The Next Day at school
Renee's POV
"Freak." He said, right in my face, he grinned, like he knew it hurt me. A crowd was beginning to form. I wasn't going to let this continue throughout the year. It needed to stop. Now. I grabbed his arm and spun him around. His face was surprised.
I said, "Stop talking to me like that." He said, "Or what?" I said, "Nothing, I won't do anything. You think you're winning, but you're not. If I didn't want to hear what you said, I could just look away, but I don't. And do you know why? Because it makes you feel better, you feel like you have power. Here, yeah, you do. But I know what happens in your home, the power you don't have. They hurt you, your parents. They yell at you and make you feel hurt, so you push some of that on me, because you think it'll take some of it off of your shoulders. You might think that, you might not. But, I put up with it, because I don't want you to hurt anyone else. Because if you lose your power over me, what do you have left? Nothing. But I don't want to be your punching bag anymore. You might not believe this, but I used to actually want to be your friend Cameron. I felt sorry for you, I saw your dad hit you, I see your mom yell at you. I've seen you cry, I've seen you hurt. And you don't deserve any of it. But neither do I. Yeah, I'm a freak, I'm deaf. I can't hear, I miss out on a lot. I know that everyone says things about me, and I'll never know, because as long as I'm not looking directly at your mouth, I can't tell. But because I don't hear it, it doesn't hurt me. But you do."
Cameron looked like he might cry. He signed, "Im sorry." I was shocked. He knew sign language? I signed, "Let me help you." He started to cry, so I hugged him. From behind I waved off the crowd. They left, with faces of surprise and shock. He let go of me, I turned around and saw Ross, he was leaning against a locker, smiling at me. His arms crossed, but he looked, satisfied. Then he walked away.
Cameron signed, "I’m sorry I hurt you." I said, "How do you know how to sign?" He said, "When I was little, my dad and I went on a camping trip, he got mad and put the gun near my head and shot, not me, but the blast deafened me. I was deaf. But I got a surgery. I know how you feel, and I hurt you, which was so wrong. Being deaf is awful, I can remember the last thing I heard, and every time I hear it, instead of thinking what it meant, I thought of you." I hugged him again. I said, "I forgive you."
