burden

Laying on the couch had become Darrens new favorite hobby. He could sit and lounge for hours and hours, never lifting a single finger and feel quite good about himself at the end of the day. He didn’t watch TV, or over eat junk food. He just simply sat or laid depending on his mood. He just stared out the window in his room. It was a nice big square shaped window, with cream trim surrounding it. If he concentrated hard enough he could pretend that he was in the outside world. Running amongst the creek that flowed slowly into the rolling hills.

 That he was free from his white walled home and his twin size bed. Sometimes he would sing the ABC’s. Forwards, backward. He normally never got the sounds right. He had never heard them but had watched his teachers mouth the words to him over and over, their faces looking angry as they started to get frustrated. He wasn’t supposed to be the way he was, and he knew that, but it didn’t take away the pain he felt when people automatically didn’t like him because he was a defect. 

It was 2134, almost all burdens to the human body had been cured. No one really got sick anymore, or got cancer. Everyone had 20/20 vision and could walk. Everyone could hear. But Darren.

His parents thought he was just stupid for the first few years of his life. He figured it was the denial setting in. That they had a defective child and that would make them somehow defective as well. 

When they had finally taken him to the doctor he had been about five. 

He remembered the way that his mother had cried and his dad just stared at him with those dark almost black eyes. He might not have been able to hear but their reactions said a thousand words. They had gone home that evening and had dinner. In silence as usual. His parents didn’t even talk amongst themselves. After dinner he went up to his room and cried.

Darren couldn’t remember a time he had cried so hard and for so long. He felt as if he didn’t belong and deep down he knew that he didn’t. School years went by and they were tragic. Bullies, teachers, school lunch ladies all were upset when he showed them the card the school had given him.

DARREN PARCHERT (BURDEN)

DEAF: CANNOT HEAR SOUNDS

PLEASE USE SIGN LANGUAGE OR WRITTEN WORD

They always rolled their eyes and wrote down what they wanted to say. Sign language wasn’t a thing anymore. Very few people even knew what the word meant. Darren on the other hand had a therapist later show him a website that could teach him, so that if he ever encountered someone else that knew it they could talk.

“Or you could teach your parents…” the therapist had said looking at him sadly through her wide rimmed glasses.

They both knew there was no chance. 

Darren had tried once when he had first started to go to therapy (the government insisted he go because after all he was a “burden” as they called people like him) When his therapist, Lynn, had first suggested teaching his family sign, he had rushed home excited. He would finally be able to talk to his parents! 

They had just stared at him and talked amongst themselves. Their mouths moving too fast for him to read their lips. His father had then looked at him and shook his head. His mother had written on a sheet of paper one simple word that had crushed him “no.” he never brought it up again. But since that day he had practiced every day until he was convinced he was almost fluent. Years had passed before his parents just totally gave up. He remembered the day perfectly. 

He had been signing to Lynn (she was fluent) and they were talking about his dreams. 

“Darren, what do you want to do with your life?” 

Her hands always moved so smoothly, mesmerizing him. He had thought about it for a few minutes before signing back

 “Live”

She had smiled and told him that was a good goal. They had been talking about how school was going when they came in. The two men who were as tall as skyscrapers compared to 12 year old Darren. He had watched as his therapist had stood up and started to shout, or at least he thought, he had never seen her eyebrows point down so intensely before and red had begun creeping up  her cheeks. With no warning the men had hauled Darren up and put him in a car. 

Before they shoved him in he caught a glimpse of the words written on the side of the car, “Chandlers Hospital for Burdens”

He was being sent away. The next few years of his life droned on. His parents came to see him once every three months. Sitting across from him and normally saying nothing. He knew they didn’t want to come but the hospital made it mandatory for patients under 18, after that he never saw them again.

He spent most of his days laying on his couch staring at the window. He had requested for the couch after explaining that he didn’t like interacting with the other patients. Which wasn’t a lie, no one knew sign language and everyone else seemed actually a burden. With real mental issues he hadn’t even learned about in school. To be honest they scared him. 

Thankfully he had everything he needed in his room, including his window. He was 22 now. And not a day had gone by that he hadn’t thought of his therapist Lynn, the only nice person to him. He had written her some letters and to his dismay she just had never written back.

So day in and day out Darren sat and he stared at his window wishing for a better life. His hands are always moving, signing one phrase over and over “live”.

***

authors note:

I wrote this on a whim, I think during a bank shift in college -- I had just finished 1984 and The Handmaids Tale and was intrigued by the dystopian feeling of it all. Something short and sweet, a little character exercise to fight off the boredom of being a teller.