Where Are You, Adrian?

Growing up in a town where there were not more than fifty Deaf people, it was hard to find a friend that was Deaf just like me. At six years old, I met someone who was just like me and it was something rare that I never expected to happen. His name was Adrian and this is my story.

It was a Tuesday morning when the bus stopped on my driveway and I was not happy. Tuesdays meant speech therapy where the speech therapist would force me to perfect every flashcard she showed me while other kids were having fun in classes learning new things. Every time I did not speak something right, the therapist would grab my hand fiercly and place it on her throat. That would give me an idea of how I am supposed to say the word correctly. Every Tuesday. It would go on for what felt like hours. I hated every minute of it and did not understand why I had to learn something I was not eager to learn.

Years go by and I get used to the idea of having speech therapy. It isn't something I hated or loved. It was something I was taught to do even if I didn't want to. Another Tuesday comes and I was told I would be having a classmate that was just like me. Deaf and here in class with me. Beyond thrilled, I waited so patiently for the day that I would have a best friend by my side and go through things no one in my class could get.

A tiny boy walks in, looks tired but eager to be in class. I was supposed to wait till he sat down to introduce myself but before I even knew it, I got up and stood right in front of him.

Hands out. Ready to say my name.

"Hi! My name is Ashley. My sign name is A on the left side of the chest. Ashley. What is your name?"

Before I knew it, his eyes became brighter like he finally met someone like him.

"My name is Adrian. No sign name. Where you sit? Can I sit with you?"

He says in a calming matter that makes me feel excited. No matter what happens, we would face things together.

From that point forward, Tuesdays were exciting because speech therapy became fun. We would make fun of the speech therapist and try to make it signing therapy instead. Some Tuesdays, it would take all day to get through the flashcard of words because of Adrian and me. Life couldn't been better and I finally felt like my world was complete. Nothing could destroy me. Together with Adrian as my best friend, it was us against the world.

A couple months go by, teachers would still separate us from the whole class because of how loud we laugh when we talk in sign language. Our intepreters could never keep up with us because of the intimate language we use no one understood but us. Bus rides home, I would sit in front of Adrian and we would stare at our reflections on the window. Passing notes to each other right before we went home. Life was truly amazing and nothing could beat having my very first best friend by my side.

On a Tuesday morning, excited to go to school to see Adrian and have "sign therapy" with our speech therapist... The bus driver didn't pick him up. The seat behind me was empty. Worried but I still sit down and wonder what happened. Part of me wanted to believe that his parents might've dropped him off or he had something to do that day.

The next day came and the seat was still empty. Tuesdays came by and speech therapies got shorter as I did not have anyone to talk to. My life I thought was colorful started to slowly become gray. Asking everyone I knew what happened to Adrian, no one could give me an answer.

It wasn't until I............

If this blows up, I'll make a part 2 to this story.