69 19 7

Sitting on my bed, I play around with my new hearing aids.  If I flip the switches all the way to 4, I'm able to hear even the most distance of sounds.  Like now, for instance, I can hear the television downstairs playing a soccer game.  If I flip it to 3, I can hear the television a little quieter.  At 2, I can't anymore.  I assume this is the average person's listening distance.  At 1, everything is silent.  Not muffled, but actually silent.  I guess that'll be useful while I'm reading.  For now, I switch it back to 2, leaving it there.  Just in time, I hear a knocking on my bedroom door.

"Yes?"  I say.

My dad comes in.  "Hey, how are they?"

"Great."  I say aloud.

"It's nice to hear your voice again." he sits next to me on my bed.

"You too."  I smile.

"Your mom told me about your dream."

I shrug.  "Nothing to it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I was just surprised, you know.  It felt... somewhat satisfying.  The waves moving in such synchronization, crashing with an audible 'splash'.  It probably sounded the same as if my aids were in, but it felt weird hearing without them."

My dad nods in agreement.  "I came to give you this."  He hands me a small, white console, with two usb's.  "It's a charging station for them.  This way, you won't have to worry about replacing the battery.  They're also compatible with your phone."

"Thanks, dad."

He hugs and kisses me, then leaves, closing my door on the way out.

I pick up my phone from my desk, going into the settings and connecting my noise enhancers.  After that, I head over to the music app and put on Trees by Twenty-one pilots. It's been a while since I've heard that song, or any song as a matter of fact.  When I was in elementary school, the kids in my class would be astonished to hear that the deaf kid could listen to music.

Let me just say for the record, I'm not completely deaf, but my hearing is impaired significantly enough to be classified as such since birth.  Another thing that gets on my nerves is when people believe deaf people can't speak.  I can speak fine without my aids, but because everything sounds like I have cotton in my ears without them, I choose not to speak.  But, something that bugs me, personally, is when people learn I'm deaf, they'll scream at the top of their lungs to communicate with me.  The joke is, almost all the time this happens, I'm wearing my hearing aids.  It's times like those that made me wish I could hear on my own, just so I wouldn't have to suffer through that.

Murderer next doorWhere stories live. Discover now