Silent Emotions

18. Austin's side of the story

"Are you a fucking idiot?!"

My ears rang from not being used to loud noises. And who knew my own dad could muster up such a loud voice. Is this what yelling is? I've never seen him be so mad. A part of me couldn't fathom my usually calm and empathetic dad to be.. yelling.

At me.

I watch his face become darker shades of red from anger. For all my life I've become so numb from negative emotions such as anger, resentment, disgust.. I figured it was easy since I couldn't hear them. I figured I could just look away and close my eyes. That way I can block it all. My therapist calls it a "coping mechanism." When I think it's just me being stubborn. Em would've laughed and rubbed it in my face as "I told you so."

She would start with this petty smirk or hers. I call it the Emma smirk. She'll scrunch her nose trying to stop herself from grinning with her self satisfaction. She loves telling me I told you so. As much as I love to he stubborn.

"I can't believe you could do that to her!" Dad grunts as he reaches for a vase. "Dad.. dad.. stop--" I jump to my left to avoid him throwing a vase at my face. The poor inanimate object hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces. He continues to grab anything around him to throw at me. While I easily avoid them.. except for a few pillows. By then I was too overcome with fatigue.

"--it's not her fault." He huffed out. Sweat and tears cascading down his now pink stained cheeks. I slide down the wall while he peacefully sat on the ground with me. More like crawl since he did hobble out of his wheelchair to kick my butt.

"Do you not realize how fucking lucky you are to have Emma?" He asked. My heart felt like it was being squeezed any and every time her name is mention.

All I could think of is why?

Why me?

Why her?

Why is everyone perfectly fucking fine with how everything is?

For so long I kept my chin up. I became this person everyone expected me to be. That day I met Emma in preschool was when I knew. I knew I had to put effort in. I had to start living.  I had to do it on my own. Whether I was hearing or not. Whether I was normal or not.

My disability didn't define me. It's how I deal with it should be what defines me and yet.. everything that I worked for is just gone now.

"You made me promise to live. To try and give myself a chance," I start to tear up. "So let me ask you this," I lock eyes with my dad who struggle to stop himself from crying. For years not one of us have shed a tear filled with so much raw emotion. It was sort of an unspoken rule to avoid each other once tears form. Even if you have to look away and pretend everything is okay.

I can no longer pretend.

"How are you okay with letting the people who hurt us walk around like nothing happened?!" I yelled. It felt as if there was an earthquake growling in my throat. My ears rang from the thunder like volume my body produced.

"Mom is dead!" I pointed to my moms portrait that dropped on the ground. "And Amber? In case you haven't noticed, she's in pain so much pain."

"She's in pain even when she breathes. How can you be okay with that?"

"If you really want to know I need you to promise me you will listen to me till the end. No interrupting, no questions, nothing. Let me share my piece and then you can decide. But you need to promise me one thing," dad said with a calm voice. I nodded, "Anything."

"You can't hate Emma. Promise me you won't and I'll start telling you everything," he smiles sadly.

"I can't promise that," I gulped. His face falls as if I'd murdered someone in front of him.