Julkalender

The next morning it came. What I had been waiting for. A message from my mother.

“I have left him now. I'm at my sisters house. Please drop by,” she said. I hurried to send back a message.

“I'll be there later today. Love you,”

I showed him the message and he smiled and whispered things in my ear that I couldn't hear, but still the tickle that his breath made against my neck felt warm and calming.

Later that day, Bert had left to meet the other guys and I felt that I had to do something. I needed to speak to my father, alone. So I took the bus, hoping Bert wouldn't come back before I did.

I rubbed my head. The pain was coming back. I didn't know if I should take that as a good or bad sign, since I had started to associate the pain with the fact that I could hear and speak again. Still the pain felt quite unnecessary since I wanted to stay focus as I talked to him.

The light were out and the house looked dark, but his car stood at the driveway, waiting for me. I opened the door and noticed that my hand was shaking. Stupid hand. I'm not afraid. Just sad, and angry and.. determined.

He was sitting on the sofa, and as I walked towards him he looked up, with tears streaming down his cheeks. I weakend inside as I saw him and bent forwards, putting my arms around him. We embraced each other, and he was sobbing hard and shaking. As the worst crying was over I sat down beside him.

“She left me,” he signed, and held up a letter from her.

“I know,” I signed. He looked up, surprised. “You know?” he asked and I nodded.

“I told her too, because...” I said but he interrupted me by holding up his hands. “YOU told her?” he asked. I nodded, and opened my mouth to explain. But he wouldn't let me. A strike across my face and I became silent. I fell to the floor, and he stood up, and pulled me up, so that he could hit me again, and again and again. My tears were mixed with my blood now, and it dropped on his face, making him look mad, the few times I saw him between the strikes. As I couldn't stand up anymore, he started kicking me instead. I screamed as I felt a rib break, and as his foot hit my head something in my head exploaded, and it was more pain everywhere.

“STOP,” I screamed and my voice echoed in the quiet house. “Please, dad. Stop,” I whispered. Then I fainted.

Everything after that was just blurry, and the only thing focused was the voices. I could hear them so clearly. I soon realized that I was in a hospital, and people were talking about me.
“I'm so sorry, so sorry,” I could hear my fathers voice, almost a whisper and I was surprised that I could hear him.

“YOU SHOULD BE, YOU BASTARD,” someone else screamed. Bert? I smiled somewhere in my mind and wanted to tell him that I was alright, I couldn't feel any pain.

Somewhere behind all the noises I heard another one. Someone was crying. I wondered if it was only in my head, or if it was real.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, calmer. A stranger answered.

“No, she has received analgesic. She doesn't feel anything. But I think she can hear you,” he said. I smiled somewhere. Yes, yes I can hear you.

“SHE CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING, SHE'S DEAF,” my father screamed.

“Oh, could you get him out of here,” Bert said. “I know you can hear me Hayley. The doctors are saying that your brain is responding to sounds, and the infection is completely gone. You are healthy,” he whispered somewhere near me. I smiled and actually felt the corners of my mouth move.

“She smiled,” someone said. Was it my father? I couldn't recognize him. I was beginning to fall asleep. I was getting tired, so very tired. As I fell asleep the crying stopped.