July - August, 2004

The flight home was something Bay never wanted to do again. She hated flying in the first place, but actually hearing the engines start freaked her out. She felt as if it was normal, not being able to hear. She glanced at her mother, her heart picking up speed as the plane launched into the sky. She gripped her mother's hands until she felt as if she held any tighter, both their hands would fall off.

When the sign came on that said the seatbelts could come off, hers was the first gone before she laid her head on her mother's shoulder. The armrest had been moved, so it wasn't all that uncomfortable. Her mother automatically curled her arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Feeling slightly more relaxed, Bay fell into an uneasy sleep— 'the first of many,' she thought.

Kathryn watched her daughter fall asleep, feeling tormented. Why did her baby have to lose her hearing? If Toby had come, would he have also lost his hearing as well? She knew it was selfish, but she was glad that he had decided to join him, she didn't think she could deal with having both her children have their hearing stolen from them.

The mother struggled to keep the tears out of her eyes. She'd been strong the past week and a half, because her daughter needed someone she could get strength from, even if Bay didn't want to admit it. Pushing the tears away, she focused on the positive. At least Bay would have more focus on her art than she had before, that was good, right?

XxXxXxX

Bay jerked as she awoke, half hoping that it was just a prolonged nightmare due to the flu and she wasn't really deaf. Her hope was soon crushed when she woke up and realised she still couldn't hear. The only reason she'd woke up was due to her mother shaking her.

Her mother handed her, her bags and the duo made their way off the plane. As soon as they passed security and made their way towards the baggage claim, she was attacked with a hug from her older brother. The worry in his eyes was unmistakable; even though she knew he cared, after what he said to make her go without him, she couldn't help but feel as if she didn't belong to begin with, now she really didn't belong.

Her father took her and Kathryn's bags before grabbing the other luggage that was also their own. The ride home was literally silent—no one said a word. At least that's what Bay figured, if the tense air was anything to go by. 'why is it so tense? Nothing really changed, except we don't have a way to communicate anymore...'

Once they got home, Bay realised she still didn't want to paint, though she didn't know why. Wouldn't she feel better, if she took up a paintbrush and painted how she really felt? The longing expression must have been taken differently than how she really felt, for both her parents shook their head and ushered her inside. Toby seemed to understand how she really felt, though she didn't think he told anyone.

She hadn't come to terms with being deaf, not yet anyways. Since it had only been a week or so, no one could really blame her.

Her brother helped guide her through conversation, when other people forgot she was impaired. It was a struggle, and even she had lost the drive she'd had just days before to learn ASL.

If she got a Cochlear Implant, would things go back to the way they were or would she still be an outcast in whatever group of friends she had?

XxXxXxX

As June turned into July, Kathryn worried even more about her youngest. It was clear that she hadn't even touched her paint studio since they'd been home. Even clearer was the painfully clear fact that her daughter was slipping away and she couldn't do anything to reach out.

She wanted to make her daughter go to the doctor, to get tested for depression. She didn't want to put anymore pressure on Bay, though. What if she pushed too hard and her eight-year-old was lost to her, forever?

The only good thing that seemed to come out of all of this was that Toby and Bay seemed to be even closer than they had previously been. Not to say that they weren't close to begin with... But she rarely saw her two children farther than a few feet apart. Unless they were sleeping, or taking showers; then they were farther apart. Until that morning, she didn't think they'd do anything separately.

When Toby had come down the stairs without Bay, her motherly instinct told her something was wrong with both her babies, more so than was normal these days.

The look from Toby told her that she shouldn't bother Bay today, not even for their lessons in ASL, which their deaf child seemed to be having more difficult learning than the rest of them.

Bay hadn't felt like getting out of bed the first day of July. She didn't want to bother her brother, feeling like she was imposing on him by seeming so needy all the time. When Toby came into her bedroom, she'd be sure to tell him that he should have fun while he still could, summer didn't last forever. Even if it felt like it dragged on and on into a never ending cycle.

Learning sign language was something she had thought she wanted, until last week when she had realised that she was, in fact, deaf and it wasn't a nightmare she'd wake up from.

After that, she hadn't wanted to move, she hadn't wanted to talk or go learn a new language. She knew her unwillingness to move was starting to worry her parents, so she got up and moved and pretend like everything was alright, when everyone knew it wasn't.

XxXxXxX

August came with more tears and stress. Bay had been deaf for a little over two months, and though they were all good at signing (for a family who had barely started learning it), it was still something they had a tendency to forget about at least once a week.

The artist of the family made her way down to her paint studio, staring at her supplies for a few minutes before she did something she never thought she'd do. She broke her paint brushes, her pencils, she broke it all.

After an hour, her studio was in ruins and she didn't feel any better. School was going to start up in a few days and she couldn't fathom what everyone was going to be like.

She felt tears prick her eyes before she pushed them away. She felt sick. How was she going to tell her parents, her brother, that she didn't have the drive to paint anymore? That she wanted things to go back the way they where?

She let out a sob and rubbed her face, trying to compose herself before she set about to make her studio look clean again. She didn't want to do anything artistic, but maybe she'd need to destroy something again, in the future.