noises - [jay]

dakoda zanelli district twelve
s i n k i n g i n s i l e n c e

Although I was a little lonely, and more than a little cold, it was quite nice out here in the snow. Minus the wind, of course. It's times like this when I wished I had a watch - Mother told me to wait a little longer before I set off to meet the rest of our family, but I just couldn't resist. Home was getting boring, anyway - you can only coop yourself up long enough before you're itching to go out again, no matter how cold it is. Footprints are always fun to follow home again, when I was smaller, McKenzy would run out ahead and make trails for me to follow in case I got lost. Luckily I didn't need to use them, but it's the thought that counts, right?

In my transfix on the snow in front of me, combined with my zoned-out daze, I didn't see the boy that was walking towards me approach. So when he seemingly materialised in front of me, I'd be lying if I said he didn't catch me off guard. I barely heard his greeting - if it was a greeting at all, just a murmur in my ear.

Heart skipping a beat, I jump - a little too much, and the next thing I know I'm tumbling down off my perch on the gate and land in a heap of snow. I don't do surprises - especially from strangers. My mind whirls to old confrontations from strangers, and I freeze into terror. Terrified, I wait until I've caught my breath again and stumble to a sitting position, clutching my ears, eyes squeezed shut, leaning against the fence and not saying a word. Because that's what I always do when I'm scared. Stay quiet. Because I am too loud when I'm scared.

dakoda zanelli district twelve
s i n k i n g i n s i l e n c e

When she was just a girl,
she expected the world.
But it flew away from her reach,
and the bullets catch in her teeth.

I thought that the boy was trying to talk to me, so I removed my hands from my ears, letting muffles of voice return to my hearing. Slowly, as I built up the courage bit by bit, I eventually opened my eyes. Seeing the boy grab things from his backpack through wide eyes, I stayed huddled in my frightened position, but continued to watch curiously. He drew out a pencil, and paper, and began to furiously scribble words down, thrusting the paper towards me to read.

Adjusting my eyes, I leant forward and began to read silently. "Hi, my name is Geatano. I am sorry for scaring you. Your Dakoda right?" A smile crept upon my face once I'd finished reading, nodding slightly. I'd often write down my words instead of struggling to speak, finding it surprising that he too had written on paper. I wondered if perhaps he too had any siblings that were deaf - but I'd never come across anyone similar to me in my life, so threw away the thought as quick as it had sparked.

"Yes," I whispered softly, feeling far more comfortable, but not wanting to accidentally yell and scare off the boy. I'd never had friends, other than my siblings, but they didn't really count."Hello."

dakoda zanelli district twelve
s i n k i n g i n s i l e n c e

Just a whisper, whisper, whisper.
Night turns to day and I still have these questions.
You just won't break, should I go forwards or backwards,
Night turns to day and I've still got no answers.

Curiously, I watched as the boy read my handwriting and scribbled yet another question down. I felt like I could trust this boy, at least, he seemed harmless. Nice, even, as he hadn't wanted to hurt or tease me after all. Longing for a friend, I stayed where I was and crossed my legs under my snowy seat, waiting for another reply. Taking the paper in my hands, I drank in the next question. Dakoda, I have always wanted to know, what's it like being deaf?

I paused once I'd finished reading, the question lingering in mid-air as I held it. I tried picking up the pencil and writing an answer, but my pencil only hovered above it's destination, frozen. How do you explain something to someone that you don't even understand yourself? My mind wandered back to the scribbled drawings I'd make when I was younger - loopy lines for ringing, crosses for vibrations, squiggles for murmurs of voice. Being deaf is all I've ever known, so I have nothing to compare it to. How do I describe something that I cannot see a difference to explain? I didn't think that a bunch of scribbles would be a sufficient enough answer, honestly, so instead I feverishly wrote down another question in it's place. What's it like being able to hear?