Lost Sounds | Teen Ink

Lost Sounds

August 25, 2014
By RynKep SILVER, Bloomington, Indiana
RynKep SILVER, Bloomington, Indiana
6 articles 0 photos 2 comments

  It finally happened. The dreaded time has come to pass. I see my mother crying. I know she is crying for my loss, but I just feel numb. It isn’t like we didn’t see it coming. The doctors had said that this could happen at any time when I went to the doctors about it the first time. They say it could be slow or sudden. For me, it was so painfully slow. I was in sixth grade when I started to loose sound. I remember my mom crying then too, but she held it together long enough to get my dad to sign us all up for sign-language courses. I’m fluent now. My eyes have gotten sharper since the beginning. And so has my touch. I can feel the change in breezes and can see when someone tenses up. I left my parents to cry in peace. I needed to be alone. In my room I cried a little. I knew that I needed company. My parents were out of the question. would just look at me with pity and sadness. I wouldn’t be able to stay sane with then in such agony. I knew of only one place I could go and have a slight chance of a normal day. I grabbed my phone, now only good for texting and game apps, and my favorite book, worn from the many times I reread it. I left my Ipod on the dock to collect dust, it had no use for me anymore. I left through the backdoor, I couldn’t see my parents’ sympathetic faces. I crossed the backyard to my neighbor’s yard and knocked on their door, not knowing if I knocked loud enough. My best friend since childhood opened the door, grinned, and greeted me with a “hey” I couldn’t hear. I shook my head. His smile didn’t waver as he switched to sign-language, something he joined us in when he found out about my condition, and lead me into the house. He treated me like usual, grabbing some milk and cookies and telling me stories like he used too and although I couldn’t hear it, he was laughing. As the sun set I went home for dinner. I knew it would be hard, but with my memories of sound, I knew that I could survive in my soundless world.

The author's comments:

I'm not actually deaf, for those who are wondering. I wanted practice, writing about loss, disabilities, and weaknesses. 

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