Barriers

Hermione

Hey friend,
I've been reading for the past two hours, trust me it gets boring being deaf. No music, no television, no cinemas, no talking with friends. I'm used to no one really caring or taking any notice of me. I guess it's okay.

Mollie comes in to my room around lunchtime, I'm not even sure if she bothers knocking anymore. She sits beside me and takes my journal from my nightstand and jots something that I can't even read, I shrug and frown at her. An arm goes round my shoulder and I put my head in my hands uncomfortably. She then tries again to write her message, this time in capital letters and more spread out. "Shall we try again?" It reads. I know exactly what she means. She simply means that she wants me to try and learn some form of sign language again, but long story short, I believe there's no point. Practically no one even cares or bothers to try and communicate with me so as I say, it's pointless. So I shake my head in response and she puts her cold hand onto my knee. "You've got to try sometime, how's anything ever going to work out if you can't communicate with anyone?" She scrawls in my notepad, and all I do is shrug yet again and roll my eyes.

What would I have to say to anyone anyway? I barely even spoke to anyone when I was able to, why should I now?

Once she leaves, I grab my sketchbook from my desk and begin to draw. I draw a girl running away, tears streaming down her face, clutching a backpack tightly. This gets me thinking, maybe I could run away? Maybe I could start a new life on my own? The concept seems ridiculous, but I know it's what I want.

Later, I go downstairs for dinner seeing as I hadn't eaten the sandwich Mollie brought to my room earlier. It was pizza night, and the kids were being fussy as ever, a few were even crying because "their" slice of pizza was taken by someone else. I take a couple slices on a plate and pour myself a diet Coke before taking it up to my room, I can't stand eating with everyone else. In fact, it's mainly that I'm unable to join in with the conversation that goes on across the table that stresses me out. So, I take my food upstairs and begin to work on another drawing, as it seems to be what's helping me at the moment.