Katie And I

• Luca Imelfort, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2021

I can hear everything! Meningitis when I was six made me deaf, but now I can hear. I can hear the cars, and the birds’ sweet songs. I can hear the harmony of the world; all the people, animals, and vehicles, working together to create a melodic symphony of chaos and beauty. I love it. I can’t wait to go to school. For almost my entire life, I have been making up what everyone says about me, but now finally I will be able to talk to people, and not have to struggle to read their lips as they quickly mutter their response.
I have pictured what school might sound like many times in my head, but I never once imagined that it would be this loud. It hurts my ears to try to block out all the overwhelming chatter of my classmates, but I still love being able to hear. Nobody knows that I’m not deaf yet so I’m going to surprise them. I’m going to tell Valerie first. She sashays up to me, smirking. In my imagination, Valerie is so clever and kind, complementing on everything, of course that may not be what she actually says, but I think I’m close.
Once she moves close enough I excitedly say, “Hi Val!”
The way Valerie looks, bored is an understatement, she looks at her feet and says, “I can’t believe I’m expected to talk to Sophie.” I can’t believe it. Valerie, the upbeat, kind-hearted friend I thought I had hates me! Then I hear it. Val isn’t the only one who doesn’t want me here, everyone is talking about me, Sophie the stupid deaf girl.
I can hear everything! I can hear everyone I thought was my friend talking about me, saying I’m stupid, or boring, or annoying. I feel like screaming. My head is spinning, rejection courses through my veins, flooding my thoughts. I’m not deaf. A truth that I can’t seem to tell them, to say out loud. I can’t speak. It feels like I’m in one of those horrible nightmares, where you want to scream but you can’t seem to open your mouth. Swimming in the pool of my classmate’s hatred, I can’t bring my head up to breathe. I’m not deaf. I need to tell them, “I’M NOT DEAF!”
Then it’s silent. I’m so used to silence. Blinking away a waterfall of tears, I look up to see a girl walking carefully towards me. Her name is Katie. She has long, wavy, orange hair, and freckles. In my thoughts she would never participate in this cruelty. She takes my hand and whispers in my ear, “I’m sorry.” And then I’m okay. If the rest of the class hates me, that’s okay too. Katie is my friend now. I turn my back, expecting everyone to go back to their usual discriminatory selves, but one by one they come up to me and apologise. Now they know. I can hear everything! And now they know.