Disabilities and Disorders- Short Stories

Chase

Chase - 15 - Synesthesia- Does NOT know he has Syn(Synesthesia)

"That's enough!" A harsh voice yells. I jump. I picture a quarter. Every time someone says "That's enough", I see a quarter. Don't ask me why, as I don't know. My social studies teacher, Mr. Saldo, walks in. Everything I see is  tinted with red. I still see normal colors, I just also see red over it. "Charity, what in the world are you doing?" He calls. Red switches to purple. Every time I see or hear Charity's name, I see purple. It drives me nuts sometimes. I continue to work, and then a pencil drops. Purple is now gray. A chair moves. Gray turns to a darker shade. "CHASE." He teacher yells. I look up, scared. "Yes, Mr. Saldo?" I reply. "Step out into the hall for a moment, please." He says. I panic. Going into the hall is NOT good. Very bad. I walk out into the hall. Mr. Saldo follows me. "Chase, for the last time." He pauses and holds out my paper "Haven't I told you not to do this?" I look at my notes. Every letter is a different color, but every 'a' is the same color, every 'b' is the same color. "Yes, sir." I say in a small voice. Mr. Saldo looks at the paper again. "Can you tell me why the 'a's are the exact same color as they were on the last set of notes?" Isn't it obvious? I'm writing them in their official colors! "Because they are in their official colors!" I shout. The room is tinted with orange. Someone from the class peers out, until   Mr. Saldo gives them a look that says 'stop'. "What do you mean?" He asked. Grumpy, old Mr. Saldo sounded different. Empathetic. "They all have certain colors that they should be in." I say, still worried on what will happen. "Come with me." He says

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The school's therapist walks back into the room. Mr. Saldo brought me to see her. I don't know why. She calls for me to walk into her office. "What's wrong with me?" I ask right away. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you. You're different, that's all!" She says. I'm confused. She can tell I am, so she says "I'll assume you haven't heard of Synesthesia." I'm even more confused. "Syn-what?" She explains "Synesthesia. It's a brain disorder that causes two or more senses to mix together." I don't have a disorder. "What does that have to do with anything?" I ask. "Everything. You believe numbers have colors, that's your sense of sight and color mixing together. There are endless possibilities of it. Some people see pictures when they hear words" The quarter. "Some people see letters, numbers, you name it, having personalities." I look at her. "Why do I have it?" I ask. She looks at me. "Well, the cause of it isn't known. But, it must be pretty cool to have your senses mix together. I bet it makes you creative." I think. "Well, people say I do well describing color..." She says "See? It's not all that bad!"

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The bus pulls to a stop. I get off, and I run home. The therapist gave me a form my mom needs to sign. I don't know what it's for, but I think I'll be fine. Everyone in my social studies class laughed at me, hoping I got in trouble. But I payed no attention to them. I opened the door. My mom said, "I got a call from the therapist" I wonder if my mom is upset... "She explained how you have Synesthesia, and what it is. It must be pretty neat!" She continued. Phew. She isn't worried or upset. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe it isn't too bad after all.