I Don't Know If You Can Hear Me...

Chapter One: My World, Silent
Dedication: To those who cannot speak out
BTW: This story is named after the first line of Esmerelda's song from "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" I love that song!
"Hello, Heather!" called a familiar voice from that weird pink house on the corner. I stopped, the dog pulling my arm from my socket and waved to the crazy old lady who lived there, who thought she was Marilyn Monroe. I smiled as I watched her sashaying across the porch, singing some old song. The rain clouds gathered, hearlding a storm, maybe a drizzle or two before the day was over.

Max, my beagle, finally managed to pull me away from the spectacle and away to a set of ferns that he immediately revived himself on. I rolled my eyes, and groaned. The wind began to blow, bringing with it the smell of wet earth and smog. I pulled the leash and dragged Max back to my middle-class suburban house that was totally tacky. White and tan. Yuck.

I opened the front door, and promptly tripped over two sets of muddy boots, and a torn dog toy. Max instantly pounced on it and continued to rip it to shreds. I heard the rain begin outside, and instantly thanked my lucky stars that I was still not out there. I struggled to get the leash off, but he was having way too much fun with that darn toy to sit still, or even notice me. I gave up, and was about to let the dumb dog run all over the house with that leash still on him when Mom poked her head around the kitchen door, and gave me that look. I grinned cheekily, then grabbed Max's treat box. He stopped gnawing on that toy instantly. I pulled out a bone, and he sat.

I patted him on the head, and undid the leash. I then held the treat right above his head. He sat, still. My right hand made the motion for "Up." Max went up on his hind legs and with a little wobbling, stayed. I then slowly walked backwards, and he followed me, hopping forward. I smiled and tossed him the treat. He caught it then ran off to chew it in the living room.

"You taught that dog well." said Mom, smiling at me. I grinned and gave her thumbs up. Just then, the twin terrors of the city tore through the kitchen grabbed a plate of cookies and vanished into the living room.

"Those are for the Gardening Club meeting tonight!" Mom bellowed. "If either of you have eaten one, just one-!" she vanished into the living room as well. I shrugged, and grabbed a Diet Coke out of the fridge. I went upstairs and into my room, to do some homework. I pulled up some of my shades, to see the rain that was starting and shed my jacket on my chair. I switched on my Lava lamps, and pulled out my Geometry from under my bed, where I stashed it after classes.

Oh, I'm home-schooled. Mom thought that it would be an interesting challenge for her and us. That's my mom, the over-achiever of the family. As I started to work on finding the area of regular polygons, my computer beeped. I ignored it. Just my email. It beeped again. Seriously, that was going to get annoying. I got up and got on. I opened my latest, a folder from my magazine, Young Actors of America. I got it because it was funny. My eyes scanned the wording, and then I went back and read it more carefully.

"Dear Heather Johnston,
You have won our Grand Prize from out April issue! A week-long trip to New Zealand (Technical junk)

I stared at the email, then hit the button my mother installed that was a recording of one of my brothers screaming, followed by, "Mom, this is Heather's automated scream"

Yeah, if you haven't guessed already I'm mute. Can't talk, can't hum, can't sing, and can't scream. Sign language is very useful for cursing out little brothers. But other than that, kind of annoying.

Mother's footsteps pounded on the stairs, and she entered my room like a tornado. I don't press that button much, owing to the fact that my brother sounds like someone getting stabbed with a knife, then having their intestines ripped out. Her panic stricken eyes chilled when she saw me on the computer.

"Heather, I thought that you were-" I held up a hand and silenced her. I pointed to my computer and clapped my hands in excitement. Mother walked over, read the email, and did what I couldn't. Screamed. Then she hugged me, and then she screamed again. Michel, the younger twin, santered into my room, and read the email. He nodded then said, "Cool," Mother started freaking out about all the packing that we would have to do, and all that. She went out of the room, muttering about plane tickets and schedules.

I guess we were on our way to New Zealand.

Yeah, like I said before, I'm mute. And that's one reason why I'm homeschooled. Did the whole public school thing, but I didn't really fit in. Especially in the Drama department. I'm better off where I can be understood. Mom likes to do projects; I like to do them too. She and I have had many adventures in the past, visiting museums, art galleries, plays and musicals. Of course, I have to do a report on each, but it's a lot of fun. Who knows what Mom'll do with this New Zealand trip?

BTW, I've got 4 brothers. Mom and Dad really wanted kids. John, the oldest, is married, with a kid of his own. I'm an aunt. The little guy's name is Jett, and he's pretty cute, only a year old, but so adorable! Roger, the second eldest, is in his first year of college. He met this girl and he's all goo-goo eyed. He's also your classic jock. Football player, quarterback, naturally. Grades, average. Then there are the twins. Honestly, someone had a sense of humor when they stuck them in our family. Timothy and Archie. The twins are younger than me, thank God, by four and a half years. But then again, they are at their worst now. They are the trouble-makers of the family. Mom's got her grey hair because of them, believe me!

Me, I'm your average teenager. Shoulder-length hair, grey eyes, painted nails, jeans. Sure, there's the mute thing, but I can read lips pretty good. Either that or signing. That's fun. I try to see how fast I can go without my brothers knowing what I'm saying. It's hilarious, especially when they get the first part, but not the second part, and they have such a look of confusion on them. Roger is the funniest with that look. Can't fool Mom, though. I swear, she has some sort of Mom detector, to see what I'm thinking. It's scary sometimes. I like to sing, well, mouth along with the singers, dance, draw, shop and get fancy for parties and stuff. I like to put make-up on, see who I can become. Depends on my mood, but sometimes I like to read. Also depends on the book.

Dad's an accountant. Boring job. He's not though. Surprise tickets to the circus, trips to Pike's Place, free ice-cream, he's an awesome dad. He'll even go shopping with me and Mom and be patient. He used to be a football player for the Miami Dolphins, but he injured his back, so he took up accounting, and got pretty good at it.

So, here we are, at a suburban house near Seattle, Washington, and I kinda like it. The fog you get used to, as well as the rain, and the occasional earth-quake. Everything stays the same.I guess you could say that I'm waiting for my life to start. Waiting for something to come along and interrupt my life. Something almost earth shattering. Maybe, someone to understand me. Someone my age, someone who will care. Someone who will be my friend. But I guess that's what dreams are for. And if I can't dream, there's no life in the world. Maybe, just maybe, this trip to New Zealand will shake things up enough.