Mimic Me

Sand Never Sticks

I watched silently as the waves crashed against the sand and retreated back into the ocean. Every shade of blue the water contains is completely different and I am the only one who notices.

I feel the wind blow and sand hit my cheeks. I can smell the sweet perfume of a girl walking by. I can taste the salty air down my throat. All of these senses and feelings filled my brain familiar and bland, all except for hearing.

The sounds I'd never noticed and the noises I will never hear haunt me. I can't even imagine what it felt like to hear. My brain can't comprehend the sense of sound waves nor can it predict what a loud concert might feel like with instruments ringing in my ears.

I lay back onto the sand dune I rested on. I fidgeted with the sand and the buzz that spread across my hand as it fell between my fingers.

'Schools tomorrow.' I thought to myself. My first day of real school in a real classroom where there was no 'video off' button to ease my mind. Both of my parents agreed that I had been homeschooled for far too long and that it was time for me to socialize and make some friends. I'm more reasonable than them, I know that wouldn't be the case.

Sign language is something they taught in Kindergarten for a day or two, it's not something people learned fluently. Although I don't even want to have to talk to anybody, I would much rather just observe and avoid as much contact with people as I could.

I'm jittery and anxious. If people asked me something I wouldn't be able to answer them. If the teachers called on me I wouldn't notice. If people talked about me I would never know. I can't come up with one thing that would be exciting about tomorrow.

For hours I layed there without moving. I probably looked lifeless. If there was someone who cared enough they would ask if I were okay. Maybe if that girl walked by again she would wonder if I were alive or not.

I wondered why no one ever thought to ask me questions such as these. I'm one of those kids that with just one look you could tell isn't the happiest.

But still no one ever seemed to notice. Except my parents of course. They seem to despise the way I act. I say 'seem' because they had never taken the time to learn sign language themselves even though their son's been deaf since birth.

I guess that was my answer. If my own parents don't even try to find ways to communicate with me, why should strangers worry about me or even acknowledge my presence at all? I;m simply not worth the trouble.

Hardly anyone ever comes to this beach, that girl has been the only other person I've seen here.

I never swam, I never even touched the water. I just sat in this exact spot every time I came. I sat here to think. I sat here to cry. I sat here to regret. The girl on the other hand walked right against the shores, the water soaking into her shoes.

Once I had even seen her walk into the water fully clothed and stay under for a great amount of time. At first I had thought she was trying to drown herself for she always sapears gloomy and tired, but after a minute or two she came back up.

If she had been trying to drown herself I wouldn't have done anything. I'd understand that she didn't want to be saved and I would have stayed still, or maybe even have left.

Many stable people think saving people from suicide is a good thing. They expect to be thanked and applauded later by the others they saved. But they have never felt the way the person they saved does. They had never felt like they couldn't breathe, they had never doubted that they had someone who loved them. And those who say they have are lying. Happy people always have someone who loves them, they are too happy to resist. Others are naturally drawn toward them.