A Silent Heart

Chapter 1

Irene

The cabinet door creaked open, and I reached for a bowl before closing it with a click. I broke the two eggs on the surface of the counter. Crack. Crack. I whisked the eggs, and a rhythmic clink of the fork filled the kitchen as it hit the glass bowl. 

The tea kettle whistled. The egg mixture sizzled in the pan, followed by salt and pepper. 

I leaned on the counter, looking through the window. The autumn wind blew outside with whooshing sounds.

Or at least that was what it would have sounded like to anyone else. Not me.

I was deaf.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my teenage little brother sneaking in through the front door. I sighed and turned my head towards him. He froze. Sometimes I wondered if he thought I was blind, too. 

He looked at me with a sheepish expression. Blue eyes that looked nothing like my dark brown ones were hazy and red.

Not again. I gestured for him to sit at the table while I flipped the omelet, before taking out my marker and small board, my way of communication with him for five years now. I wrote with furious strokes.

'We already talked about this! At least hold back when it's a school night. You have the weekend to party all you want.'

His eyes squinted as he tried to read the words. He rolled his eyes.

"Sis, you worry too much. I'm a sophomore, I can afford to have a little fun every once in a while," he said. Well, that's what I thought he said. I was very confident in my lip-reading skills. 

I just shook my head while transferring the eggs to a plate. I put some burned toast, just the way he liked it, on the side with a glass of orange juice.

"Thanks," he said, taking a bite of his food. 

'Are you skipping again?' I asked, using my trusted board. He nodded, focusing on his food. He avoided my gaze until the very last bite. After gulping down the juice in one go, he scrambled to his feet.

"Thanks for the food," he said, walking inside his bedroom and closing the door behind him. I looked around our shabby two-bedroom apartment. Four pale walls where I had lived for three years with my brother. Lately, it was almost always deserted. I only came here to sleep after a long day of juggling two jobs, and my brother never seemed to be here except to eat or whenever his 'friends' were too busy for him. 

Looking outside the window to the morning sky, I prayed that this was only a phase, that he would soon get his head on straight. Everything I was doing, was for him. I wanted him to have a future brighter than mine. I had been saving so he could go to college and make something out of himself. But these days, I realized that those were only my dreams for him. I wondered if he even shared my hopes.

I picked up some dry toast and my bag and then headed out. It was still early, but I had to catch an early ride on the bus to get there in time. The place I had been assigned to for around a year now was on the other side of the city, where expensive suits were a familiar sight on the streets, and skyscrapers teased the sky. A far cry from the sketchy alleys and the neglected streets of my neighbourhood.

I made sure I had the small notebook and the pen within reach when I took my usual seat on the bus. I never really needed them, though. That was one of the good things about big cities; everyone kept to themselves, and small talk about inconsequential things like the weather was nonexistent. That worked well for me since, for obvious reasons, I couldn't really make small talk.