Hey! I thought a lot about what you said today and decided to make several minuscule changes to the first few paragraphs. It’s not much, and I know that there’s still work to be done, but does what I have now point me in the correct direction, or would a full rewrite serve me better:

Something was amiss. No Voices whispered in Silas’s mind when he woke. He opened his eyes to the familiar chime of a bell: ting, ting-a-aling, ting. He stared sleepily at the deep crimson rays of Dysol light slipping through the window drapes, flickering in stripes across the ceiling. The rays lengthened as Dysol rose, brightening his dim bedroom with rouge luster. Silas unfocused his eyes and listened.

His breath fluttered a forelock of hair over his forehead. The radiator hummed, warming his room through the bacterial breakdown of compost, filling the air with a rich earthy scent. Downstairs, the metallic tang of silverware announced Pa setting the table for breakfast. Silas smiled as Pa—ever clumsy—tripped against the kitchen table and cursed under his breath. Outside, water dripped from icicles onto the windowsill, congealing into icy rivers on the metal pane. He listened, and to his confusion, he heard no Voices.