Eli blinked awake, the taste of sleep still heavy on his tongue. He stretched and yawned, but when he tried to speak, panic fluttered in his chest. His hands flew to his lips—his mouth was zipped shut, a shimmering silver zipper running from cheek to cheek. He stumbled to the mirror, eyes wide in disbelief at the impossible sight.
Eli clawed at the zipper, his fingers trembling as he tried to tug it open. The cold metal refused to budge, humming with an eerie energy beneath his touch. He fumbled through the piles on his desk, scattering pencils and pages, searching for scissors or pliers, his breath coming in ragged, terrified bursts.
Maya (Eli’s older sister, practical and kind-hearted) opened her door, her brow furrowing when she saw his wild eyes and the zipper sealing his lips. "Eli, what happened? Oh my god, is that real? Let me look—don’t panic, okay? We’ll figure this out together." She reached out, gently touching his cheek, her own hands shaking as she examined the impossible zipper.
Eli scribbled furiously on the notepad, explaining that he had no idea how it happened. "It must be a dream, or a prank, or something supernatural," Maya murmured, flipping through her phone for answers. She tried to unzip his mouth herself, but the metal remained stubbornly closed, a silent barrier between them.
"Maybe there’s a reason for this," Maya suggested quietly, her voice trembling. Eli closed his eyes, remembering an argument from the night before—angry words spoken in haste, regret left unsaid. He wrote a single word on the pad: "Sorry." Maya’s eyes filled with understanding as she hugged him tightly.
With trembling hands, Eli reached up to the zipper. This time, it yielded easily, sliding open with a whispering sigh. He gasped, air rushing over his lips, and called out softly for Maya. "Thank you for listening, even when I couldn’t speak," he whispered, relief and gratitude shining in his eyes.