YA Fictional Novella - Audiobook
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishAccents
North American (General) US African AmericanTranscript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
He runs as his heart races and breathing deepens with every stride. He continues to sprint into the dark void of nothingness. If not for the faint voices he hears from afar, he would drift away in this infinite space that seems to have no beginning or ending. He's been here before, but this time seems a bit different. I hear the voices. It's not like the usual ones. I hear. It sounds like chanting. He thinks, but where are they? He continues to run with persistence and conviction as he listens carefully to the chanting. Getting louder. The chance possesses the air filling his ears with words from a language that is unfamiliar to him. The beating of the drum begins to match the rhythm of his pulse. Bah, boom, bah, boom, bah, boom. The way they are both in sync is undeniable. And so are the chances they grow louder and louder. Despite the expanse of darkness, he knows he's headed in the right direction. Unexpectedly, the chanting ceases. It's as if the invisible strangers are suddenly aware of the visitor's arrival. Drew stops running and bends over, reclaiming his breath. Why are you here? Allowed? Hallowed voice? Demands as it echoes throughout the vacuum. The rasping undertone of the voice seems eerily similar to that of an elderly lady. I don't know why I'm here. He responds. I think I'm lost. Who, who are you lost? You say more like a wild seed with no soil. The mysterious woman responds as her laughter fades into the void. Theory stands puzzled about what has just happened and unsure of what to do next. Then familiar voices begin speaking. These, he knows he's heard them many times before they begin speaking almost in concert with each other. You can't separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his another voice chimes in as the former voices continue speaking, any real change implies the break up of the world as one has always, then another voice comes, nothing is easy to the unwilling and finally, Drew. Drew my love. These voices are all reoccurrences to him, but they always seem to be coming from great distance voices of civil rights leaders from the past. He admires them all. But why are they constantly in his dreams? More importantly, that last voice? He wonders. Suddenly a very familiar voice cuts through the din like a hot knife through butter. Drew, hurry up, son. You're gonna miss your ride to school or are you planning to do some exercise and walk all the way? Drew blinked and woke fully. His dad's voice rousing him from his sleep, rays of sunlight streams through the windows and he realized it was already late in the morning. He cursed softly. He knew his phone's battery must have run down again. Or else he would have been awakened by its preset alarm.