We The Misfits

dear rosa//letter 04

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Dear Rosa,

I'm so sorry for not writing to you earlier. Saxon...had come back and well . . .you know what happens when he's around. I don't have much to say because well, there's isn't much to say and also I'm writing to with my left hand because my right arm is broken. (Aye, the perks of being ambidextrous.) Instead, I'm just going to attach this letter. This is what Harper wrote to me:

Zed,

Robyn tells me that I should start this letter with 'dear Zed' but that just seemed waaaaaaayyyyy too formal. So, here it goes.

I'm sorry. Or am I? I don't know. I don't know what to feel. Of course, I understand that you're shocked. Am I mute or am I not? What's going on?

So, I'll tell you. I'll tell you about this muteness. I'll tell you how this started and I hope you find it in yourself to understand me.

I... I was talkative kid. Really talkative. People used to tell me to shut up because I just never kept quiet. I loved talking. I loved making people laugh. I was addicted to laughter. I felt like my purpose in life was to make people laugh. God, I loved laughter. And because of the fact that I never kept quite...and I hailed from a rich family, I had lots of friends. Lots and lots of friends and I loved them. I'd do anything to help them out if they were in trouble.

When Dominic and I was 10, we met with an accident which affected us in ways we'd never dreamt of. I lost my voice. It damaged my vocal cords and I was mute. Countless of surgeries were done on me and finally, it worked but there was a problem.

The doctor warned me that my voice would be nasally initially but it would eventually go away and I'd have my normal voice back. Only if I didn't stress my vocals too much. But I thought it was okay...of course it was okay! I could talk! I could still make people laugh! I could make silly jokes and people would laugh. Everything would be fine.

But no. It wasn't. I was bullied for my voice. My friends left me. And because I was so desperate to make people laugh and because I wasn't used to being quiet...I talked a lot and that was fatal to my vocals.

By this time, it was too late, I guess. I was severely bullied. At one point of time, a person who I considered to be my best friend held a pocket knife to my throat threatening to slit it if I continued to talk.

And Zed, it wasn't just my friends. My parents were ashamed. So fucking ashamed. "Harper, honey, don't talk," they'd say.

So, I got the message. I had to shut up. Fucking shut up. And I tried, Zed, I really did but it was SO HARD. How could a guy who never believed in being quiet suddenly become best friends with silence?

And it was during this time, I shared my pain with the stars and the moon. They never seemed so appealing before.         I'd sit on my window seat, lean on the window sill and stare at them. And I never had to talk. I just had to look at them and they understood. They understood my pain.

The only people who didn't mind my silence was Dominic and Robyn. I still remember the day they brought me books of sign language and together we learned.

My parents were furious but I remember  not giving a shit about what they thought. How on earth could the son of a lawyer prefer stars over law?!

How?!

Yeah, well, here we are. I studied intensively about the galaxies, constellations and God, I was marvelled. WHY would anyone prefer anything over this?

(Uh, personal opinion, bro.)

By this time, my parents were desperate to hear me talk. I hadn't talked in a long time which means my voice was back to normal but it was too late. I found silence way more louder than words. I loved silence. I loved it.

Can I speak? I can. Will I ever? Probably not. I never did. I want you to know that what I said today is the first time I've talked in six years.

And Zed...that's my story. This is me. And...I want you to know that I'm sorry for what happened to you. You don't deserve it. Hell, no one does.

I've known you for about two weeks and you always go on about being normal. Look and I want this to stick in your head, okay? Normal is cool. Normal is awesome, can I ask you something, though?

What is normal?

Is it not wearing makeup? Not having feeling for the one that you have feeling for because society tells you not to? Being accepted by society? Rebuking people who like expressing themselves? Is that it?

If so, then let me tell you this: Normal isn't reality. The 'normal' people aren't given shits of reality. They don't know what it feels like to express themselves, do they, Zed? They don't know how happy you are to put makeup on your face, do they?

They don't. They're swimming towards the flow of the current. You're swimming against it and when was that ever wrong?

And it's time you realised it.

You, Dominic, Robyn and me are a bunch of misfits according to society. But in our worlds, we are perfectly normal and trust me, that's all that matters.

Hope you get well soon,

Harper

Normal isn't reality. Normal isn't reality. Okay. Normal isn't reality. Fuck, I'm so sorry that the paper is kinda wet and all that I've written is smudged. It's just ... I can't stop crying but I guess that's good, right? How long has it been since I've cried?

Much love,
Zed