Hush

1: Mother Knows Best

I can't remember what noise sounds like. The last time I ever heard something was when I was 5 years old, 11 years ago. When you're deaf, you don't hear sound. You feel sound. You have to learn how to read lips, because if someone can't use sign language, it would be hard to communicate. My mother learned sign language really quick, so she could talk to me. She isn't perfect, but she does well enough for me to understand. At least it's only her and I. Plus, I don't talk. So she definitely needed to know how to use sign language. Unless you're deaf yourself, it's hard to understand why it's so hard to speak. I mean, have you ever tried to speak without being able to hear yourself? It usually doesn't sound right. Sometimes, it will sound like a toddler trying to talk.

My mother greets me with, "Do you want to go to a school with people like you?"

Not again. "No, mother." I respond with. For the hundredth time.

"Why not? It'll be easier for you." She smiles.

"Because I don't want to be treated like I'm special!" I'm not special. I'm not different. I'm a human just like everyone else.

"But you are special, darling. Not in a bad way, just in a different way." My mother says.

"I'm tired of you telling me this everyday! I'm not going there! And I am NOT special!" I demand.
Instead of standing there, waiting for a response, I walk promptly to my room and sit down in front of my computer. What does she know anyway? I type in "Buzz", a social messaging app. As I scroll through all of the names in my friends list, a notification pops up. Someone sent me a message. The message is from a guy named Zach. It reads, "Hello Azalea, I really like your name. It's beautiful." That's a strange way to try and start a conversation. I reply with, "Thank you, and how did you get my account?" Must've been a mutual friend. Anyway, he probably won't get back to me for a while so I should just go read. I walk over to my bookshelf to pick a book to read. What to choose, there are so many. Most I've already read many times over. So I should read one I haven't before. Ah, this one. I reach my hand out and grab a book called "Switching You and Me". What an interesting title! I hope the story is just as interesting. Reading makes me tired and I slowly drifted off to sleep. It's not like my mother will care. She never does.