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I hear your words
in ways you'd never know.
Kindness is innate.
Your cruelty is learned.

Maëlle smiled over her weekend cup of milk and tea, freely conversing with the woman across from her. They talked about mundane things, gossip, friends… the usual over hot beverages and light pastries. Except their conversation warranted… a bit more attention than most. After all, most conversations weren’t silent.

Maëlle and her friend were deaf and a part of the deaf community in London. There was an outreach centre that Maëlle almost immediately immersed herself into. British Sign Language sharply contrasted American Sign Language, but being fully immersed at one of the deaf centres allowed her to rapidly pick up the language and have a firm grip on it after her fifth month of life in England. She met regularly with some of her deaf friends, relishing in the fact that she felt most at home when signing and not orally speaking.

Hearing people could be so ignorant and pigheaded at times. They were insensitive and had closed minds, always insistent that deaf individuals were damaged or flawed in some way. Maëlle was not disabled by any means. She could function perfectly fine in society, and when people inquired about devices such as cochlear implants, she couldn’t help but view them a little less. They were generally good people, but they weren’t educated enough to inform her of what she should or shouldn’t do, and it was a regular conversational piece that came up between her and her friend. Maëlle decided years ago that she wasn’t interested in cochlear implants (especially when the risks of the surgery were involved), and she instead just wore hearing aids to provide a bit of background noise, though she couldn’t make out most if not all specific sounds.

‘The government medical coverage offered to help fund the surgery, but I told them I wasn’t interested.’

‘Didn’t they ask you about it when you moved here?’

‘Yes, and they are bringing it up again because I was attacked.’

‘That’s stupid! That wasn’t due to your deafness! That was your own stupidity.’

Maëlle cast her a flat look, to which the other replied with a cheeky grin.

‘Thanks. I appreciate your insight.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Maëlle smiled, shaking her head slightly as she sipped her tea. That was when she noticed some movement in the corner of her eye.

There was a small group of younger people situated around a table. Maëlle could see them glancing towards her, making funny gestures with degrading words like (Maëlle could easily lipread from this distance) ‘retard’ and ‘dumb,’ and even ‘don’t worry, it’s not like they can hear us.’

The blond furrowed her brow, ignoring their jibes as she sipped her tea and simply signed, ‘Hearing people… Rude,’ to her friend. She nodded, beginning to pack up her purse.

That was when Maëlle saw him sauntering up, but she purposefully ignored him until a hand was stuck in front of her face, causing her to slide her eyes up to his with the most disinterested look she could cast.

“I can wave my hands around to talk too!” his lips read blatantly as he flailed around mockingly. Maëlle resisted taking the bait, instead opting to smile and sign the word ‘Ass’ to her friend, who grinned.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say, or can we enjoy our tea?”

His eyebrows went up before he smiled and protruded his middle finger to Maëlle’s face.

“Look I’m signing!” he declared, and Maëlle pushed his hand away bitterly. She simply turned back to her tea, pinching her lips together as she stared down at it, feeling the eyes of the people in the café. Her friend reached forward and tapped her hand, telling her that she had an appointment to make and had to go, and that Maëlle should go too.

The blond sighed, shaking her head and wishing the other a good appointment before she left. Maëlle wanted to finish her tea, but she found the beverage less than enjoyable at this point, and her mood soured by the unfortunate individuals she had come across during her stay in London.

I will not bend.
i will not break.
i'll show you.
i'll show you.

Maëlle leaned backwards as she pressed the save command, sealing the transcript conversation that she had spent the past two days deciphering. There were cameras stationed outside a seedy pub that recorded a long conversation between a suspected criminal and a potential gang member, but Maëlle had to switch viewpoints many times as the two shifted repeatedly as they socialized. A yawn threatened her lips and she patted her mouth with her palm, giving her arms and back a long stretch. Her eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall before they practically popped from her eye sockets.

It was 11:38 pm.

Wide violet eyes and clumsy tired fingers scrambled to pull out a bus schedule. When she did fumble the paper into her hands, she grimaced. The last bus departed well over an hour ago. Maëlle sighed as she tucked the paper into her purse.

She could try to signal a cab? Except… cabs didn’t drive down this street at this time, and calling one on a cellphone was not an option for her. She quickly packed up her purse and took her coat, silently moving to the elevator. Save for her desk, the entire office section was dark and she hadn’t noticed the time slipping away. Normally Maëlle worked late, but this was exceptionally bad, even for her.

Maëlle punched her card out once she hit the main floor and headed for the main desk, but the guard on duty wasn’t present. Maëlle’s heart sunk a bit; she had hoped to ask him to use the telephone for her. She sighed and wondered if he was in the bathroom or something.

Maëlle waited there for ten minutes before staring out onto the darkened street.

Truth be told, her apartment was only a 30 minute walk from the government building if she cut through a few alleyways. If she took the long way, it was over an hour. Maëlle glanced back to the vacant security desk, then back outside. Although the Government area had police presence, she knew some of the alleys did not. However, a walk on the street past midnight on prosthetic legs didn’t seem pleasant, plus her stumps were aching due to the storm that was moving in. If she hurried, she could get home before the rain.

Maëlle glanced back at the desk one last time before swiping her card to unlock the door. Firmly tucking her purse against her side, she set out on her night commute down the quiet street.

Maëlle could feel a dull ache in her stumps, enough that it was irritating but not debilitating. She grimaced slightly, stopping to give her knees a quick rub. She debating turning around and trying to find a main street with a cab, but it was hard for her to pick up a cab on the street and speak to a driver in the darkness. She tugged at her pant leg, adjusting the professional attire before continuing on.

Directions were something that Maëlle could handle. She knew what direction she needed to go in and how far to walk on each street from looking at a map when she first came to London. Sure, the city was different from the other large towns she had been in, but fundamentally they were all the same; streets, alleys, and rows upon rows of buildings. She needed to head northeast, and she could zigzag from alley to street to alley to cut across the buildings. There was only a few problems with her grand plan that she realized as she started down the first alley.

There were no alleyway streetlights like Ottawa.

Maëlle was almost entirely a sight-based individual. Touch was important to her, but more so with people and surfaces that responded to pressure, like wooden floors. Concrete sidewalks and backlanes were nearly impossible for her unless there was construction of some sort or a natural disaster that shook the ground. Being in low lit conditions was terrible alarming for her and after getting half way down the alley, she decided against her original plan and would head for a convenience store on the main roads. Streetlights or not, she didn’t want to walk anymore and would pay for a cab.

That was when Maëlle first noticed them; a group of people loitering in the alley entrance that she had passed through a minute or so before. It wasn’t clear to her if they had called out to her or not, but she was certainly noticed by them as they began to follow. The dark light masked most, if not all of their features, but a bad feeling crept into Maëlle’s stomach as she turned back to continue down the alley. Considering the dim light and safety of the neighbourhood, she had no intention of waltzing up to anyone, nevertheless strangers that lurked in alleyways.

Maëlle glanced back over her shoulder not-so-inconspicuously a few moments later, feeling a knife of panic plunge in her stomach because the individuals (she saw four) were not only following her, but they were closing whatever distance there had been between them when she first saw them. Her first instinct was to run. She was scared, and panic was making her throat tight as she clutched onto her bag. She didn’t carry mace; Maëlle didn’t really believe in violence or threats to carry around. She had a cloth purse, her day planner, wallet, and an archaic phone that barely managed basic texting, along with makeup, lipbalm, and a few other random items like receipts and loose change. Maëlle quickened her pace, but the deep cracks in the uneven pavement promised difficulties. She looked back to see the group, four males from what she could tell, about 10 feet from her. She froze.

She needed to yell, scream, or call for help. Anything. Something instead of stepping back like a frightened animal caught in the headlights. Light filtered in from the street, which was not far in theory, but there was no way Maëlle could sprint, and no guarantee it was any better than the alley.

Oh god.

“I said, where are you going?”

Maëlle finally locked eyes with one, and it took her a few seconds to fully put together what he had said. She took a step back, feeling her heartbeat throbbing in her chest and her palms slick with sweat. She needed to lie. She blinked a few times before she spoke.

“Tue my boyfriendsh.”

Maëlle knew she must have lied unconvincingly or said the words with some auditory hiccup because two of them were laughing and one had stepped towards the street, cutting her only escape off. Maëlle retreated back until she could feel her shoulders brushing the brickwork adorning the wall.

“Is that so?” Maëlle watched the one speaking exchange glances with the male on his left. They were smiling in a way that made Maëlle push back further against the wall.

“I’m sure your boyfriend…” There was an emphasis on the word as his lips quirked slowly. “…Won’t mind if you’re a little late.”

To this, Maëlle quickly shook her head back and forth. “No I haf to go, sorry!” Dammit, she said that too quickly and too loudly to be taken seriously. Another round of smiles. One raised their hand and Maëlle flinched when one of them brushed her hair back behind her ear.

Lips moved but Maëlle was too distraught to read them as the hand slipped from her face to her blouse, undoing the first button. That was when she began to shout incoherently for them to stop. She tried to twist away, but her arms were wrenched back and pinned to the wall. They were far stronger than she was and she couldn’t pull away.

Oh god.