《Ratbags and Scallywags [bxb]》Chapter 6
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It finally happened. I'd been outed in front of the entire school for being disabled. I'd already scrolled through the forums, watching people attack both me and Charlie for different reasons in real time. I didn't even know what to feel anymore. Dazed, maybe. Numb.
Laying on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling. Mum and Dad weren't here so they didn't know I came home early. Even so, I knew they'd understand. Or even if they didn't, I couldn't bring myself to care. There was a speck on the ceiling, so I lifted hand and tried hovering my fingertip over it. A ritual I partook in most nights.
It took a few tries, finger swinging up-ways and sideways, but I managed to hover over it a couple of times. I'd alternate by closing my left eye; the prosthetic one, seeing if my concentration level improved. It didn't. Then I'd play a sick joke on myself, closing my right eye, instead. And I'd see nothing.
I kept this up for a while until I heard keys rattling outside the front door. It opened, then I listened to what sounded like Mum's footsteps coming in. I dropped my hand and listened as she ascended the stairs. Since my door was open, she saw me as soon as she came up. Her fashionably threaded brows rose up, visibly surprised to find me here this early.
"Aubrey?" she said, unconsciously signing as spoke. "What're you doing here already?"
How could I explain it? That after four years of trying so hard to keep this part of myself hidden, that I'd finally been discovered. I was outed. A fraud who pretended to be like them, when in reality, I'd never be the same as them again.
"Mum," I said, feeling the words choke up in my throat. "Everyone found out."
Her hand shot in front of her mouth, reflexively gasping. Mum played a massive role in my secret by ensuring every teacher who knew about me kept quiet. No pity, no whispers, no rumours, no inconveniencing classes by teaching them how not to treat me differently. No annoying people trying to get closer to me with the sole intention of feeling better about themselves or by looking good to others. I didn't want any of that. I didn't want to be that guy.
And now...
"Mum, I don't want to go back." My eyes started tearing up, but I bit my tongue, fighting the urge. She came and sat beside me, pulling me against her shoulder while she rubbed my back.
"Honey, what happened?" she asked, voice filled with more pain than I had the strength to listen to.
"Charlie bloody Rascal," I said, hating that I sounded more choked up than I intended. "The idiot just can't help himself."
"It wasn't on purpose?" she asked. "It wasn't maliciously done, then?"
We'd gotten along for all of thirty-five seconds before he ruined everything. Of course, he really didn't know about my aid. I could accept that it was a mistake, an accident, and that it wasn't done in maliciousness. I could see it on his face that he was just as shocked as I was.
To answer her question, I shook my head.
"Do you blame him?" Mum asked, stroking her fingers through my hair. Remembering his reaction that must've mirrored mine, I doubted he was any happier than me right now. Even though he did something stupid, he could never've known this'd happen.
Did I blame him? Did he deserve to be blamed? I didn't think so, so I shook my head. Of course, if he wasn't such an idiot to begin with... I didn't really know. I was conflicted, feeling my lips tremble. Tears starting to spill, I changed my answer to a shrug.
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"Oh, honey," Mum cooed with sympathy just as her phone started going off. The sound of ringing came from her bag she left outside my door, so she stood up and made her way out. She picked it up and looked at the screen.
"I've got to take this," she said, looking back at me apologetically. "How about playing games or watching some TV? Try to get your mind off it for a bit. Forecast says there's a storm coming so I've got to bring the washing in, too."
I started climbing off from the bed. "I'll come help-"
"Sweetie, no. You just relax, okay? You've had a big day so take a break. I've got it." She answered her phone and brought it to her ear as she walked away. "Yes, hello-"
I threw myself backward on my bed when she was out of earshot.
Games? TV? Would any of it make me feel better? All I could focus on was this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Its churning. The bile that felt like rising in my throat. My heart thundering so loudly it could be mistaken for the storm that hadn't even come yet. And as for that storm, I could hardly wait.
Storms in this region were always thunderous. Looming, low frequencies that hurt whether my aid was in or not. Most nights I continued having nightmares, but they were always amplified by storms.
Because those nights, I dreamed with sound.
With a sigh, I turned to face the wall. The pressure against my ear made my aid wriggle. Just as I was about to pull it out, Mum's footsteps came heading back this way. I turned to the door as she popped into view, still holding the phone to her ear. "Right, right, yes. One moment, let me check-"
She appeared to check my aid was still in before speaking. "Aubrey, it's Vivienne Rascal, Charlie's Mum."
I blinked.
"She wants to bring Charlie around to apologize in person," she said, putting her hand over the phone to muffle her voice. "It doesn't have to be today, Aubrey, just whenever you're ready."
Bloody hell. I barely had time to process anything and yet here he was already wanting to come and sucker up to me. I shook my head, but not wanting Mrs. Rascal to hear me from the other end of the line, I replied in sign language.
"I want to be alone," I answered. "Maybe another time."
Mum nodded and spoke back into the phone. "Ah, yes. He's occupied at this minute, but he says it's fine to another time."
I signed thanks before she walked off and rolled back over in my bed. I felt like I was in a slump, not knowing what to do with myself. Or how to deal with this. Would it have been better to just let him come over and face things head on? It was hard to tell. It was like I couldn't think straight. My mind was haywire. Was I angry? Sad? Scared? Humiliated? Pissed? Maybe all of these things.
Maybe none.
God, he was loud enough at school as it was, and now my entire mind was a raging whirlwind because of him. I could escape sounds by pulling out my aid, but I couldn't escape these thoughts. What would it take for things to be quiet? Deciding sleep would be the best course of action for now, I switched off my hearing aid and placed it on the bedside table. Succumbing to the open arms of silence, I rolled over and drifted into a soundless sleep.
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A hand on my shoulder startled me awake, the same way I woke by anything that wasn't my mattress alarm. Looking up, I found Mum standing there. She looked wrecked. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her face looked pale. She'd been crying. Was it because of me? She signed, dinner before handing my hearing aid and leaving the room. I switched it on and placed it inside my ear, then headed out to join them.
My sister was already at the table, kicking her legs around while she chatted animatedly with Mum. "Jade's Mum's gonna be there so there won't be any alcohol, I promise. You can call and ask! Please, Mum, can I go? It's just a movie night."
"Okay, okay, yes, Tessa," Mum said with evident frustration in her voice, pinching the space between her brows. "I'll call her mum and give you an answer then, alright?"
Dad mostly looked his usual merry self, if not the slightest bit sombre, handing our plates out across the table. Tess reached over as soon as her plate landed in front of her, scooping up chunks of meat. For once, I didn't feel like battling with Tess over who got first dibs. Surprisingly though, she shut up as soon as soon as I sat down beside her. Dad handed over a tortilla wrap and set it down on my plate, then scraped a heap of salad on it.
Considering he'd typically make me get my own, it was evident that Mum had already relayed the news to him. It made me uncomfortable. They'd already been through so much after my accident; and now there was this. Nobody said a word, making me want to bury myself alive. Minus the clanking of cutlery and plates, we sat quietly at the table. It brought the sound of rain to my attention, making me look out the window.
Storm clouds loomed across the darkening sky, and I watched rain trickle down the windows. The sound was so soft that I barely noticed it until now. Against the window's backdrop, I could see clothes fluttering on the line. It seemed like Mum didn't get the chance to bring them inside. She must have noticed my staring, because she turned her body so she could see outside, too.
"I was busy preparing dinner and talking on the phone," she said, as if she owed me an explanation. "Don't worry about it."
Mum hated dealing with phone calls. She avoided them like the plague. If it wasn't a direct family member, or if it wasn't strictly necessary, then she would avoid it at all costs. But to have spent the afternoon between phone calls and preparing dinner... it was no wonder she looked this way.
As the guilt ate away at me, a compulsion emerged to go out and bring them inside. Considering all the stress she put herself through because of me, it was the least I could do. While Tessa chatted away one-sidedly to Mum, Dad was busy scooping out a massive heap of barbecued beef strips onto my wrap.
"Thanks Dad," I said, scooting out of my chair. "I'll be right back."
"Alright," he said. "Don't be too long or your dinner will get cold."
I nodded as I walked off.
Too distracted by Tessa's incessant chatter, Mum barely seemed to notice me leaving. I retrieved a thick sweater from my bedroom first, then, as quietly as possible, I grabbed the washing basket from the laundry and took it to the back entrance. The sound of rain intensified as I opened the door, immediately being met with a cold and wet chill. My hair whipped across my face as I made my way across the lawn. The rain started pouring just as I reached the line.
The storm's intensity continued picking up, so I pulled out my hearing aid and pocketed it for safety. Thankfully, my sweater kept me from getting immediately drenched as I fumbled for the washing. Between their constant thrashing in the wind, hair whipping across my face, the lack of light source, and a single functioning eye; I struggled. I really struggled.
My head felt hot from the energy I exerted while cold chills ran down my body. All I wanted to do was go inside and curl up in bed. If I felt like this after two minutes of trying and failing to bring in the washing, then I couldn't imagine the stress I'd put Mum through while I slept all afternoon. She took everything on by herself because of how often dad worked.
Caring for an energetic thirteen-year-old girl and a disabled sixteen-year-old boy. Wasn't this the least I could do? If I didn't want to be treated differently, then I had to be just like everybody else. And yet because of my poor vision, because of my skewed depth perception, because of my hearing loss; I wasn't like everybody else. I just wanted to be. I pretended to be.
I kept reaching for the pegs, tossing each clothing into the basket. Oftentimes I missed, ending up on the wet grass, instead. The frequency in which that happened sent me over the edge. Lightning struck across the sky; lighting everything in its path. It was the first I'd seen tonight.
I struggled for two more pieces of clothes when I felt the shockwaves of thunder reverberate through my body. My ears pounded, crushing my skull. I clamped my hands over my ears and knelt down.
I think I made sounds, but I couldn't hear them. Another lightning strike; followed by another clap of thunder. I heard the clap, but everything else was quiet and muffled. I couldn't hear the sounds that assaulted me, making me cave beneath its pressure, but I could feel it as vividly as somebody slapping my ears.
And then a dam within me burst.
"Uuaaarghhhh!"
Hands wrapped around me, startling me into a scream; one I heard loud and clear. My body wracked with sobs as somebody put a towel around me and pulled me to my feet. It was my dad.
Mum was at the door making gestures, and her higher pitched voice was deeply muffled from the rain. I couldn't hear her speak; I didn't know what she was saying. Dad guided me across the lawn until I was safely inside. Tears pooled down my face, falling along with the droplets of rain. My right eye stung, involuntarily clenching shut.
I couldn't see.
I couldn't hear.
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I was mortified with the way I behaved and what little more I achieved than making a fool of myself. My parents ran me a bath, brewed me some herbal tea, then sent me to sleep early. I felt listless; numb. Even though I couldn't hear the deep rumbling of thunder, I felt its vibrations across my bed. The sensation was so subtle that I might not have noticed, if not for the skull-crushing intensity in my brain.
My sleeping pills kicking in. They were my only means to survive our regular thunderstorms, but they came with a catch: I couldn't wake from a nightmare.
Every stormy night, I'd relive that moment with Grandad. Inside of those dreams, I could always hear sound. The crashing of thunder, the sound of cars rolling, colliding, my Granddad's voice as he stuck his arm out to protect me.
Then the sound of silence that followed, which was the loudest sound of all.
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