I hear you

Everyone’s laughing, but I can’t hear them.

I can’t hear anything at all.

I couldn’t hear anything since I turned 5 because around that age, I was diagnosed to be profoundly deaf. I remember my mom crying after the doctor shook his head. He looked at me sadly and I thought, ah, it must be bad.

As my mom cried, my dad held her tight. He was trying to be strong, but his tears also spoke of sadness and pity.

Pity.

That was all I see in everyone’s faces whenever they look at me since then. They felt bad for the girl who could no longer hear.

My mom felt bad for me the most. This did happen on her watch, but I never once blamed her. She loved me with her all and worked hard to provide me with what she thought I deserved. My dad also worked hard. He goes to work before the sun rises and returns home late at night to save enough for my school. He and mom wanted to send me to the town's only school for the deaf, and by the time I turned 10, their savings became enough.

It was a new environment for me, but I didn't have a hard time adjusting the way that I did with my old school. I was surrounded by people like me, and for the first time since I became deaf, I felt like I belonged.

I didn’t have to try so hard just to fit in. I had friends and playmates and everyone never looked at me with pity.

I was happy, but that happiness was cut short when I turned 14.

My father became ill. He could no longer work, and we had no choice but to cut off our expenses. My mom had to take some of their savings for me in order to save dad, so I had no other choice but to transfer to a normal high school: West River High.

It was there that I met Jillian, the overly energetic and only friend that I had in West River High. She first ran into me on our way to class. We were both transferees and lost, at the time, so she decided to stick with me after learning we share the same class. After that, she didn’t bother giving me space.

I remember writing down, aren’t you embarrassed to be seen hanging out with a deaf like me?

I remember showing her that note looking sheepish and awkward, but she shook her head and wrote back, why would I? We’re friends, right? She then smiled and mouthed, "I like hanging out with you."

I didn't know how to respond, but since then I wanted to make things easier for her to communicate with me. I started to focus on reading people's mouths. It's funny how it's a game for others, but for someone like me, it's an extra effort to keep your friends.

Jillian was a very talkative person. She would talk for hours, sometimes forgetting that I couldn't even hear her, but I enjoy reading her lips. Sometimes, she takes her time mouthing words and writing them down whenever she sees me having a hard time to catch up, and I appreciate her for that.

"I hope you don't mind me mouthing words to you instead of writing them down, Serena. I have terrible penmanship," she once said.

I chuckled and wrote down, It's not a problem.

"Hey, can you teach me sign language?"

Okay, I signed to her. I'm glad she asked, because I would happily welcome her to my own silent world anytime.

Life became a little brighter ever since Jillian and I became friends. She would often come over, and my mom would be so happy. She signed to me one time, you're like sisters, and Jillian would agree.

Jillian said she had always wanted a twin sister, and she's glad we look almost the same, except for our hair and eye color; she's a redhead with big brown eyes, while I'm a brunette with olive green eyes. Of course, she can hear while I can't, but aside from that, we can really pass as twins. It was actually her idea to go as Erika and Princess Anneliese, who can also pass as twins, from Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper, on my 18th birthday.

But we never got to do it, because a few weeks before I turned 18, Jillian disappeared.

It wasn’t until a week later when I received any updates about her. I was texted to rush on an alley beside a club for Jillian.

I already had a bad feeling about what to expect, but seeing it with my own two eyes was a whole kind of shock and mental rejection.

Police tapes were all around the place. Police officers were trying so hard to keep the nosy crowd in control, but a number of news teams seem to make their jobs a little more difficult with the distracting camera flashes.

Through the alley were a bunch of investigators squatting down to check a bloody body covered in sheet. I was in denial, but I knew that shade of red hair all too well.

I couldn't believe it, is Jillian really dead?

"You must be Ms. Collins," I read an investigator's mouth as he tried to speak to me. "I'm so sorry about what happened to Ms. Acre. A witness found her just this morning. There seemed to be no missing object from her bag, but we think this was a mugging gone wrong."

Why did you call me? Where's her parents? I wrote down for the investigator to read. He doesn't seemed to mind; I think he already knows I couldn't hear, but isn't aware that I could read what he says.

You were listed as Ms. Acre's only emergency contact. We think what happened to her was a mugging gone wrong, but we're still looking into it. For the mean time, we have a few questions for you. Are you aware that Ms. Acre was working for a company called "S.P.Y."?