Note By Note

II: Obsolete

Note by Note

Chapter II - Obsolete

[Dedicated Song: ASCA - KOE]

[10 March 2018]
[London, The Grove Café]
[10:56]

I stared at the woman in front of me and spent all the time I was allowed to marvel at her bodacious features. From the caramel skin tone riddled with freckles down to the wild afro that looked no different from a bird's nest. But somehow, this woman made it work. It was as if I was looking at a representative of every angel in Heaven. Once again, I caught sight of her lips moving and I snapped out of my trance. I had remembered why I wanted to leave as soon as possible, I was far from ready to face the public eye when I could barely handle the concept of multiple conversations erupting around me and me lacking the ability to catch every single sound. Every single letter.

Just when a tiny bit of my strength began to return, I instantly forced myself out of the woman's hold and quickly began to make my way far away from the café, moving as fast as my legs as my frail legs could carry me. It was not long until I felt my energy get drained once more, to such a point that I began walking in a zig-zag manner. It was as if there was a force yanking to either side of the sidewalk, no matter how much I tried to resist. It was a nauseating feeling. I was still a ways away from home, but I could already feel the fraction of strength I had regained getting sapped away from me. I was back at The Grove. I was once again losing the weak grip that I had on consciousness. But I was saved once more.

There was that sublime face again. That angelic presence is hidden inside this woman. Worry was painted on her freckled face this time as her lips moved, but I heard nothing. Doing my best to lift my sluggish body on its own for the second time today, I lifted my fidgety hands to eye level, moving them in rather odd ways to convey my message. "Sorry, I'm deaf." I tried to say. There was a large chance that she did not understand whatever I was trying to communicate. After all, nobody would suddenly burst on the scene with the ability to communicate in Sign Language just because the daughter of Ekaterina Angeloff had been diagnosed with Usher Syndrome. In my mother's shadow, I was far from anything special. To everyone, I was simply another famous star's child walking in the path that they had paved and absorbing every ounce of influence that they had. None of that truly mattered anymore, because I felt no different from a cripple.

The woman seemed a bit confused for a few seconds before the light bulb went off and she realized what I was alluding to. There seemed to be a look of pity on her round face and the corners of my lips stretched further down to accentuate my frown. This was exactly what I hated. Pity. Pity was for people who were completely incapacitated. Pity was for people who could do nothing for themselves. It was not for me, I did not want it to be for me. Because if I did, then it meant that I fell into either of the latter categories. I refused to believe I did.

This was mostly the reason I was fighting to go back home because people would see me in a different light. I would be deemed nothing more than a cripple who was still set to suffer from more issues, but this lady in front of me did not seem to get the hint. She was rather determined. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, I turned on my heels and attempted to escape in hopes of avoiding any form of conversation. Nope. She did not allow such. A firm grip was on my arm as I was pulled back into position. I faced her with an annoyed look, expressing my unhappiness with this in the least confusing method possible.

She pulled out her smartphone and placed it in my hand, and the device already displayed a number keypad. I knew what she wanted to do, and a part of me did not want to entertain this total stranger, but perhaps this was a clear way to tell her that I did not require any help.

I quickly typed in my number and pulled out my smartphone, awaiting her message, which instantly came. "Hello, stranger. It looks like you need a bit of help walking!" The message read. I do not think my frown could have grown any worse as I typed my response. "I don't need anybody's help. I can walk just fine on my own." The woman shook her head in what I guessed was a slight disappointment. "I don't think everybody else walks in zig-zags." I quickly received the text and my frustration with just about everything began to slowly evolve into anger. Who the hell did this woman think she was? What place did she have thought I needed anybody's help?