My Own Four Cents [2016]

Chapter 2: Alone

Pretty intense, huh? Like it so far? If you do, keep reading. If you don't, well, it gets more interesting. Btw, I do speak a little bit of sign language, I am hearing and I don't know anyone who is deaf or speaks only sign language, so give me suggestions if it is not accurate. I am open to suggestions! If I get signs wrong and you know the right way, tell me! Thanks! This chapter is dedicated to Sandey12 for your awesome comments! Thank you for helping me with my sign language!

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Six years have passed since I had a family. A real family, anyone who loved me. Now I am waking up in the Joyous Children Center for Orphan Children, the orphanage that they decided to send me to after my parents died. Sure, the people at Joyous Children are nice, but they aren't my family. My family is gone for good. The fruit is some sort of mushy, squishy cooked stuff that I don't make, I just make the toast. (To be honest, I really don't want to know how to make that disgusting mush they call fruit.)

I think about the day my life took a turn for the worse as I dump twenty pieces of toast into the toaster and turn them on. The caretakers mill around in the breakfast hall as I make the toast. I'm not sure who's making the fruit. It should be against the law to feed a bunch of orphans like me (it still hurts to call myself that) that kind of food.

The other girl who is helping me make the toast comes over. Her name is Tanisha Baker, and she is the nicest person to exist since Veronica. Her parents died in a car crash when she was six, but she has an incredible memory and that makes it worse because she dwells on the past too much. She remembers every detail about her parents, and that makes her awfully depressed. Poor Tanisha. But she is so nice. She learned sign language when she met me, and she communicates with me without using sign language better than anyone else. She's like my translator. She can help me understand what everyone else is saying and translate my sign language to the other kids. Today she is wearing a blue shirt and jeans, and she smiles and says in sign language, Nice to see you! I smile back-- not being able to hear doesn't affect the ability to read faces. I knew what she was thinking all the time. She always has this depressed look on her face, but she's happy sometimes. Even when she smiles, there's a sad look in her eyes. She has such a good memory, she remembers the people she loved really well-- too well.

Tanisha says something to the caretaker, and then we have a super-fast sign language conversation.

Hi, Maria!

Nice to see you, Tanisha. Are you feeling okay?

Kind of. You?

I want to be someone else.

Me too. Someone who isn't an orphan. Someone who has a family.

Someone who can hear.

The caretaker says something to Tanisha, who signs it as the woman speaks. Tanisha signs to me, 'What on earth are you girls saying?'

I don't know. Why does the deaf girl have to talk in sign language all the time?

Ha ha. Tanisha's face shows laughter. She's happier than I've seen her in a long time. I think I make her happy. It feels good to make her happy. Even the sad look has left her eyes, replaced by a happy sparkle. But when the caretaker tells her something, the sad look comes back and she signs to me, Time for breakfast!

I grimace.

I know.

I finger the locket around my neck. It has a picture of six-year-old me on ten-year-old Veronica's back inside it. We're both grinning like maniacs. I wear it even though it reminds me of her, because I don't have the heart to throw it away. Veronica had one that was identical.