Silence

3

He won't stop. Every day he swings by my desk with a cup of coffee in the morning. Exchange greetings. Joins me for lunch. Chats. Signs. Interacts.

I'm starting to look forward to it. My favorite parts of the day. I need it desperately. I'm like a flower growing on asphalt. Thirsting. For human contact. Conversation. Even a silent one.

He even takes the time to translate for me whenever there's a meeting. He's signing everything for me even though I can hear perfectly but he doesn't know that. I feel so bad for deceiving him. I'm such a fraud. Mean. I should tell him. But then I have to explain why I'm mute and I can't. I just can't. I don't talk about that, even in sign language. It's too traumatic.

He's wonderful. Perfect. I don't deserve perfect. He's been the inspiration for my poems lately. I finished one last night. When bad dreams kept me awake.

Blue

Like the sea,
Calm and beautiful,
But fierce
Untouchable,
Like the sky
Sometimes clouded,
At times free
Music so loud,
Just to drown
My thoughts
In this endless blue
Soothing my heart,
Crying in the dark
Trying to forget
'Cause fuck if it hurts

'Cause my worst nightmare
Is myself
I just can't be left alone
But I have no friends
Just me and a written page
And all the things
I didn't have time to say

All those words
I didn't speak yet
Written in a poem
Lost in the wind
And maybe it'll get to you

I just want to go home,
Back to you
Lost in the sky,
Still the same blue

He is always challenging me. To step out of my comfort zone. To not hide. At my desk in the back of the office. One day I join him for lunch in the break room. Silence. Everyone is staring. I try to ignore it. I'm used to it.

Louis furrows his brows. He looks around the room. Glaring. Angry. I want to go back to my desk but he stops me. Puts a hand on my arm. Squeezes it. Comfortable. He smiles at me. Nods at a table in the corner. I take a deep breath. Sit down. He catches my attention. He signs, without speaking loud this time. So only I will understand.
"Are they always like this?" He asks.

"Yes." I sign back.

"That's fucking horrible. Have you talked to HR about it?" He signs, looking worried.

"No. It's okay. Don't worry about it." I sign back.

"It's not fucking okay, Harry! It's fucking bullying, that's what it is." Louis signs upset. He swears a lot I notice.

I just shrug my shoulders. He looks at me. Intense blue eyes. He sighs. Thankfully he drops it. For now. I don't think this is the end of this discussion.

We eat our lunch. Talk with our hands. Louis is funny. He makes me giggle. Pulling sounds out of me. He lights up like the sun when he succeeds. I need that light to chase away my darkness.

Lunch is over. Three of our colleagues come over to our table.
"Louis! Wanna watch the game with us on Friday?"

Louis' lips tighten.
"No Thomas. I don't want to hang out with people who treat their coworkers like shit."

Thomas' mouth falls open. His eyes flicker in my direction. He blushes.
"Ehm, Harry can join us too. Of course."

"Well, that's lovely, Thomas." Louis says. Voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Harry and I have other plans." He adds.

I stare at the table, trying my best to not reveal that I've heard the whole conversation. My heart is beating fast. I can't believe Louis called them out like that. Defending me.

Thomas leaves with the others. He looks offended. Louis touches my arm to get my attention.
"Don't mind them. What are you doing on Friday after work?" He signs.

I usually treat myself to some takeouts and watch a movie. I have a mission to try out every restaurant in London at least once. It's my Friday thing. I can't tell him that. It sounds sad and pathetic. I just shrug my shoulders in response.
"What do you say about going for a beer?" He signs, speaks as well. I love his voice. It's really distinct.

A beer? I can do that.
"I'd like that." I sign and smile.

"Great! Let's just grab something to eat at the pub as well. Do you have a favorite place you usually go to?" He asks. Make sure to sign as well.

I usually don't go anywhere.
"No." I sign.

"Then I'll show you my favorite spot." He grins. His delicate hands are dancing.

"Okay." I agree.

"I guess we have to get a little bit of work done now." He chuckles and stands up.

I nod my head. Smile. Show of my dimples. His smile widens. We walk side by side until we have to go our separate ways. Me, returning to my desk in the back corner. He, upfront.

I sit. Stare at my screen. Thinking. About him. Blue eyes. I open my notebook. Read my latest poem. Suitable. Maybe I won't be left alone anymore? Hopeful. Maybe I have a friend again?

I had friends before. In high school. My life was as normal as it could be. We had a band. I sang. Dreamt about being rock stars. We hung out. Goofed around. Being teenagers. Figuring ourselves out. I was outgoing and a bit shy at the same time. Talkative. Happy.

Then it changed. Overnight. Traumatized. Lost my voice. Lost my family. Lost my friends. Lost everything.

They all knew about it. Of course. We lived in a small place. It was all over the news. Talked about. In school. On the streets. Neighbors. In the coffee shop. Everywhere. It was the topic on everyone's lips. The horrible thing that happened in our house. The death. The survival of the teenage boy.

I was in the hospital. My friends visited at first. They didn't know what to say. They tried. But they were just teenage boys and I, I was damaged beyond repair.

I was sent to a mental institution for a while. God knows I needed it. Then I was sent to a foster home. My only request on a paper was that it would be somewhere else. Far away. I ended up here in London. I went through the foster system. Many houses. Many families I didn't belong to. I didn't speak. I was that strange kid that no one really wanted. If my grandparents had been alive maybe it would have been different. I would still be around family. Now I was a stranger in someone's home. Some foster families really tried. I have to give them that. But I was always sent back into the system. Until I turned eighteen and got a job, a place to live, and put myself through school. Something I'm actually proud of.

It has been lonely but maybe I'm making a friend? Someone who wants to go out for a beer on Friday. Totally normal. I'm excited!