrier separating her ears from the world. But a smile could.
It was such a simple, yet powerful expression. Her eyes weren't blindfolded, and her lips were free. They curved upwards, and she clapped as hard as she could. A smile had reached her, and she no longer felt ashamed.
Happiness could perfectly reach her, and she was blissfully content with just that.