A Winter Storm

Putting On A Show

I remember the sounds as if it was just yesterday that I last heard them. It is so strange to know I'll never hear any of them again. The sound of water running, the wind rustling leaves in the trees.The simple things are what I remember most though like the rain falling on roof tops or the gentle sound of my my mom's voice or the deep gravel of my fathers. But what I miss more than my hearing, more than anything, is my parents, they used to sit by the warm fire in our little cottage, holding me as they sang me to sleep after a bad dream or when we would go hiking in the mountains until I got so tired my father had carried me back.

It has been years since any of that happened since I last saw my parents, since I last heard the wonders of the world.

When they found me I was barely hanging on to life, in a coma they told me. They didn't even realize that I went deaf until weeks after I woke up. I had stopped talking, I stopped acknowledging everything and everyone. Everyone just thought it was from the trauma of losing my family but that was only part of it. It wasn't until I had my first seizure that they realize something was wrong.

I remember back to those days as I sat in my bed. I looked over to see all the other girls sleeping throughout the room. Day after day I see them get adopted the families loving them instantly. I longed for a family and for someone to take me away from this retched orphanage. There was three times someone adopted me when I was younger but by the end of the month each time I was back here because they couldn't deal with me and my needs.

I was left broken when they brought me back and I remember telling myself that I would never leave again for fear that it will happen once more so after that each time someone came to meet me I would put on a show, screaming and yelling and pranks galore to ward them away and it worked every time no one wanted the little trouble maker.

I grabbed my book wrapping my blanket around me as I went to the window seat in the room. Instead of reading I looked up at the stars closing my eyes to make a wish. I opened my eyes back up just in time to watch a shooting star fall across the sky. Well that was good timing, I thought to myself. i sat there for a while until I felt something moving around downstairs and coming upstairs. The vibrations shaking the floor ever so slightly. I ran to my bed and laid down  just before Ms Jones came in. 

Ms Jones was an awful old lady who looked about as cruel as she actually was. She dyed her grey hair a gross brownish blonde color and it was almost completely dead from how often she dyed it. Her wrinkled face was plastered with loads of make up that accented each and every line on her face making her look even older than she was.

I took a deep breath as she closed the door. That was a close call i thought. If she had caught me I surely would have been in trouble. I decided to try and sleep since I had a big day tomorrow trying to chase away the new family that was going to look at me for adoption.

My social worker, Sally, who was my one and only friend and also was the only person I would listen to or even acknowledge. She told me this family seemed different and she encouraged me to give this one a chance but she knows I won't she knows tomorrow I will put on a facade seeming absolutely unbearable.

It wasn't until I finally dozed off the nightmares came. The memories of the night I lost everything. I woke up screaming and saw Sally my social worker standing next to my bed

"Wynter did you have another nightmare?" she signed as she spoke. I gave her a slight nod. "I'm sorry sweetheart I wish I could take them away. What time did you end up going to sleep last night"

'shortly after 3' I signed to her looking away. I felt her sigh hit my face and looked back up

"Wynter you need to start going to bed sooner, you can't just keep running on a couple hours of sleep" she said handing me my medicine