Silent Serenade

Chapter one

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Maple's POV

Some people might see deafness as a limitation, as something to be pitied or overcome. But for me, it's always been a source of strength and beauty.

When you're deaf, you see the world in a different way. You notice the way the wind rustles through the leaves, the way the sunlight dances across the floor sending off a kaleidoscope of colours. You feel the vibrations of the world around you, and you learn to appreciate the subtle rhythms of life.

Sometimes people ask me if I feel like I'm missing out on something by not being able to hear. But the truth is, I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything at all. I feel like I'm experiencing the world in a way that's unique and special, a way that only a few people get to experience.

Of course, there are challenges that come with being deaf. There are times when I struggle to communicate with people, or when I feel isolated and alone. But even in those moments, I know that I have a strength and a resilience that comes from being deaf.

Being deaf has taught me to be patient, to be kind, and to be empathetic. It's taught me to appreciate the small moments of beauty that can so easily pass us by. And most of all, it's taught me that there's more than one way to experience the world, and that each of us has a unique perspective that's worth celebrating.

I remember the day that my life changed forever. It was a warm summer afternoon. The soft sound of leaves rustling on trees, cars passing us by. The booming sound of the bass from the radio filling the car. My dad and I were driving to go and see one of my favourite bands. We were laughing and singing along to the radio, and I was feeling so happy and carefree.

And then it happened. Another car swerved into our lane, and there was a loud crash. The sound drowning out the bass from the radio, everything going dark. Quiet. When I woke up, I was in the hospital, my body battered and bruised. But even worse than the physical pain was the news that came next: I was deaf. And not only that but my father... he didn't make it. 

How could I go on without my father's advice? His kind words, his laughs. 

At first, I couldn't believe it. How could I cope with not being able to hear? To not hear everything I loved in the world. I had always loved music, loved the way it made me feel. And now that was gone. It was like a part of me had been ripped away, and I didn't know how to go on.

Maybe it was my fault. My fault that we were in the car that day but...

But over time, I started to learn how to live with my deafness. I learned sign language, and I started to see the world in a whole new way. I learned to appreciate the beauty in silence, the way it can make you feel so present and aware.

Of course, there were still times when I felt isolated and alone. I missed the sound of my dad's voice, missed the way he would sing to me and make me laugh. But even in those moments of sadness, I knew that I had to keep going, to keep finding the beauty in my life.

Now, years later, I've learned to embrace my deafness as a part of who I am. It's not always easy, but it's made me stronger and more resilient. And even though I can't hear the sound of music anymore, I still feel it in my heart, in the way it connects me to the world and to the people I love.

I guess that's what makes me... me. 

A gentle touch fell upon my shoulder so not to startle me. It's hard not to be jumpy when you can't exactly hear people's footsteps coming up behind you.

"Your friends are here." My mother signs giving me a warm smile. Her warm ginger hair cascading over her shoulder in soft waves. People always say I look look like a carbon copy of my mother, apart from my vivid emerald green eyes. I got those from my father.