I Survived by Pretending I Can't Hear

Dexter Hoffman panicked.

He straightened up and shouted in my face, "What the hell are you pretending for? I know that you're bluffing!"

I frowned slightly and pretended to be shocked by his sudden proximity, stepping back. I hurriedly wrote, "You're really enthusiastic, but I'm not used to having people talk to me so closely before. You won't get mad at me, will you?"

Dexter was speechless after reading that. His face turned purple.

Mom hurriedly typed on her phone and showed it to me. "How did you turn out like this?"

I wrote, "I had a high fever when I was living in the countryside, but I was too poor to afford treatment, and it damaged my voice and eardrums. That's what happened.

"But it's okay. I'm already used to it. I don't mind that I can't hear anymore because I'm finally home with my family.

"I thought that Dexter would reject me like they always do in those novels, but he doesn't dislike me after all. I'm so happy!"

After I was done writing, I even lowered my head and let my shoulders shudder slightly so that I would look like I was holding back my sobs.

Mom's eyes turned red the moment she read what I'd written. She immediately came up to me and pulled me into her arms, her voice trembling as she said, "My poor child, I'm so sorry for letting you down! You would never have had to suffer if we never lost you back then!"

Dad also set down his coffee mug, his eyes filled with remorse and self-blame.

My elder sister, Desiree Hoffman, walked up to me and patted me heavily on my shoulder. Her tone was firm as she said, "This will be your home from now on, Dante Hoffman. With me around, no one will dare to lay a finger on you."

Dexter stood to the side with a complex expression on his face. He gritted his teeth and glared at me, obviously refusing to believe that I was truly deaf and mute.

I leaned into Mom's embrace and angled myself so that she, Dad, and Desiree couldn't see my face. Then, I cocked an eyebrow at Dexter and curled my lips into a provocative smirk.

Dexter gasped. He pointed at me and yelled, "Mom! Dad! Look at him! He smirked at me! He's definitely lying to us!"

Mom immediately looked at me, but I switched my expression to one of childlike innocence at once. I wrote, "Why is Dexter pointing at me? Does he think I'm filthy?"

Mom felt even more sorry for me. She turned to Dexter at once and chided him.

"Dexter! Dante's already pitiful enough without you yelling and making a scene here instead of sympathizing with him! I'm so disappointed in you!"

Dexter's face turned red with anger. He kicked the couch leg furiously but couldn't find the words to fight back.

At dinnertime, a large feast was set out on the dining table.

After having been reborn 99 times, this was the first time I'd ever finished a meal at the table in peace.

Dad, Mom, and Desiree kept serving me seconds and making sure that I had enough to eat.

My plate kept piling up with food until it was akin to a small hill. And yet, their eyes were still filled with pity toward me. They behaved as though they were trying to make up for everything I'd gone without in the past 18 years in one meal.

Dexter sat opposite me at the table. He sawed his knife through the steak right into the plate and glared at me with gritted teeth.

I simply looked down and continued devouring the food. It felt great being passive like this. I no longer had to read the room, read between the lines, and be overly cautious of what I said. I just had to continue shovelling food into my mouth, and that was it.

Finally, Dexter couldn't hold back anymore. He set down his knife and suddenly asked, "Why are you acting pitiful as soon as you got back, Dante? Is it because you hate me?"

I set down my fork and looked at him with an innocent expression on my face. Then, I picked up my pen and notebook and wrote, "Do you also think the food is great? I really like the steak too. It's juicy but not too greasy."

Dexter froze for two seconds. Then, his face turned red as he raised his voice at me. "I'm not talking about the food! I'm asking you if you hate me!"

I began writing again and showed him my notebook. "Yeah, I like the mashed potatoes too. I love the bacon bits in it."