Aaand it's raining. Not that I mind the rain. I just know it will put mum in a bad mood. Or, well, rather, a worse one. Not sure if she ever has a good mood to be quite honest. Not around me at least.
I let my mind picture what the clouds look like outside. Greying. Not grey already, because it just started raining. They still have white streaks like stretch marks. Soft and threatening at the same time.
Ah. Someone poked my arm. I turn to see what seems like a million pairs of eyes staring at me, all bearing different emotions. Amusement. Boredom. Fake interest. Boredom. Impatience. Aaaand oh. Annoyance. From my teacher. I quickly shake my head a little to show a clearing of thoughts. Mrs. Heron asks her question again. What is the author saying here? She says in a ripple of lips. Eyes to the page. To her. To the page. A shy shake of the head. An ever practiced routine. I peek at her from under my bangs to see a firm look of disappointment. Oh, if only she knew.
She doesn't know though. She can't. She won't. No one does. Can. Will. I'm normal. I have always been normal. I will be normal. I have to be.
YOU ARE READING
Hushed
RandomA deaf girl with a harsh mother struggles to keep her deafness a secret. "I am normal. Can't you tell? Perfectly. Normal. Gorgeous, silent, mysterious. The girls want to be me. Everyone wants to have my mother as theirs. Every guy wants to be with m...
