New Voices

New Voices
         When your parents say that the teenage years are the hardest of your life, just listen to them while they’re still with you. I’m Judas Vinci, and I’m an orphan. My parents died when I was seven, but they were very intelligent and gave me a fitting name. Although I really thought it was just something to be called, it was the same name as the apostle who betrayed Jesus, which was why it hasn’t been used as much over the years. I found this out for my second grade project, and now you probably see why I wasn’t so eager to share.
         My life has been increasingly difficult as I get older, partially because of my daunting demeanor, and also because of my muteness and deafness. I have been a perfect target for bullies, and I used to get pranks pulled on me daily. Now, people just leave me alone because I look different. I am tall and lean, with a ruffled mop of silky hair that covers my scarred left eye.  I always wear a beanie hat to cover up stitches from my many surgeries. If you look at my hair as it flips upward out of my beanie, it’s black, but under the beanie my hair is white-blonde. You can’t see the natural color because I always wear my hat wherever I go. My mother was a hair stylist, and she always tried out her methods on me before any of her clients. I always thought my ruffled hair looked funny, but Ski, my comedian friend, thinks it makes me look original. I’m sickly pale, even in the summer, and have light freckles that speckle my nose and cheeks. My tan has faded from being in hospitals so much, I used to have terrible cancer that made every touch seem like someone was cutting me with a knife. One day, even though I have been made fun of, I’ll be famous for something. That day has yet to come, but when it does, I’ll be ready.
         
It was a cloudy, grey day at the Vinci Estate Private Beach. The green waves lapped at the white sand and at my ashen feet. I had been waiting for Violete, a member in my pitifully small group of friends. Suddenly, I felt a vibration of footsteps behind me, and I turned to see Violete’s shining emerald eyes and raven hair. She plunked herself beside me and kicked off her shoes, revealing neon blue and purple toenails.
“Beautiful day isn’t it?” she said with a grin.
“I guess so,” I said glumly in sign language. She examined me curiously, then snapped her fingers and smiled.
“Hey, I got something that’ll cheer you up!” she laughed. I managed to raise an eyebrow as she pulled a battered flyer out of her jean pocket. I snatched it from her and scanned over the message.
Hey You! Are you a good skateboarder, willing to compete for some serious cash?
What: Skating Tournament.
Where: Skate Park at 10:00.
When: December 29th.
Prize money is 100,000 Dollars!
I met her eyes slowly and smiled ear to ear, my purple eyes sparking with pure glee. She started to return the smile, but her face went from complete euphoria to a twisted and crazed look. She tried to say something, but something struck me forcefully at the top of my neck, and my eyes rolled back into my head.
         Intense white lights and the nauseating reek of disinfectant woke me up like an earsplitting alarm. I was in a clean hospital bed, with my arms hooked up to multiple beeping machines. I frantically turned and ripped an IV out of my arm, leaking a clear chemical from the needle. I pulled out countless needles, and soon I was bleeding all over the sheets. Two pairs of hands were soon over my arms, making me look up. Violete was wiping my arms off with a towel, and Ski was watching, looking like he was about to vomit. Ski said something, probably cracking a joke, and Violete laughed half-heartedly, still concentrating at my arms. This was one of the reasons I really loved Violete, nothing could distract her from what needed to get done.  Ski hoisted me up out of the bed, then slipped my dirt-encrusted backpack onto his shoulders and shouted something. This was against his usually perky attitude. His blue eyes were dull, and his energetic red hair seemed to droop. He was normally funny and bubbly, but looked depressed. Something was definitely wrong. Violet took my hand, which made me turn red, and we rushed outside into the brilliantly white courtyard.
         “What happened?” I signed.
         “You were knocked out because some genius,” She paused and glared daggers at Ski, who blushed with embarrassment and looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle, “Threw a rock and hit you in the spine. The doctors did a CAT scan and figured out that you have spinal cancer. I didn’t want you in that hospital for your last days; you’re staying with the two of us.” It was hard to focus on her graceful signs, partially from my racing thoughts, and partially from the fuzzy feeling I got from realizing she was still holding my hand. Cancer? Again?  I thought. I don’t want to die! I can’t leave Violete and Ski! I clenched my fists in anger, and tears started pouring down my cheeks like rain. Something crumpled in my hand, and I looked down. The Skateboarding Tournament flyer was still there. If the last thing that I could do was skateboard, then so be it. 
“What’s the date and time?” I signed.
“December 29th, it’s 9:45.”
I had fifteen minutes before the competition. I pointed to my backpack that Ski was carrying, “Is my skateboard in there?” I asked. Violete turned around and unzipped my backpack. She searched through it, making numerous gum wrappers and old homework fall onto the ground like winter snow. She grunted, and then pulled my skateboard from the mountain of junk. She chucked it at me, and it landed on my foot with a crash.
“Nice cat-like reflexes. DEAD cat-like reflexes.” She signed with a smirk.
“Ha Ha.” I mouthed sarcastically. I turned the skateboard over with my foot and got on. I then shoved the crinkled flyer into her hands. She looked at the flyer, then to me.
“Are you sure about this?” She questioned unsurely. I nodded. She looked at me with her emerald eyes, looking hurt.  I took her shoulder, pulled her closer, and gave her a sweet, gentle kiss. I pulled away from her and sped off toward the skate park. Leaving a blushing girl and a very confused friend behind me.
         After getting through the security lines and registering, I was in BMX Fever, a skate and bike park. Graffiti covered the concrete walls, and there was no clean inch of space anywhere in the park. A tattooed security guard looked me up and down before I was allowed to perform. He droned on about something, probably explaining the rules, but I glanced around nervously, sweat beading on the back of my neck. He jostled me and pointed to the half pipe, muttering about my attention span. I gulped and wiped my palms on my jeans.
I was on.

The rest of the competition was a blur. I remember doing a few basic tricks like an ollie and a manual, then ramping it up to a laser spin, one of the hardest tricks in history. I could feel all eyes on me. I knew I had to win. This was mostly for Violete and Ski, because I knew I had to prove something to them before I was gone forever. It was a true rush to be in the spotlight for once, and deep in my heart, I knew that I was doing something for myself too. With all these thoughts running through my head, time flew by and soon I was on a podium, staring at a gold medal hanging around my neck, and being handed a check for 100,000 dollars. I couldn’t believe that I had actually won. I kept rubbing my eyes and thinking that I was dreaming. This was finally one of the few things that I could be acknowledged for. I, Judas Vinci, had never won anything in my life. I remember smiling with my friends and having my picture taken. My heart was swollen with happiness. This was a truly inspiring moment for me, and if I could go back in time to relieve it, I’d would.
I don’t remember much after that, except I stumbled, fell, blacked out, and woke up in the same hospital, coincidentally. My eyesight was blurry and I tried to focus on whoever was stroking my hand, I nearly jumped when I realized it was Violete.
“Good news, you don’t have spinal cancer.” She said in a smooth voice, “The CAT scan results were mixed u with yours. So you’re perfectly fine. ” She turned away, looking at a few more cuts on my hand. I had never heard Violete talk before, but the sound was like silk against my skin. I soon snapped back to reality. How could I hear her? Wasn’t I deaf? Questions buzzed angrily in my mind like bees.
“V-Violete!” I stuttered. She instantly turned to me.
“Did you just talk?” she asked. Her eyes widened, “Do it again! Say something to me!” I looked her in the eye and gulped. I knew exactly what to say to her, because it was now or never, and I wasn’t quite sure how long I would be able to speak for.
“V-Violete Cross.” I struggled to get the words out, “I n-need you to know t-that…” I paused, wondering how she would react.
“Please, Judas, tell me. What is it?”
  I took her hands and looked deep into her eyes, “I love you.” I think we just stayed there for a few moments, until finally I leaned forward and hugged her, getting her wet with my tears.
“I’ve been waiting for the day you’d say that.” She whispered, “I’m so glad you did today.”

I later asked the doctor how I could hear and speak. He told me that I was a true miracle, because when I fell off the podium and smacked my skull, something clicked in my brain and made me latch onto the controls of my senses. He also said that I could hear better than anyone else, and even though I haven’t spoken before, I would sound like a normal person. I wanted to jump with joy as soon as he said those words. I was finally perfect, no impairments. I quickly grasped the concept that Violete still loved me when I wasn’t impaired. I got the same warm feeling inside, and I knew that we would be together for a long, long time.
Every time, when I look back and reflect on that day, I realize that I had already reached my goal of being famous. I wasn’t the type of famous where people crowd around you and ask for your autograph, but I was the kind of famous that everyone deserves to be. I was the famous where you can be yourself and still be loved.