Watching Lies Unfold

To tell the truth, I’m not the happiest of people, no friends, no family, but I survived the sixteen years in an orphanage. My parents abandoned me when I was three weeks of age, I don’t remember them, how could I? I was only an infant, no slightest idea that my life would be drained, so only the things that crumbled in front of my eyes, I remembered. I watch everything, which is what I did best, don’t talk, and don’t listen. I watch the sun rise in the soft light every morning, and set that night behind the tall snowy mountains. I watch the ants pick off my lunch, and I watched my life drip away like the blood down my wrist.

My life isn’t all bad, it is complicated, everyone left me, rejected me, the only boy I will ever love was brutally murdered, but I’m still alive, I haven’t successfully killed myself, though the many times I have tried.  Everybody hates me; they think I am weird, that my brain doesn’t function probably, just because I don’t listen to their bull shit. There are two sections to my orphanage, the Education Centre and the Home Rooms. The Home Rooms are obviously the living area, this includes, One room for all the girls (10 or so more tantrum prone toddlers, 6 or 7 completely annoying preteens and 3 hormonal teenagers, in one room) and one for the boys, one girl bathroom (hectic!) and one boy bathroom, a living room and we shower all together outside (I know right?) though the boys go on one side of the nearly completely see through curtain. The other section is the Education Centre, which is a sort of school, 12 rooms, one for each year. On my fifth birthday I got introduced to the Grade 1 room. There I sat everyday of that year, on a pink flowery shoe box, that didn’t contain any shoes, next to my olive green tattered satchel. I never answered a question that wasn’t on paper; I never listened to the teacher, though I never got in trouble because I never said anything, Except for once…

I remember every second of it like it was yesterday because it was one of the proudest moments of my life; I wish I could do it all over again. It was when I was six years old, I had gotten used to the idea of school, and I sat in the corner drawing diagrams, voodoo dolls, and plans on how to set the orphanage on fire, things like that. Our teacher for that year was named Stephanie Wilkins, I knew the details for every teacher, birthday, marriages, criminal records, I had broken into the storage room once to be alone and I found all the files for the teachers and orphans, I read every single one. Stephanie Wilkins has been married four times, all turned out to be either gay, jail bird or a woman, I understand why they all left her, she is literally a cow a look alike. She has a clean slate when it comes to criminal records, but I have a feeling she has came close to breaking the law, but just scared the police officers away. Ms Wilkins had grouped us all up into a quirky, square like circle. She says to us all “Okay classh today we are going to be disshcusshing our favourite bookssh” I saw the spit fly everywhere as her lisp chocked her words, “Shharah, You can go firssht” she said spraying us. Sarah Maybell was the prettiest girl in the class, and the biggest teacher’s pet, all the girls wanted to be her friend, all the guys wanted her to pay attention to them, but all she wanted was a family, she wanted a family so bad. Once I saw her crying on her 13th birthday, I walked into her room, didn’t say anything, not even a comforting ‘what’s the matter’ I just stood at the door eyes wide and watery, she got the hint that I was wondering what all the blubbering was about. “Angie, every birthday, when I blow out the one candle, I always wish for a family,” she says in between the weeping, I nod to show her that I was still paying attention

“ but every family that has come in wanting a child, no one has wanted me or you, do you ever get the feeling that we are just not good enough for a family?” she said, her tears have stopped but I can tell by the water welling up that when I answered she would cry again.

Sarah had told Ms Wilkins her favourite book and the words where spinning around in my head, until the poisonous eyes were glaring at me, including Daniel Tompkins, the boy sitting next to me. Daniel was the orphanage bully, the class clown also, he made fun of everyone’s misfortunes, and I was his main target. Daniel was adopted three years ago. I know what you’re thinking? Why would Daniel be adopted and not Sarah? Two gay guys came into the orphanage one year, every week they would come in, each week they would go into a different year, they eventually came into ours and met Daniel. The men were two bikies, the scary type, big, hairy, but gay. They were looking for a boy, big build, very bad ass. That’s when Daniel got adopted.

Ms Wilkins was saying something encouraging trying getting me to spit out a book, but I wasn’t listening, nor was I talking. I scanned the circle watching all the faces change, I still didn’t say anything. Everyone started whispering and pointing, I wasn’t reacting until Daniel exclaimed to everyone “Angie! You are such a retard!” he pointed at me, laughed in my face; the image was replaying over and over in my mind, travelling from slow motion to fast. I stared at him, then scanned the circle watch as my eyes met theirs they stopped laughing. Usually I would be amused by the power, but today my eyes where seeing red, I have been called lots of words but I will never stand for ‘retard’. Daniel was implying that I was mentally disabled, I may be strange, but I am not metal. I felt Daniel getting scared, but he didn’t show it, until I punched him in the face of course. I didn’t stop there either, I punched him, and I pulled hair, he was hitting back as well, it didn’t hurt, his pathetic throws and kicks didn’t stop me. I kicked him trying to get him to the ground, and then I figured out the main weakness for a boy… the downstairs compartment. And I got right in there, I didn’t just kick him I grabbed them, I squished and twisted at a sharp angle, he stopped hitting, eyes almost popping out of his head in pain. Daniel fell to the ground and I have learnt many things by watching Daniel tease me, but the main one was no mercy. Daniel was rolling on the ground and I was kicking his face, teeth being knocked out, nose gushing, I wasn’t going to stop, until a sharp pain overtook my body, Ms Wilkins had gotten her one meter ruler and smacked the coxicbone with all her might and the pain took me to the ground. I was crying, Daniel was crying, Ms Wilkins was going ballistic, screaming one hundred words per hours, spit flying everywhere, but I couldn’t hear her, I couldn’t hear anything, cant and never had been able to hear, but you’re the only one who knows.          

That’s right, I am deaf, but I haven’t told anyone except for you, well that’s not true, You, Tony, Lara and Sarah know, but you are the first one that knows the story, well you don’t know it yet, but you are about to find out.

When I was two or so years old I remember seeing Tara making the ridiculous baby noises adults do to try and communicate with babies. Tara McGuire is the nursery guider, she and two other women look after the babies, she was kind of a mother figure, but I treat her as I treat everyone else, I don’t talk to her. I grew up knowing that I couldn’t hear, but I didn’t want any attention so I kept to myself. When I was five, and I went into the Grade 1 room, I payed a lot of attention on the way the teacher pronounced the words with her lips, eventually I figured out a few sentences and was able to read little sentences. Now at the age of sixteen I can read anyone’s lips, whatever they are saying. Four people know my secret, One is dead, so my secret is safe with him, One is the most trustworthy girl, but I haven’t seen her in years, One I see her everyday and I threaten her that if she tells and You, Well I trust you.