Mimic Me

Just Don't Let My Friends Know

I waved feebly at the group of boys before my dad closed the door. I quickly ran toward the kitchen window before my dad could do anything. I had to make sure my friends were far away if he decided to start yelling at me.

He's probably yelling this very moment. I sat at the bar stools at the kitchen island and watched as they slowly made their way down my street conversing along the way.

When they left I looked over at my dad, he took a deep breath and sighed. He began to speak and though I heard absolutely nothing I knew he was upset by the manecing look in his eyes.

His anger and disappointment left a powerful impact on me. Too powerful. So powerful that every time he started talking I couldn't help but begin to cry.

I hadn't the smallest idea what he was yelling at me for but I craved to know. Reading lips isn't enough I crave to hear. To hear all of the bad, the good, all of the things people cover there ears for. I want to listen to Micheal Jackson so Dino and I could have more in common. I want to watch Romeo and Juliet without subtitles and I want to learn the concept of music. But most specifically I wanted to talk to Hoshi. I wanted to apologize in private, just me and him alone.

These are the types of things I cried about. The things that kept me up at night and ate away at the corners of my brain.

Childish, I know.

My dad grabbed my shoulders and shook me to grab my attention. I looked up through the splotches in my sight, blinking away the blurriness. He spoke slowly now but my clouded vision ruined my sight.

A sudden sharp ache overcame the left side of my face. Just like always his anger resorted to violence. My hands shook and my ears burned as though I had the hottest fever to ever exist. He shook my shoulders again and I slowly lifted my head.

"What did you tell them?" Over time I'd learned how to read lips, it's difficult, everyone speakes with their own quirks.

I shook my head in response.

"Verbally."

"N-Nothing, I didn't tell them anything," My voice felt scratchy and I'm sure it sounded weak and fragile. Pitiable.

I felt another ache after I responded and the pain came in tidal waves. My legs collapsed from beneath me and I fell to my knees feeling so many things at once, none of them were the least bit positive.

My dad isn;t even all that strong, it;s the disapproval pushing me down, the misunderstanding, and the blatant unfairity.

"Don't lie."

"I didn't say anything." Everytime I lied I got hit again. If only he could read my mind, or even a descent person then maybe this would be less painful.

"You told them that I hit you right? That I'm an awefull parent?"

I couldn't do this anymore. I didn't respond, I just started crying harder. So hard that I felt light headed. So light headed that I couldn't tell whether I passed out from blood loss or the amount of tears that were puddled on the white tiles.

When I woke up I was in the dreadly familular basement. The fridige air stung my arms and the hair on the back of my neck stood up as soon as my consiousness regained. My bones wheezed as I stood up and the metal floor and walls seemed to close in as I stumbled up the stairs unlatching the door.

I limped out of the basement and up the staircase to my room. The curtains drapped elegantly over my windows blew softly with the wind and I saw glimses of the shadowed moon through the satin gaps.

I was too sore to fall back asleep so I decided to get ready for school early. I changed into sutible clothes and walked to my bathroom. There I rubbed medication used to reduce swelling and brusies. I couldn't tell if it worked or not, the mirror was still taped completely. I would just have to cross my fingers as I walked into class for my second day.

I sat in my living room reading a book I've read a thousand times already. I was thinking about skipping class and pretending to be sick but I knew my dad would be mad if I did so.

I hoped no one paid too much attention toward me. The medication worked well but it's not perfect. I'm sure if you studied my face close enough you could see the slight purple colors on my cheek.

I wouldn't have to worry too much. Just like Nailen had always told me my face wasn't worth looking at for too long. I wasn't worth staying with for too long either. One day my friends would grow tired of me and venture off by themselves. I just new it. No one ever stays, people only come and go in my life, it's always the worst people who stick around.

As if on comand I felt a hand on my shoulder. Not an agresive touch but not a comforting one either. It was the touch of the person that made me feel deathly ill. It was the touch of the person who deserved much more than I offererd. It was the touch of Hoshi and it sent shock waves down my spine.

I dropped the book and looked back at him, he motioned for me to follow him, a cold expression on his face. I went outside with him to the group that waited for us patiently. Most of them looked happy and energetic with the exeption of Minghao who slep on Jun's back once again.

'Good morning Woozi,' Joshua signed to me exitedly. I looked back at him with a suprised look on my face.

'I've been studying,' He said, laughing at my reaction.

'You're a quick learner,' I was enlightend by the geutster, they really did care about me and I cared for them too. For now at least.

'I know about half of the language, I stayed up all night with Jeonghan, S-Coups, Dino, and DK and practised all night. We made some good progress.'

We started the journy to school. Minghao complained when we woke him up saying that he was going to kill someone the next time we interupted his 'nap-time'. We just laughed at him.

I felt great this morning, other than the injuries of course. It didn't matter what happened in or out of school. And it didn't matter what happened in or outside of my head. All that mattered was that I keep my friends in the dark. The only rule was that my friends can't know what happenes when they turn away.