`|Hear . Me . Write|{OPEN}

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- Seeing may be believing but hearing your voice is the truth. ---

Griffin glanced into the clouds. It was the perfect picture. The perfect amount of light was finding its way through them and the clouds were keeping the perfect amount of light out of the earth's reaches. Walking home through the field from school that day gave Griffin the perfect opportunity.

He sat down in the tall grasses. He loved this grassland. It was huge and only a few houses dotted it. Just beyond it, you could watch residents pick the cotton daily, minute after minute, hour after hour. They worked in harmony and one with each other. And Griffin only wished that the sweet songs that they sang to each other across the field would reach his ears. Sadly, that would never happen. Ever.

Griffin tried to tell himself he was useful, tried to think of the right thought to think but couldn't. He still felt like he should die. No one would notice, no one would care. The earth would greet his body with coldness and, perhaps, happiness at his death. It would just swallow him whole and Griffin would enjoy it. And not one person would hear his cries, not even himself. How worthless.

Suddenly the sky darkened as a cloud stretched itself across the grass. Griffin looked up, seeing the white puff consume the sun. But as the cloud moved along the sun attempted to dance through it, shining as bright as possible so it could reach the earth's surface. He lay his sketchbook on his lap and dug the pencil out of his pocket. Although the tip was dull with so much use, Griffin still drew the pretty picture before him.

Griffin sat in the grass, watching all of the the blades sway as one with the wind. The occasional grasshopper would hop from one blade of grass to the next landing smoothly each time. It looked to Griffin like they had their whole life figured out, their entire purpose. To jump and to leap and to chirp. Or at least that is what his father has explained to him. He always complains about their chirps at night. But Griffin would give anything to hear those annoying chirps all night long. Anything.

Griffin looked down at his sketchbook and realized he had begun to draw the landscape in front of him. The people picking cotton, the grass swaying, the sun and clouds. He was even drawing the grasshoppers on the blades of grass. Griffin was amazed at how often he didn't realize he was drawing. He guessed it had sort of become second nature to him, considering it was all he did. All he could do.

He quickly added shading to his art, smearing graphite all over his fingertips as he did so. It made his fingers feel smooth when he rubbed them together. He liked that; It was such a neat sensation to him. He was careful not to smear his hands over the rest of the paper and signed his name in curly lettering.

He looked down at it. Satisfied? No. It was missing something. It didn't feel right. It didn't fully explain what he was feeling, what he wanted the picture to represent. He grabbed the blue pen that was in his pants after he put his pencil back in the pocket. He wiped the bit of lint off the pen and looked down once more. His pen met his paper and wrote from his memory what he had read so many times ...

'God chose that I should never talk
and share a voice with you.
My world will be a silent one--
my ears hears nothing, too.

Why was it I was chosen to be
so all alone--
My inner voice was asking if
the answer could be known.

Then I look into the mirror and
saw good things looking back,
I had to take the positives--
put them on the right track.

I thought a lot about it,
and now I want to shout,
The wondrous gifts God gave me
outnumber what He left out.

So let me take the challenge in
meetings life's demands--
I have the power to change things,
and it lies here in my hands.'

---Stevie Drown

Griffin lay back, squishing the grass beneath his back. It tickled at his neck and ears but he didn't know what to do. So he just lay there, looking up at the clouds. He hoped no one would catch him at such a weak point, but he was used to it. Besides no one could see like he could, no person would be able to see the pain.

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

School had gotten out only half an hour ago, maybe forty five minutes, and she had only been home less than ten on them and it was already time to leave. Her mother had been working all day and now it was her time to join her. She set dinner on the table for her younger brothers and covered in with a cloth to keep it warm and to repel the insects. Time was running short today so she grabbed her sweater and ran out the door. If she wanted to take the leisurely walk today, she would have to leave now. Today she was feeling especially frustrated because a girl that she knew well from school was in the stocks taking a loaf of bread. Ember knew Tamma and knew that the only reason she would ever do that was to feed her three younger siblings who were probably starving. It made her furious to see what she had to go through and why and to know she couldn't do anything about it. All she could do was give her sad, sympathic smile and then come over in a few days to check on her.

The leisure walk for Ember was to walk through the fields and down the dirt road to the textile factory where she worked. It was great for her because it cleared her head, she got to be alone, and she got to see the one part of District 8 that was beautiful; the countryside. She walked through the fields, trying to relax, watching the clouds, humming to distract herself from her boiling frustration. She couldn't think about all the bad things that were happening. If she did she would go off at the supervisor and she didn't want her or her mother to lose their jobs or to be beat like when she was younger.

She thought of the new book she was reading. It was a book about a war from a long time ago, even before the dark days back in a country that once stood where Panem did. It was really interesting and had her hooked from the moment she read the first page. Suddenly, she trip over something rather large and did sommersaults, tumbling to the ground. Dizzy and dishevled, she looked up and saw a boy around her age was lying on the ground. Her tailbone now ached and she might have sprained her wrist. Without hesitation, she went off on him. "Great! Now I've sprained my wrist!"

she said to herself and then directed her next outburst at him. "How in all of Panem am supposed to make cloth like this! Why in all of District 8 did you chose to lie down in here of all places!"[/color]

It was really uncalled for to snap at someone she didn't know for doing something he didn't really do. After all, he was just lying down. She was the one to trip over him. But she was in a bad mood and sometimes she couldn't control what came out of her mouth. It was just that a lot made her angry because she was stubburn, smart, and opinionated. The thing that bothered her the most was injustice and she hated seeing others in pain. That was what riled her up today. It wasn't right of her to take her frustration out on someone she didn't know but there was just a lot going through her brain right now. Hopefully, she would be in a fit state to work today or else she was in trouble and there was a lot of other things bothering her besides her new injury and Tamma's punishment but those were nothing new.

It wasn't easy being the middle child and only girl in a family of five children. Her two older brothers and her father would be working in the cotton field not too far away and would be there until sundown and her two younger brothers would be coming home from school in a half hour. She wished she could be there for them after school but she had to help her mother at work. This was the only way to keep the food on the table and not have any of them take out a tessarae. Life was difficult but she just had to accept it and get along. There were worse things that could happen.[/justify][/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- Let me hear freedom. ---

Griffin had been laying in the field for about five minutes now. He was nearly asleep, but his eyes kept fluttering open, wanting to watch the sun sink lower and lower in the sky. It was so important that he see every beautiful thing in life. See it, and live it. He was beginning to get lost in thought now, or rather in the poem. Reciting in his mind over and over again.

Griffin tried to tell himself that the poem was true. But he couldn't find any part of himself that was worthy enough to fit it. It had to be for some other deaf person, because when he looked at his reflection, he saw a failure. An utter failure. He wasn't the deaf child that God had chose for greatness.

Suddenly, Griffin felt a foot in his ribs. He lost his breath for and sat straight up, trying to regain it. He felt his long unused vocal cords send out a grunt and air escaping his lungs in a gasp. His face was etched in pain and he clutched his side. That might live a mark. What was going on?

He looked beside him in all directions until his eyes finally found a girl on the ground. She tripped over him. Oops. He must've been in the way again. The grass around him was flat to the ground, as well as where the girl had rolled. She seemed fine, but he realized that when she was holding her wrist, she wasn't.

She turned on him and Griffin scrambled backwards, trying to stand up straight. As he stood he found himself taller than her. But that definitely didn't stop her from being angry. He watched her frustration with him grow and well, he just stood there. This is how it always went. He would have to wait for her to relax before he could do much of anything. He just looked at her while she yelled. It was always a bit odd doing that but at least it made him look like he was paying attention.

She did have pretty eyes, even if they had rage pulsing through them. But he looked away. He figured out quickly in life that when he looked into people's eyes the grew uncomfortable. He didn't know why though. Eyes were such a beautiful thing, who wouldn't want to look at them?

He suddenly remembered he had his sketchbook. Maybe it would be easier to explain things in words. He walked past this girl and bent over to grab his sketchbook an his pencil which had fallen from behind his ear. He flipped to a blank page and simply wrote,
'I cannot hear.' and held it up to the girl. Then he covered one ear and shrugged. This was how he usually signed it for people.

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

The boy stood up as she continued to sit in the grass, holding her wrist and then he leaned down for something as if not paying attention to what she was saying. That really irritated her when people chose not to listen to her. Afterall, she was hurt. The least he could do was apologize. Well, that was how she felt now when she was frustrated and irrational. The boy got a booklet and pencil and wrote something down. What, she didn't know but she could hardly see how it was relevant to anything that was going on.

Until he flipped the booklet over to show her what he had written. It said 'I cannot hear.' Ember paused, just staring at the words. Now she felt like an idiot, not to mention a big jerk. It wasn't his fault that he was lying there. He couldn't hear her coming and she didn't see him lying there. It was just something that happened. A bit of color rose to her cheeks and she looked downward at her knees, to embarrassed by how she reacted. It was only right to apologize to him. She wished she could stand up to look him straight in the face to tell him. That was what you were supposed to do when communicating with a deaf person, right? But she couldn't because her wrist and tail bone ached and now that she examined it, a tad bit of blood came from her scraped knees.

Hopefully he could lip read, so she looked up at him, who was towering above her, and said slowly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

[/color] That was all she could think to say. She was embarrassed about how she behaved and vaguely thought of what her parents told her often. 'You ought to watch your tongue. One of these days you'll regret who you snap at.'[/color] She guessed that today they were right. They didn't just mean yelling at a Peacekeeper or the Supervisor but people in general.[/color][/justify]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
---A hero need not listen, only understand. ---

Griffin slowly sat back down in the grass, still holding the pad out in front of him. He watched the rage fade away in the girl's eyes. Sympathy. That's what grew there now. It was almost always sympathy. Either that or confusion.

He could tell she was a bit embarrassed and flustered by her outburst earlier. Her cheeks were turning a pink and she was looking down. Griffin noticed she had scraped her knees. They were bleeding. He should probably help her clean them up or get to her house or cover them or something. Open cuts were bad around here.

Eventually she started mouthing words. Griffin was fairly good at lip reading, but all he could make out was the word
'Sorry.' leaving her lips. Yea, yea. You are sorry. Everyone seemed to think he didn't know that. Sympathy was in every person, some of it buried deeper beneath, but it was there. It was an overpowering emotion and it usually controlled most. It controlled him.

He wrote again on his tablet.
'Griffin Brayden Edwards.'
Then he used his right hand for his name sign. His Dad had helped him make a sign for himself. Griffin read that many do it this way. It makes it simpler for the interpretor and the signer.

He made a American Sign Language 'G'. It was simply pointing with his left hand sideways at himself. Then he opened he made a fist and hit his left shoulder, thumb down. It was simple and easy. He pointed again at his name on the paper and again did the sign. Usually doing this twice gave them a message but he did it again for good measure. He hoped she understood.

Then he held out the sketchbook and pencil to her gingerly. He touched his name then pointed at her. This part was tricky. Always had been, and Griffin figured it always would be. If she was confused, he would simply take the sketchbook back and write what he wanted but he wasn't sure yet if it would be necessary.

Name.

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

It still made her feel bad for the way she acted even though he seemed unshaken by her yelling at him. She wasn't always like that, well not in public. It was often learning how to put a mask over her real emotions. Her parents must've know from day one because they named her Ember. She definitely had fire inside her. That was how she was. There was just so much passion in her and she cared so much about other people that she hated to see all the horrors that happened in District 8 every day.

Ember didn't know much about being deaf but she had picked up a few signs from when she was little when her grandma was still alive but could remember much at all. In school, she learned about different types of people; blind, deaf, etc. She saw him sign something after pointing to his name and figured that that was his name in sign language. He then gestured for her to take the booklet and she assumed that he wanted her name. She wrote in a neat cursive font 'Ember Hilbrook'

and then thought about a name sign. She didn't have one so she wrote 'I don't have a sign for my name though.'[/color]

She thought about work and knew that because she took the leisurely walk, she had enough time to talk some. Maybe they could talk and walk on the way to her work together. He seemed nice and vaguely she remembered seeing him around school. They never talked before but they were probably in a few classes together. They were in the same grade after all.

(OOC: This plot is so awesome for me because I just started taking American Sign Language in school and I'm like 'OMG I just learned that!' lol)[/justify][/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- Don't trust your eyes. Unless you are deaf; then trust them with all your heart. ---

Griffin loosened his grip on the sketchpad as she took it from his hands. She wrote. Then puzzled. Then wrote again. She showed it to him. It read,'Ember Hilbrook. I don't have a sign for my name though.' He nodded at her. Ember. Like in the fire? He would check the meaning of the word later.

Griffin thought for a moment. He wasn't sure if he knew her, but he must as they probably were the same age. Obviously this little incident had never happened before though, so he didn't actually know her. He didn't know many names, only the ones his father would mention and tell him about. But even with that he only knew a handful of names.

He took his sketchbook back and wrote, 'Bandages?' Then handed the paper to her, then he pointed to her knees. He didn't want them unattended to. They looked like minor cuts, but they were bleeding.

But more than anything Griffin wanted to sit back down and enjoy the view. The clouds were beginning to turn deep reds and purples and pinks. It was very pretty. He could smell the night air coming and the grasses he and Ember had trampled down smelled fresh like fresh cut grass always did. He was also getting hungry. He hadn't eaten in awhile.

But he waited. He needed his sketches back if he was going to leave anyway. The thing was, he didn't really want to leave. Usually, he didn't even get this far into a conversation with someone. She was listening to his words. And his hands. Unusual. And he still wasn't sure if it was out of pity, or out of ... well, just wanting to talk. He'd decide later.

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

He wrote on the sheet of paper again and handed it back to her. As her knees were bleeding, he asked if she needed some bandages. She probably did since she didn't want them to get infected or anything. Now she wrote down, 'I'm going to work so I can get it there. Do you want to walk with me there?'

Ember had friends, not close ones, but they were casual friends. They weren't the kind of people that she could talk to about everything she thought. Most people didn't understand how she thought. She always thought much father in advance than kids her age and most people accepted the life they lived in Panem, whether it was bad or not. Ember wasn't like that. She thought about everything and questioned everything. it was who she was.

She could never express that to others. Not anything really. It just seemed awkward to her. Though there was something about this boy named Griffin that seemed so inviting, something that made her want to talk to him. She didn't know what but she didn't really want to stop talking to him. Hopefully he felt the same.[/justify][/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- A moment is time well spent. ---

Griffin watched once again as Ember wrote in her curly handwriting. She soon handed it back to him and as he read he felt a grin creep onto his face. It read, 'I'm going to work so I can get it there. Do you want to walk with me there?' She definitely was different than most.

Griffin looked up at her and nodded with a grin. He loved the idea of a walk, especially with how nice it was getting to be. Griffin just hoped it wouldn't rain on them. He smelled it in the air, it was coming, even if he couldn't see it. It actually smelled refreshing though, considering the previous heat.

Griffin waited for her to lead the way. He wasn't going to waste more paper and precious mineral the made his pencil. Graphite being so scarce now. He made a mental note to use his pen. He put his pencil back in his deep, blue jean pockets and pulled out his blue pen.

But as he did so he dropped his sketchbook and it fell to the ground. It opened to his picture. He bent down and picked it up. The blue ink from the poem he had just remembered popped from the page.

'God chose that I should never talk ...'

He stood back up, not reading the rest. He quickly tried to flip to another page. He'd read it later, when he was alone, where he was aloud to cry, to be as much of a baby as he wanted to. But he knew he shouldn't pity himself. He didn't deserve any pity form anyone, including himself.

He just continued along with Ember. Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

Griffin got up and Ember decided to take that as an accept to her invitation. They walked through the grass together, a few moments of silence while they trudged along. The wind wasn't strong but enough to feel nice on her face. Wind was good and bad to her. She loved how it touched her skin and played with her hair but its sound always bothered her. Then she thought of not hearing it at all, like Griffin. It made her sad to think of what it would be like not to hear. Never to hear the lullabies her mother sang to her and her brothers. Not to hear the rain at her window or the laughing of her brothers. Not to hear birds chirp or teachers teach. Of course there were things she wished she'd never heard. Like the cries of hungry children or those who lost their loved ones to execution or illness or starvation. Like the sounds of guns and whips that happened to law breakers in the District. Like the sounds associated to the Hunger Games. But weighing it out, she felt that she would much rather tolerate hearing those things than miss out on hearing in general. There was a lot of wonderful things to hear and not hearing the bad things would do anything. There was no escaping them. Here in Panem, you see them and worse, you live them. Blocking out their sound would do little to ease the pain it causes you.

But it wasn't the right time to think of that now. She grabbed the booklet, not forcefully but with his willingness and wrote, 'Can you read lips or only sign?' It would be easier for her to just talk what she wanted to say and read what he had to say on paper. To her, that would save time but if he couldn't, she wouldn't mind writing things down either. Maybe one day, she could learn to sign. That was the only other way of communicating, the only other language. It would be interesting to say she knew it. Maybe she could teach her brothers or even her friends and it would be like a code. Or if the two became friends, it would be cool to communicate that way so that no one would no what they were saying. Her secrets could be safe with him.

(OOC: BTW, I may be changing my playby so don't be surprised if a new picture pops up of someone different.)

[/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- Only He decides your true purpose in life. ---

Griffin walked along side Ember for a little while in silence. Well, of course, it was in silence to him all the time but their were no words on paper. No ink leaving pen. It was peaceful though. Griffin watched as a few birds flew out from their hiding places in the grass. Flying sure would be enjoyable; enlightening.

Suddenly Griffin's attention was jerked back towards Ember as she grabbed the sketchbook and pen. Griffin let go willingly as she did. He watched her and waited for words to appear in front of his eyes on the paper. She handed it back to him and it read,

'Can you read lips or only sign?'

Griffin held the pen and wrote 'I can. Please speak slowly though.'

Then he held it out to her for her to read. He really wasn't the greatest lip reader, but he did have his fair share of practice with it and he could make out most of the words. And of course if he failed, he could just ask her to write it out again.

They continued walking but Griffin knew she must have wanted to say something if she asked the question. He kept watching her lips though. When he did lip read he needed to be looking at the speaker constantly. When he was younger he would forget that he agreed to lip read and they would have to tap him to get his attention back. And then sometimes he would forget to write his response, not sign it out. But he had outgrown that now luckily.

ooc:: Okay. Noted ;D And I have always wanted to learn sign language!! xD

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

At Griffin's confirmation of his ability to read lips, she felt relieved. It would be a lot easier to communicate for her if she only had to walk, talk, and read rather than walk, talk, read, and write. She began a conversation with him like she would normally but talked at a much slower pace than she was use to. Hopefully, she wasn't making things more difficult for him. "We're in the same grade right? I think I've seen you around school sometimes."

They finally got to the dirt road that divide the field from another that had cotton. This road would take her down into town to where the textile factory was. She worked there to help out her mother and make ends meet. Three of the five children worked, two of them only after school, in order to keep Ember and her older and her young brothers from taking tessaera. She didn't want enjoy working but it sure beat starving or getting a higher chance for competing the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games were something that everyone wished to avoid. It meant almost certain death, especially for those in lower districts like 8. She wondered if Griffin was excluded from participating because of him being deaf. Hopefully that was the case. It would be awful to have to have that disadvantage in the arena.[/justify][/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- The magic in you makes me see the magic inside me. ---

Griffin watched her lips move. He caught most of her question. She wanted to know if they were in the same grade. She thought she saw him around. Simple enough to answer. He wrote his response down on the paper as a drop of rain hit above where he was writing. Odds are he would either be walking home in the rain or help Ember at work. And work and him didn't really get along well. Hearing was essential to work.

And the Games. He had just watched Saskia Hamilton in the Games. He figured he would probably be alot like that ... Probably worse. No allies. No sponsors. And, eventually, no heartbeat. But he was positive the Capitol would find it entertaining. His father had translated the interviews off the television they had at his house. At every comment a tribute made the Capitol reacted accordingly. Over-dramatizing all of there reactions as well. A bit funny to watch; They all looked like they were trying to talk to him with their dramatic gestures and body language.

He handed the sketchbook to Ember.

'Yes, same grade for sure. You have family?'

Of course, this question seemed a bit more personal to him. He was an only child, living only with his father. His mom had left when he was little. She had always cried around him and was too upset to stay with him. But she still cared, because every month or so his mother sent him gifts from the place in the Capitol where she worked. Griffin knew he was lucky, with his mom always sending clothes and special foods. She always sent oranges. He loved them. It was something he could associate with her. Something sentimental.

She read the question then handed back the sketchbook. They had come up on the dirt road where the cotton field was. Griffin noticed some mice scurrying around the edges of each field. He wondered if mice, all mice, were one big family. All working together as one. Life would be so much easier if the human race was like that. Everyone working together in unison.

Then there might be peace in Panem.

[Ashley (Ember, Wren, August)]

So, he was in her grade. It wasn't a surprise that she wasn't friends with him. Yes, she had friends but she wasn't ever particularly close to anyone and she figured that he was the same. Not being able to hear, he probably didn't socialize often. Next he inquired about her family. She had a lot to say but she paced herself so she wouldn't lose him in her rapid speed that most girls talk in.

"I have a mother and a father. My mom works in the textile factory and I work there to help her out. My dad works in the cotton fields and my two older brothers, Gram and Lennor, help him out. My two younger brothers, Kaniel and Arden, too young are so they don't work yet. But my older brothers and I do so we don't have to take out tesserae." She was probably giving too much detail but it saved her time to explain everything now than have him ask several questions. She then asked, "What about you?"

[/color]

She wondered if he had any siblings, maybe sisters. She always wanted a sister; a younger one. Someone that she could braid their hair and teach them songs but she had four brothers. She loved them all but she often felt like their mother instead of their sister. Her mother didn't always have time to mother them because she was either working at the factory or sleeping or doing housework. There was not much time for nuturing and advice. Well, not for the boys. Ember had hours a day with her mother to talk about anything. Of course, the conversation was limited to a degree because of the supervisor and the occasional Peacekeeper visits but they could talk about most things anyways.[/justify][/color]

[arx!!]

»---> ♥ ```Arx!!
--- Don't be determined, be ready. ---

Griffin concentrated hard as Ember answered his question. It was a bit obvious that speaking slowly was a little weird for her but she probably wouldn't tell him that even if he asked if she wanted to speak her normal speed. Even at the slow speed he couldn't manage to get her brothers' names. Names were unique in that way. Griffin wasn't able to infer them like other words.

But he did catch everything else. She had four brothers. Parents she lived with. They all worked so no one had to sign up for tessera. Griffin felt lazy and self-centered compared to Ember and her family. He didn't have to work at all and still didn't have to sign up for tessera. Guilt surged through him. He was worthless and should die, so why didn't he sign up for tessera for someone else to have the benefits? Useless.

He also saw how different their families were. Ember had both her parents. She had four brothers. They all worked just to make ends meet. Griffin only had his dad. He had no siblings. And only his father had to work to make ends meet. Such different lifestyles; such different people.

Griffin watched her lips speak a question. She wanted to know about his family. He grabbed his pen but pondered for just a moment. Should he be detailed about what he wrote? Ember certainly had been. And he respected her for that. So he wrote something that didn't make his life seem worse than hers, because, well, it wasn't.

'I live with my father. He works in a factory line. I do not have to work or pay tessera. Easy life.' He finished and showed her the sketchbook.

He was so useless. To the world, to Panem, to District 8, to Ember ... even himself. Uselessness can't happen in the world they live today. It should be forbidden, intolerable. If he could trade his life with any tribute who has now passed, he would. Because they were more important to society than a deaf boy ever could be, and ever will be.

He was the walking dead.

Foreign, scary, and useless.