The Lost Voice-- Chapter One.

This is a new story I just started. In the land of Saltinea ( pronounced, SAL-TEEN-UH) when a person is born they have no voice. At the age of twelve they go out to search for it. This is the story of a girl named Lyr's search. It is told partly in diary entries and in live action. Please enjoy and comment. Happy Holidays everyone!

Hello reader, if this book has found its way into your hands, I know that I can trust you.

Welcome to the diaries of Lyr Tolasquiss.

Chapter 1

Birthday

In the land of Saltinea for the beginning part of your life you can’t talk. You have no voice. Then when you reach the age of twelve you are turned free into the city in search of your voice. No one really knows how you find it. But most people do find it anyways. Now that I am turning twelve, I will leave my parents forever in search for my voice.

Dear Diary,

This is my first diary entry and I hope to have many more. Today, my twelfth birthday and along with many other gifts, I received the typewriter I am writing these diary entries on and a diary for me to glue the entries in to. It wasn’t much, Mother baked a cake and we all sat around the table as I blew out the wax candles. To me this tradition seems very strange. In the birthday dinner, the snuffing of the candles and the making of a wish is the highlight of the dinner. But it seems to me that birthdays are meant to celebrate life, not focus on snuffing it out into darkness and smoke.

But today has even more importance than that for today I enter the city alone, for the first time in my long life I will finally be able to freely explore Saltinea’s dark alleys and tiny shops. For the first time I will be alone.

Lyr

October 8^th

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Lyr walked out the tall wooden door of her house and tasted the crisp, sweet fall air. Finally she thought, some privacy. She hopped briskly down the cracked stone steps that separated her house from the cobble stone road in front of her. A sound rang through the air, filling the street with music. Walking down the narrow street was a street performer carrying an organ grinder. Sitting on top the interment was a jacket and hat clad brown monkey. She smiled enjoying the melody that floated lightly away from the ever-cranking organ grinder.

The man smiled too in a wide grin that showed Lyr a yellow holey smile.

“A bit of coin for a cold old man girly?” he asked hopefully. Holding out a red velvet pouch.

Lyr shrugged, then shook her head putting on what she hoped was an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, mister,” she whispered. She then walked quickly down the road. The organ man followed her.

“Don’t like to talk missy?” the man asked smiling in amusement. Lyr shook her head looking down at her brown clogs. “Well then, why don’t you let me help you find your voice?” He asked seriously. “I be an expert at speaking as it would happen,” said the man thoughtfully. Lyr shrugged once again, shifting around awkwardly. “Is that a no?” asked the organ man disappointedly.

“Yes sir,” mumbled Lyr finally making eye contact with the street performer.

“Calls me sir she does,” laughed the man a grin painting itself on his face. His face suddenly turned somber once again, “But are you sure about my offer, girly? I’ve been wanting to go on an adventure for a while now, this is my last chance to have some fun with my life,” said the man sadly shaking his head. “I can help you find your voice,” he offered hopefully. “Everyone has a voice you know,” the organ grinder pointed to himself, “I found mine years ago when I was a child. It was easier for me than it might be for you. The trick is to see something that you can’t keep silent about,” he said knowingly.

“So how about it,” said the organ man logically, “ You need your voice, I want an adventure, everyone wins,” he paused, “So what do you say,” he asked.

Lyr nodded.