Reasons: Part 1

Steven’s P.O.V.
   I had just finished editing the last video for this week. I was completely exhausted, but proud of what I’d done. Hopefully, Toby would be too.
   I sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes. There hasn’t been a day in my life where I hadn’t wanted to impress Toby. We had been best friends since before I can even remember, and I had always really looked up to him. He was like the older brother I always wished I had growing up, and he would defend me to the very end. At least, that’s what he said when I was being bullied throughout our school years.
   But, he did keep his promise. He protected me from all of the bullies and he was able to get his parents to call a social worker to help press abuse charges on my parents. I really owe him more than I could ever hope to repay. I do what I can, being the best friend and editor I can be, and making everything behind the scenes work so Toby’s videos can be the best quality I can manage.
   I heard soft footsteps shuffle into the room, and I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know it was Toby.
   “Hey Steven! Sorry to bother you, but how far along is everything?” he asked, leaning over the back of the computer chair to see the monitor. I swiveled the chair around, and smiled triumphantly.
   “Everything is finished and ready for uploading,” I signed to him.
   Toby’s eyes widened in disbelief, “No way! I can’t believe you finished it all that fast. You’re really getting good at your job!” I couldn’t help but smile and blush slightly at his praise.
   “Thanks Toby! Here, why don’t you watch the videos and double check to make sure I didn’t miss anything. I’m gonna go take a quick walk.” I got up from my seat and allowed Toby to sit and begin watching through the videos. I was walking out of the house and I couldn’t help but smile as I heard Toby’s laughter. All of the videos I just finished editing were hilarious, like always, and I made me wish I could laugh so he knew just how funny I thought they were.
   It was tough, being mute. I always had this burning jealousy of just about everyone and their ability to speak. There were so many people out there who had no idea just how lucky they were just to be able to grunt or groan or even make a loud yawn. But everyone had something to deal with, and this was my thing. I just had try and live a normal life, like any other normal person. It was hard, but thanks to Toby, I can do it.
   There was a time in my life when I could speak. That was before the abuse had really gotten bad. I used to be able to talk loud, laugh, yawn, scream, moan, and yawn. I look back on those times, struggling to remember what my voice sounded like. It’s really difficult now, but what I do remember were the kind comments I got from teachers and students alike about how incredible of a singer I was. That’s right, I was a singer. Apparently one of the best. It was my dream to grow up and be one of the most famous singers out there. That obviously didn’t happen, thanks to my parents.
   I looked down at my shoes as I walked, and I started to feel resentful and angry as thoughts of my parents entered my mind. I have never despised anyone more than my parents. They were the two most awful people to have ever walked the Earth. I’m so happy that my father overdosed and my mother was in jail across the country. They can’t hurt me now.
   I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I assumed it was Toby. When I looked up at the sky, I could tell it was getting late, and he was worried about me. When I saw the time on my phone, I couldn’t believe that I had been walking around for two and a half hours. No wonder he was freaked. I was usual back in an hour, tops.
   I was about to respond to his text when a truck pulled up the sidewalk. I looked up from my phone and to the driver of the truck. My eyes widened and I began to run. The driver chased after me, struggling to catch up. I was turning blind corners and trying to text Toby when I heard a noise, and I fell. I felt pain coming from my leg, and I saw blood pooling around it. Did I just get shot?
   I tried to reach for my phone, but I had launched it several feet in front of me. I tried to call out, but of course, no sound came out. I tried to stand up and run again, but the driver of the truck stood before me, gun in hand. I prayed that I had hit the send button for the text, and that Toby would call the police or come looking for me.
   I saw the driver raise the butt of the gun, and then they brought it down on my head, knocking me unconscious.