Hear

(running)(stops)(looks around)(sits)

So what? They can look for me all they want. I will just sit on this rock.

(looks around nervously)

It’s not like they really care. Plus, they would never suspect… I …

(yells)

that I always hated the feeling!

(quieter and sadder)

This feeling of loneliness, misunderstanding and fear.   

(Looks at a notebook and pen in her hands)

And these stupid things! They only made me feel worse!

(Throws the thing as far as she can)

I mean, whose idea was to make me put words on a piece of paper? And when my pen ran out of ink, I lost my voice.

(pauses)

What was all that for. If I didn’t waste my time, by writing every word I wanted to say on paper, then I would have found a way to make them hear every word that I say out of my mouth. But because I choose to write instead of speak, I feel too different. People think that I am weird, and they never seen what its like, they will never understand. That is why I ran. Out of the city. Out of their lives. And I choose to be an independent person. Find my own way.

(pauses)(lightly laughs)    

Look at me now. Trying to justify my decisions, to myself. I should just stay here. I mean-

(slowly looks around)

-it’s beautiful.

(pauses)

Yea. I wish, that I could stay here forever. Leaving the whole world behind. But that is what everyone wishes for. To have happiness with no great problems and consequences.  I can’t be granted this wish, because that is impossible, unless everyone gets it, and yet that is not possible either. Now I feel ashamed for wishing it.   

(sighs)

Only thing I know is, I can never go back. There was definitely something wrong with me. I spoke to them, but they never heard. Why I am getting obsessed now?!? I am not crazy.

(stands up and starts walking around, every second she walks faster and faster)

I know the difference between the voice in my head and out my mouth. But they… they … they think I’m crazy, they insult me, they make fun of me. They, my-

(makes quotation marks with her fingers)

-“friends” and  “family”.  Yesterday my “best friend” , Lizzy, had to comment (mocking voice) “Hope, don’t your hands get tired of using of that notebook. I mean once I sang in choir too much and lost my voice, but I could not stand writing all my thoughts down for more than 2 hours.”

(stops and sits again)(sighs)

It’s my fault, when I realized that they stopped hearing me, I could have did something to fix it. But what? I speak every day in front of the mirror. I see my lips moving. I feel my throat vibrating and moving. Then a tear drops, then another followed, and by the time I realize that it’s killing me not to be able to be heard, I’ve already decided not to pity myself.

(puts her face in her palms)  

If I can’t get used to myself. How are others supposed to? I have to accept it. I have to become braver. Wait...

(looks up)

And you know what? I am unique. If they have a problem with it, it’s their problem, not mine.  

(her bracelet falls off, she kneels down and picks it up)

What happened? Why did my bracelet fall of. This bracelet is bad news anyway. I mean the girl that gave it to me disappeared. And sometime after that people stopped hearing me. Oh well, It can’t be helped.

(throws the bracelet, looks to the side and sees a person)

“Hi. Uh, why am I even speaking to you. I mean you can’t hear me anyway.”

(pauses and listens)

“Wait”

(pauses and listens)

“Waht!?!? But how?!?”

(pauses and listens)

“You can actually hear me?!?”    

(stands up and starts running towards the way she entered)