Silence Speaks Louder
One.
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Emilee Taylor's pen stopped abruptly on the notebook paper she had previously been scribbling geography notes on. The teacher, Mr. Curado, had turned to write a term on the board, and by her classmates' furiously moving pens, she guessed he was still talking. The first month of school was always the hardest for the teachers with Emilee in their class. By the end of the quarter, they'd adapt to pausing while writing on the board.
Suddenly, Mr. Curado turned back to the class, his term only half-way written. He looked right at Emilee as he apologized. "It's okay, I understand," she replied in a clear, enunciated voice. Emilee's perfect speech was a result of learning to speak while she could still hear, one advantage of gradual deafness rather than being born that way.
No one was really sure why it had happened, but it did, and by the time she was eight years old, she could hear absoloutely nothing at all. The whole deafness situation gave an entirely new meaning to the expression loud silence It was not an oxymoron, it was truth. When all you heard was silence, then it was the loudest thing in the world.
Adaptation, however, is the key to survival, and even at age eight Emilee knew this. Sign language was what she relied on until she was twelve years old, when she began reading lips. Home schooling was a necessity when she lost her hearing, but was no longer a problem when Emilee began answering questions that were spoken rather than signed by her mother. It was definately an advantage in the life of a sophmore attending a public high school, especially with the gossip.
The talk of the town that particular day was about the returning rockstars. Of course Emilee had heard of the Jonas Brothers, figuratively speaking, but they were of no importance to her. She couldn't tell if they were talented or not unless she was close enough, which she doubted would ever happen. They were probably big-headed boys anyway. The lights of Hollywood tended to pull teenagers victim to its own horrors.
Her classmates began collecting their books, and Emilee assumed the bell had rung. Copying down the assignment from the white board onto her paper, she gathered her things and was out the door in one swift movement.
Emilee was well aware of the chatter of teenage girls, mostly about the return of the no longer boyish Nick Jonas. "Have you seen him?" one girl, Morgan asked her friend. Emilee imagined an emphasis on the word seen. Her friend's eyes widened. "Its kind of hard not to," she replied. Emilee rolled her eyes. A single boy had turned an entire honors class of sophmore girls stupid. Didn't take much, did it?
Her locker was located smack in the center of all her class' hallway. It was convenient, but Emilee felt that it had something to do with her deafness. How naive the adults were. An honors student treated as if she were mentally challenged simply because she couldn't hear. What a pathetic world.
Upon reaching the black locker, she quickly dialed her combination before pulling the metal door open and stuffing her geography binder in. Emilee grabbed her current book infatuation, The Host by Stephenie Meyer, and closed the locker door quickly before she had a chance to glance at it.
A mirror was usually a common accessory in countless girls' lockers, but to Emilee, it was a curse. Her mother was the one to force her to hang it there, so she was always reminded that even if she couldn't hear, she was beautiful. Emilee thought the idea was stupid, especially for someone her age. On top of that, she didn't like to dwell on appearances. Partially because she was convinced she was nothing to look at. No, Emilee knew she wasn't ugly by any means, but she also knew she wasn't exactly pretty. She was just... plain. All except her eyes.
They were a mediium gold color, with a dark green ring around the outside edge. They were light near the middle, but faded to a darker ocher near the green. Other than that particular trait, her features were rather boring. A plain face, skinny build, and the hands of a musician. No one really understood her need to play a violin if she couldn't herself enjoy the sound. She alone was the keeper of that knowledge.
Emilee didn't have to take ten steps to reach her reading class, a period taken lightly by her classmates. It was a quiet period, a time supposed to be dedicated to silent reading, but was usually spent passing notes. Emilee, however, thoroughly enjoyed reading. It beat television or movies by a landslide, and even then she had to read the subtitles. Books were easier for her to keep up with.
Gossiping girls were all crowded together and by their lips, she realized the boy wonder would be in her class. Joy, she thought to herself as she settled down in her desk. There was a book report due the next week and Emilee knew that would be the least of the other girls' worries. Emilee couldn't help but wonder, though, if she would have been the same way if she were able to hear.
The teacher, Mrs. Hammond, called the class to order, and Emilee found herself very grateful. She didn't want to watch the girls gush about a voice of an angel or how much they loved the Jonas Brothers's new album. All things Emilee had no business with. It was times like that she was happy she could no longer understand the girls if she looked away.
No matter how grateful Emilee was for Mrs. Hammond's obvious intentions, the silence of moving lips was cut short by the brown-eyed, curly-haired boy who suddenly appeared at the doorway. Emilee, among the other boys in her class, rolled her eyes at the girls' reaction.
Surprisingly, he looked scared. Not really first-day-of-school scared, but more of a scared-for-his-life scared. He half-smiled and Emilee didn't nead hearing to know that every girl in that room sighed heavily. With the knowledge that Mrs. Hammond never gave a speech at the beginning of her class, she dove into her book, straight underground, and into the hole Wanderer and Melanie were in as Jared gaurded nearby.
If she hadn't caught the sudden movement from the corner of her eye, she wouldn't have realized Nick was sitting down in the seat behind her. She ignored this, however, and her focus was back on the book.
She had gotten no further than three pages before she realized reading was impossible with the chaos going on around her. Mrs. Hammond was completely oblivious, typing something into the computer near her desk. Emilee was really the only one to realize the havoc taking place, because the girls must have been whispering quietly. Nick must have opened his mouth, she concluded.
Emilee turned to glare at him, but he was slumped as far down as he could be in his chair, reading a thick hardcover book without a name printed on it, his lips still. He was trying to blend, she realized, and that took her by surprise. The attention seemed unwanted and a phrase her mother had often repeated popped into her mind. Don't judge a book by its cover. As Emilee turned back to face the way she had been sitting, she half-smiled. How hypocritical of her. Nick didn't judge a book by its cover, obviously, for the book he was reading had none. The smile remained prominant on her face as she tried to get back to reading her book, thinking about her own little joke.
The fact that Nick didn't want the attention did not keep him from getting it, though, and Emilee found herself angrily shutting her book before resting her elbows on the desktop to rub her temples. She looked up to meet Mrs. Hammond's gaze and her expression changed as she realized that even though Emilee was deaf, it didn't mean she couldn't hear, once again figuratively speaking.
"Ladies, self-control," she reminded them and Emilee smiled a thanks to her. Mrs. Hammond was her favorite teacher, not because it was so easy to pass her class, but because she was the most understanding. Emilee didn't miss the mental daggers being thrown at her head by the females in her room, either.
Emilee raised her hand and Mrs. Hammond's eyes returned to her. "I'd feel more comfortable if I could read in the hallway, please?" Mrs. Hammond nodded and Emilee thanked her quickly before grabbing her things and standing up. Everyone's eyes followed her as she quickly strode out of the classroom. She sighed as she settled to the cold, dirty floor and leaned against a row of lockers by the classroom's doorway. Finally, she was at peace.
[&silence]
The soft New Jersey breeze calmed Emilee's nerves as she walked the two blocks to her home from the school's parking lot. The large trees in yards she passed were blowing lightly and if she could have heard, she was sure there were birds singing. She sighed upon reaching her home, her one and only safe haven from the cruel soundless world outside. She slipped off her shoes as soon as she was inside and let the hardwood floor warm her feet rather than her shoes.
Emilee began to walk to the kitchen where she was sure to find her mother. Of course she was there, dicing tomatoes on the island in the center of the room. "How was your day?" she asked. "Aggrivating," she replied simply before walking to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water from within. "Have a seat," her mother suggested and Emilee was suspicious at once. "Why?" she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Well, I found you a job."
That was usually the biggest problem Emilee faced. Most kids her age were already working, earning their own money, but Emilee couldn't. She couldn't pick up a phone if there were an emergency to hear what the person on the other line was saying. She couldn't hear if someone called for her help from behind her or within another room. There really was nothing she could do.
"Yes?"
"A family just moved in down the street. The mother teaches hearing impared children and she needs an aide to help her teach sign language. You already know sign language and I told her that you would be perfect for it," her mother replied, setting down the knife and wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing before looking at her daughter.
There really was nothing she could do except that, Emilee reasoned. Sure, it wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but this was something she had experience with. This was something she knew.
"When do I start?"
Emilee Taylor's pen stopped abruptly on the notebook paper she had previously been scribbling geography notes on. The teacher, Mr. Curado, had turned to write a term on the board, and by her classmates' furiously moving pens, she guessed he was still talking. The first month of school was always the hardest for the teachers with Emilee in their class. By the end of the quarter, they'd adapt to pausing while writing on the board.
Suddenly, Mr. Curado turned back to the class, his term only half-way written. He looked right at Emilee as he apologized. "It's okay, I understand," she replied in a clear, enunciated voice. Emilee's perfect speech was a result of learning to speak while she could still hear, one advantage of gradual deafness rather than being born that way.
No one was really sure why it had happened, but it did, and by the time she was eight years old, she could hear absoloutely nothing at all. The whole deafness situation gave an entirely new meaning to the expression loud silence It was not an oxymoron, it was truth. When all you heard was silence, then it was the loudest thing in the world.
Adaptation, however, is the key to survival, and even at age eight Emilee knew this. Sign language was what she relied on until she was twelve years old, when she began reading lips. Home schooling was a necessity when she lost her hearing, but was no longer a problem when Emilee began answering questions that were spoken rather than signed by her mother. It was definately an advantage in the life of a sophmore attending a public high school, especially with the gossip.
The talk of the town that particular day was about the returning rockstars. Of course Emilee had heard of the Jonas Brothers, figuratively speaking, but they were of no importance to her. She couldn't tell if they were talented or not unless she was close enough, which she doubted would ever happen. They were probably big-headed boys anyway. The lights of Hollywood tended to pull teenagers victim to its own horrors.
Her classmates began collecting their books, and Emilee assumed the bell had rung. Copying down the assignment from the white board onto her paper, she gathered her things and was out the door in one swift movement.
Emilee was well aware of the chatter of teenage girls, mostly about the return of the no longer boyish Nick Jonas. "Have you seen him?" one girl, Morgan asked her friend. Emilee imagined an emphasis on the word seen. Her friend's eyes widened. "Its kind of hard not to," she replied. Emilee rolled her eyes. A single boy had turned an entire honors class of sophmore girls stupid. Didn't take much, did it?
Her locker was located smack in the center of all her class' hallway. It was convenient, but Emilee felt that it had something to do with her deafness. How naive the adults were. An honors student treated as if she were mentally challenged simply because she couldn't hear. What a pathetic world.
Upon reaching the black locker, she quickly dialed her combination before pulling the metal door open and stuffing her geography binder in. Emilee grabbed her current book infatuation, The Host by Stephenie Meyer, and closed the locker door quickly before she had a chance to glance at it.
A mirror was usually a common accessory in countless girls' lockers, but to Emilee, it was a curse. Her mother was the one to force her to hang it there, so she was always reminded that even if she couldn't hear, she was beautiful. Emilee thought the idea was stupid, especially for someone her age. On top of that, she didn't like to dwell on appearances. Partially because she was convinced she was nothing to look at. No, Emilee knew she wasn't ugly by any means, but she also knew she wasn't exactly pretty. She was just... plain. All except her eyes.
They were a mediium gold color, with a dark green ring around the outside edge. They were light near the middle, but faded to a darker ocher near the green. Other than that particular trait, her features were rather boring. A plain face, skinny build, and the hands of a musician. No one really understood her need to play a violin if she couldn't herself enjoy the sound. She alone was the keeper of that knowledge.
Emilee didn't have to take ten steps to reach her reading class, a period taken lightly by her classmates. It was a quiet period, a time supposed to be dedicated to silent reading, but was usually spent passing notes. Emilee, however, thoroughly enjoyed reading. It beat television or movies by a landslide, and even then she had to read the subtitles. Books were easier for her to keep up with.
Gossiping girls were all crowded together and by their lips, she realized the boy wonder would be in her class. Joy, she thought to herself as she settled down in her desk. There was a book report due the next week and Emilee knew that would be the least of the other girls' worries. Emilee couldn't help but wonder, though, if she would have been the same way if she were able to hear.
The teacher, Mrs. Hammond, called the class to order, and Emilee found herself very grateful. She didn't want to watch the girls gush about a voice of an angel or how much they loved the Jonas Brothers's new album. All things Emilee had no business with. It was times like that she was happy she could no longer understand the girls if she looked away.
No matter how grateful Emilee was for Mrs. Hammond's obvious intentions, the silence of moving lips was cut short by the brown-eyed, curly-haired boy who suddenly appeared at the doorway. Emilee, among the other boys in her class, rolled her eyes at the girls' reaction.
Surprisingly, he looked scared. Not really first-day-of-school scared, but more of a scared-for-his-life scared. He half-smiled and Emilee didn't nead hearing to know that every girl in that room sighed heavily. With the knowledge that Mrs. Hammond never gave a speech at the beginning of her class, she dove into her book, straight underground, and into the hole Wanderer and Melanie were in as Jared gaurded nearby.
If she hadn't caught the sudden movement from the corner of her eye, she wouldn't have realized Nick was sitting down in the seat behind her. She ignored this, however, and her focus was back on the book.
She had gotten no further than three pages before she realized reading was impossible with the chaos going on around her. Mrs. Hammond was completely oblivious, typing something into the computer near her desk. Emilee was really the only one to realize the havoc taking place, because the girls must have been whispering quietly. Nick must have opened his mouth, she concluded.
Emilee turned to glare at him, but he was slumped as far down as he could be in his chair, reading a thick hardcover book without a name printed on it, his lips still. He was trying to blend, she realized, and that took her by surprise. The attention seemed unwanted and a phrase her mother had often repeated popped into her mind. Don't judge a book by its cover. As Emilee turned back to face the way she had been sitting, she half-smiled. How hypocritical of her. Nick didn't judge a book by its cover, obviously, for the book he was reading had none. The smile remained prominant on her face as she tried to get back to reading her book, thinking about her own little joke.
The fact that Nick didn't want the attention did not keep him from getting it, though, and Emilee found herself angrily shutting her book before resting her elbows on the desktop to rub her temples. She looked up to meet Mrs. Hammond's gaze and her expression changed as she realized that even though Emilee was deaf, it didn't mean she couldn't hear, once again figuratively speaking.
"Ladies, self-control," she reminded them and Emilee smiled a thanks to her. Mrs. Hammond was her favorite teacher, not because it was so easy to pass her class, but because she was the most understanding. Emilee didn't miss the mental daggers being thrown at her head by the females in her room, either.
Emilee raised her hand and Mrs. Hammond's eyes returned to her. "I'd feel more comfortable if I could read in the hallway, please?" Mrs. Hammond nodded and Emilee thanked her quickly before grabbing her things and standing up. Everyone's eyes followed her as she quickly strode out of the classroom. She sighed as she settled to the cold, dirty floor and leaned against a row of lockers by the classroom's doorway. Finally, she was at peace.
[&silence]
The soft New Jersey breeze calmed Emilee's nerves as she walked the two blocks to her home from the school's parking lot. The large trees in yards she passed were blowing lightly and if she could have heard, she was sure there were birds singing. She sighed upon reaching her home, her one and only safe haven from the cruel soundless world outside. She slipped off her shoes as soon as she was inside and let the hardwood floor warm her feet rather than her shoes.
Emilee began to walk to the kitchen where she was sure to find her mother. Of course she was there, dicing tomatoes on the island in the center of the room. "How was your day?" she asked. "Aggrivating," she replied simply before walking to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water from within. "Have a seat," her mother suggested and Emilee was suspicious at once. "Why?" she asked as she pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Well, I found you a job."
That was usually the biggest problem Emilee faced. Most kids her age were already working, earning their own money, but Emilee couldn't. She couldn't pick up a phone if there were an emergency to hear what the person on the other line was saying. She couldn't hear if someone called for her help from behind her or within another room. There really was nothing she could do.
"Yes?"
"A family just moved in down the street. The mother teaches hearing impared children and she needs an aide to help her teach sign language. You already know sign language and I told her that you would be perfect for it," her mother replied, setting down the knife and wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing before looking at her daughter.
There really was nothing she could do except that, Emilee reasoned. Sure, it wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but this was something she had experience with. This was something she knew.
"When do I start?"
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