One morning, I woke up and realized I could hear everyone’s inner voice. At first, I thought I was dreaming. But when I went downstairs, I heard my brother thinking, “I hope she doesn’t take the last pancake.” My mom was smiling, but her thoughts said, “I’m so tired. I wish someone else would cook today.”
I was shocked. Was I going crazy? I walked outside and passed my neighbor. She waved and said, “Good morning!” But in her mind, she thought, “I forgot to water the plants again.”
At school, things got even stranger. I heard my teacher thinking, “I hope nobody notices my shirt is inside out.” My best friend was laughing, but inside she was nervous about the math test. I helped her with some problems, and she smiled. “She’s such a good friend,” I heard her think. That made me happy.
But by lunchtime, the voices became too much. I couldn’t focus. So many thoughts. Some were funny, but others were sad, angry, or confused. I heard secrets people never said out loud.
If I could turn it off, I would. Hearing everything was not fun anymore. It was like having 100 radios playing at once.
At home, I sat on my bed and whispered, “Please stop.” And just like that silince came. Now, I don’t hear voices anymore, but I see people differently. I understand that everyone is fighting their own battles. They smile on the outside, but think so many things on the inside. That day taught me to be kinder, to listen more, and to never judge someone too quickly.