𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥| ᴊᴊᴋ ғғ

1. You... What?

"Y/n!"

"Y/n!"

The teacher tries to call on me, but I don't respond. After sensing a few stares pinned on me, I finally look up from my book in confusion. Why is everyone staring? I look up at the teacher who had her arms crossed.

"You need to pay attention whenever I'm calling people, Y/n," she says. I heard her words clearly through my hearing aids this time, and nodded slowly.

It's not my fault I can't hear. It's not my fault...

.............................................

"Ha! Have fun with that!"

I lip read the bully's words, and with another chuckle, he pushes me to the ground again before turning his back to leave. Why does it always have to be me? I quickly gathered my books and pencils from the floor and rushed to find my hearing aids which had been thrown in the trash by the bully.

My arms and legs ached with bruises, but I still dug around until my fingers grasped around the familiar hard plastic of my behind-the-ear hearing aids. There was a few problems when I took a look at them. One, they were dirty. Two, the case that held the electric parts was cracked, meaning that it could possibly be broken.

I felt my heart drop. These need to work or I can't understand anything! I tried fitting the case back together and trying it on after wiping it with a tissue. Immediately I felt like crying. There was no sound coming from the hallway. There was no chattering or footsteps coming from the students, it was silent just as before. Which meant that the asshole had broken them.

I stood up and blinked the tears away while stumbling to the bathroom to hide. I wanted to start over again, but this felt like the start of everything again. I begged my father to move schools, to forget about my past but this is what I get? I would have to go back to having an interpreter again which meant more harsh words coming from those heartless kids.

I made it into one of the bathroom stalls and silently cried. There won't be enough money for me to get a new pair now. I would have to struggle just like the past few years again.

If only it wasn't me...

.............................................

I walk as slowly as possible the entire way home. The leaves on the trees rustled, but of course I couldn't hear them. My footsteps against the pavement was silent too. Everything felt depressing again, just like before. But I was only scared for the moment I got home. Father would probably be furious when he finds out.

The hearing aids were the most expensive thing I've paid for, and they were the things I treasured the most, more than anything. They gave me a connection with the world, and helped me through the first year of my new school. Now, I felt lost just as before, with nothing but a language nobody knows. I wanted to cry again but resisted myself since I was already at the front door.

With a deep sigh, I slowly twisted the doorknob and stepped in to find my father. He was at the couch watching TV as always. I tapped his shoulder to get his attention and signed to him.

"Appa, something bad happened at school today."

Father glanced at me, agitated. "Use your board," he says. I read his lips and huffed, irritated as I reached for that stupid board in my bag and wrote out: Some bullies broke my hearing aids today, I need new ones.

I saw my father's face slowly go from annoyed, to angry, to pity. There was one of those silent moments that happens when I'm in trouble and I sensed a bad vibe coming. He switched off the TV and turned to me with an unreadable expression. A tiny part of my brain yelled: run Y/n! Father's gonna kill you! Why are you standing here!?

I forced myself to meet my father's eyes, but I couldn't. I was just feeling odd emotions at the moment, and couldn't bring myself to focus on what he had to say. But there was one thing that surprised me; my father wasn't yelling. He was just standing there arms crossed gazing at me with an odd expression. I waited for an action, a word, or anything that would make the air less dense. But nothing happened.

"Y/n."

I looked at him, expecting to get hit or something. But father still had on that expression which started to confuse me. Was he mad?

"What happened?" He signed. I looked at him again, but in surprise. He was actually signing to me. When was the last time he communicated to me like this? Father would never sign to me and would always make me write things down. Why is he signing now after all these years?

"The bullies took my hearing aids and broke them," I sign back. I watched my father's reaction closely to predict what would happen. To my surprise, he stood completely still, no movement whatsoever.

The tension was killing me, can't he just say something? Or just yell at me already? Father has never acted like this; it was honestly scaring me. He slowly leaned in closer to me. "Say it again. Out loud," he says. I lip-read his words and complied in confusion.

"I got bullied. They broke my hearing aid..." I mumbled, trying my best to pronounce the words correctly. Father's expression definitely looked mad now. "You... what?"

"It wasn't me, father! I didn't break them, it was those bullies!" I signed desperately, trying to not give him the wrong idea.

"No, you got bullied?" He asks uncertainly. I didn't know what was going to happen next. Heck, I don't even know if he was mad or not. And it was that unreadable expression that kept me from answering the question for a few seconds.

"Y-yes, father," I say.

Word count: 1008