2 - 46 Days Of Summer

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When I step out of Hope Haven after spending practically the whole afternoon there, I find my father waiting inside his car. I watch as he gets out and approaches me, concern etched across his face. He probably thinks I've had a miserable time or that I want to go home immediately. I can see the worry lines on his forehead and the way his eyes search mine for signs of distress. 

"How was it?" He's hesitant and I can hear the concern in his voice. He's always been so cautious with his words around me, not wanting to upset me further. It's something I both like and hate because sometimes it makes me feel like I'm made of glass, fragile and easily shattered.

"It was actually... not bad," I reply, trying to reassure him. His face relaxes, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I think I might want to come back."

"That's a relief. See? I told you it might be a good idea." His proud smile makes me feel like I reached the sky and grabbed a handful of stars. It's a rare sight these days, to see my father genuinely happy about something related to my health. "Your mother would have been so proud of you for taking this step."

My heart aches at the mention of my mother. She had been the one who always believed in me, who had held my hand through countless doctor's appointments and hospital stays. Losing her to the same illness that now affects me had left a void in our lives, one that my father and I struggled to fill. "I know." I try to make it sound nonchalant, but who am I kidding? The pain of losing her is an ache that never truly goes away.

When we reach home, I help my father unload the car, carrying my portable oxygen tank into the house. I step into my room, take off my jacket, and sit down on my bed. I still can't forget about Niki, the mysterious pianist at Hope Have. How did he learn to play the piano so beautifully? He's a real mystery. 

"Dad," I head to the kitchen where my father is making a cup of tea. "Remember when we learned sign language?" 

"Yes. Why?" He turns to me and I can see the curiosity in his eyes. Oh, nothing, I'm just intrigued by a guy I met in Hope Haven and he's deaf and I want to talk to him. I would have said this, but I don't want him to think I fell in love with someone on the first day of being there.

"I just wanted to know if I'm still good at it," He sits across from me and nods, making me take a deep breath before I start signing, "Can you understand what I'm saying?

My father watches me sign, his eyes widening in surprise. It's been years since we practiced sign language together, and he probably never expected me to bring it up like this. He leans forward, squinting as he tries to follow my signs. "I can."

"There's someone in Hope Haven who's deaf, would it be alright if I went back tomorrow and tried to communicate with them?" I sign, my fingers moving with a bit more confidence now that I know my father can understand.

"Yes, it would be perfect." He nods and hesitantly tries to sign something. I watch as my father tries to remember the signs he once learned. His fingers move clumsily, and he laughs at his own attempts. "It would... make them happy."

"Okay." I can't help but smile and sign back to him. "Thank you."

I finish my tea and pull my oxygen tank to the backyard where I lie on the grass and open the book I'm currently reading. The sun is warm on my skin, and the gentle breeze rustles the pages of the book. I take off my mask and let the fresh air fill my lungs for a moment, wishing I could experience this simple pleasure more often. Nevertheless, I enjoy this brief freedom, feeling the grass tickling my fingers as I turn the pages of the book.

Summer had never felt this exciting. My life had been a series of doctor's appointments, medications, and the constant company of my portable oxygen tank. I was homeschooled all along the years and when summer came, I would spend most of my time indoors, cautiously avoiding any physical exertion that might strain my already compromised lungs. But this summer was different.

I stand in front of the mirror, fixing myself for the first time in what felt like ages. I was never the type to pay much attention to my appearance, not because I wanted to be different from others, but because I often felt that my health issues overshadowed everything else. The thought that I'm not here to stay for too long often lingered in my mind so I never bothered with things like makeup or fancy clothes. But today, I wanted to be more than just a girl with an oxygen tank.

I put on a light, flowy sundress in a soft, pastel shade. It was a dress that had been hanging in my closet, untouched for far too long. My mother loved this dress, and I remember her smiling as she helped me pick it out.

As I stand before the mirror, I look at a girl who is ready to step into a world she thought she could never be a part of. I look better than I have in a long time and I think to myself, maybe this is a new beginning. Maybe this is my chance to not just exist, but to truly live.

"Dad, I'm ready." When I walk downstairs, holding my dress and my oxygen tank, my father looks up from his newspaper, and his eyes widen in surprise and delight. He sets aside the newspaper and stands up, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"What is this? You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart," I can tell he's more than a little surprised and genuinely pleased. He steps closer to me, and for a moment, I see a glint of hope in his eyes, the kind that parents often have when they see their child taking a step towards a brighter future.

"Thank you." I sign to him and quickly carry my oxygen tank, stepping out of the house so he doesn't see my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I'm not used to receiving compliments, especially about my appearance, so it's a bit overwhelming.

"You're excited today. What happened in Hope Haven yesterday? I feel like they put a spell on you." My father laughs, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. "You do realize how rare it is for me to see you this enthusiastic, right?"

"It's just... I feel like I belong there, Dad. Like I can be more than my illness, even if it's just for a little while." I look down at my fidgeting fingers, still not used to expressing my feelings so openly. "They have a piano there and... I just remembered all those times when I used to play so beautifully. It's been years... I've almost forgotten what it's like to let my fingers dance across the keys."

"It sounds like the place has worked wonders on you," He says, his smile warm and encouraging. "I'm glad you enjoyed your day there. Now you have a whole summer to spend there. Isn't it wonderful?"

I smile and look outside the window. Now I have 46 days to  learn more about the mysterious pianist, Niki. It's both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

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