"I must admit. I don't see a case like this very often. It's very rare that someone would constantly think that their thoughts were available for everyone to hear. When did this start?"
"A couple of months ago. He started humming to himself to keep himself from thinking. He's always searching for something to distract his thoughts."
"Is there anything that you think could have triggered this in Thomas?"
"Not that I know of."
"Are you sure?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Kids like this don't develop a disorder like this out of no where. There's usually other factors helping it. Like a home life that is, shall we say… not up to par?"
"Are you saying that I abuse my son?"
"I want to find out what's wrong with Thomas as much as you do. And that involves asking any and every question there is."
---
"Hello Thomas, take a seat," Mr. Mayer said. A seven year old Thomas stood timidly in the doorway, small headphones around his ears and a Sony tape player playing music into them. "It's ok Thomas, I'm not going to bite." Thomas took small steps into the big office and took a seat in a large red leather chair. He sad cross legged with his hands clutching his tape player in his lap. Mr. Mayer got up from where he was sitting and extended his hand to Thomas's head in attempt to remove the headphones from his head. "How bout you take these off so you can hear me better." Thomas closed his tiny hands over his ears and shook his head side to side, making it hard for Mr. Mayer to get them. But he finally did, and with some effort, managed to pry the boy's hands from his tape player. Mr. Mayer sat back down at his desk and looked over at Thomas. His palms were pressed into his eyes and he was softly humming the tune to 'Row Row Row Your Boat.' "Why do you do this?" Mr. Mayer asked in an inquisitive voice.
The humming stopped for a second. "I don't want you to hear what I'm thinking." After he said that, he returned to humming.
"So you block out your thoughts so no one can hear you?" Thomas nodded but never stopped humming. "Why do you do it?"
"I don't know."
"Do you have trouble at home?"
"No."
"You can tell me if you do you know."
"I know. There's no trouble."
"Ok," Mr. Mayer said in an unconvinced voice.
There were a few moments of silence. Thomas had stopped humming but he was fidgeting in the chair. "Can I have my tape player back please?"
"Sure."
---
Thomas closed locker number 101 when he heard footsteps behind him. It was unusual. He had his headphones on and the sounds of the busy school should have drowned out the footsteps. He turned around and was faced with Rachel. "I'm sorry about yesterday," she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I was a little pissed."
"Don't worry about it. It happens," Thomas replied.
"If you don't mind me asking. What happened that day?"
"It's just a disorder I have. Nothing I can't control"
"Okay." Rachel started to walk away when she heard Thomas's voice from behind her.
She turned around and looked at him. This time he looked into her eyes. "Meet me here after school. I want to show you something." Rachel nodded a little and walked down the hall.
---
"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked Thomas as she followed him down the street. He didn't answer though. His music might have been too loud. Soon he stopped in front of an apartment building. He opened the door and led Rachel up three flights of stairs to his apartment. No one was home. Thomas turned on the lights and Rachel noticed that the room was very well kept. Everything was clean and tidy. "Come here," he said, moving his head to the far side of the room. There was a closed door. She followed Thomas to it, and he opened it. What she saw were piles of CD's all over the room. His desk was filled with black CD's and there was a computer right in the middle. There were some on the ground and on his bed and on his stereo. "What is this?" Rachel asked.
Thomas sighed. "I have this… disorder. I always think that other people can hear my thoughts. I know that in reality they cant, but it's something I can't get rid of."
"Is that what the music is for?"
"Yeah. I listen to it to distract me. When I freaked out on you, it wasn't because of your face. I was just trying not to think."
Rachel paused. She had a dumbfounded look on her face. "I…I don't know what to say?"
"It doesn't matter. I just thought that you should know what happened."
"Thanks." She gave him a half smile. It was somewhat of a smirk. It was the first smile he'd ever seen from her. "I bet you want to know what happened to me."
"If you want to tell me. You don't have to if you don't want to."
"No, I do."
---
Rain poured from the sky like Rachel had never seen before. The second she stepped outside she was soaked to the bone. Her house was 7 blocks away. She had no car, no money for a cab, and everyone in the house was too drunk to give her a ride home. Rachel hated alcohol. She wished she hadn't gone to the party. She knew it was going to rain but she had gone anyway. Now she had to run home. She started to run, her Old Navy flip-flops spraying water everywhere every time her feet hit the puddle soaked pavement. Her hair was hanging in wet tendrils and her makeup ran down her face, making her look like a raccoon. A bright flash filled the sky and thunder clapped somewhere in the distance. Rachel shrieked a little, but kept running. She was almost home when lightning struck a telephone wire, making a spray of sparks fall around her. The wire flailed around like an aggravated snake. Rachel waited until it was as far away from her as possible. When it was, she started running as fast as she could. She thought she had made it when she felt a blinding pain across her face and lower back. Rachel screamed and brought her hand to her face. There was blood on her hands and dripping down her face. She felt blood seeping down her legs from her back. The pain was so terrible that she staggered halfway down the block. She was one block away to her house. The blood was getting in her mouth and down her shirt. The pain was blinding her eyes and she heard a loud ringing in her ear. The rain seemed to fall even harder as she managed to make it the rest of the way to her house. She tripped up the steps to her house and fell through the door. "Mom!" she screamed. Then everything went black.
---
"…It hurt like hell. The scars never went away." Her voice had changed. It was sad and lonely, though no tears left her eyes, she felt like crying. But she was stronger than that. She looked back up at Thomas. He didn't have his headphones on anymore. "Why'd you take your headphones off?"
He took a step forward and took her into his arms. Rachel stiffened a little but soon she relaxed. It had been so long since she had been hugged. "There's something about you. It's like… it doesn't matter if you hear me or not. I've never had that happen before."
Rachel smiled against him and when he let her go, she glanced at her watch. It was 4:47. "What is the Matrix," she whispered barely audible for anyone else to hear.
"What?" Thomas asked in a confused voice.
"Oh shit. Oh shit. Thomas, I've got to go," Rachel said in an urgent voice. "I'll see you tomorrow okay?"
"Uh…yeah, okay."
Rachel took off out the door. She didn't know why she said she'd see him tomorrow. She had a feeling that she wouldn't be coming back.