He cried out hoping someone, anyone would understand him. Sadly, no one did. He threw himself to the floor, frustrated and confused. He asked himself, “Why can’t they hear me? I’m crying out so loud to them.” He pleaded, “Please someone, anyone, listen to me!” Still, no one understood. It seemed that everyone around him spoke a different language.
He was a little boy then. It had only been three years since he had first set his eyes on the world, but already it had seemed like a lifetime. He discovered right away that the world was a very complicated place. All around him were sounds and blinking lights and objects that would unexpectedly move. The people were complicated too. They gave him odd looks and did strange things, seemingly for no rhyme or reason.
There was a certain woman who was the strangest of them all. No matter where the boy went, the woman was always there. She also gave odd looks and made strange curves with her mouth. Sometimes the curves went up and sometimes down. Occasionally he saw water come from her face. This however, he found to be very amusing. He would laugh and reach for the water. The woman on the other hand, didn’t seem to appreciate his laughter much during those times. She would often get up and exit the room, leaving him there alone to carry on with his laughter.
As he got older, this woman would take him to a place that had swings and slides. Although these were neat to look at, he preferred digging in the dirt. He would sit there and watch as other boys and girls ran around, jumped on things and chased each other. Every now and then, one of them would run over and ask him to play. He would kindly look up at them and then immediately back down at the dirt. As he picked at the ground, he would ponder the meaning of the child’s request. After a short time passed he would look up, only to find that the child was already gone.
He didn’t have any friends. The people his size spoke the same language as everyone else around him. Therefore, they too could not understand him. He had so many questions and so much to say, but no one to talk to. Even though there were people with him daily, he felt alone.
Dealing with this every day soon became more than he could handle. At age 5, he began acting out by tearing things apart. He would rip off wallpaper, pull up carpeting and peel the paint off the walls. Some days he would just scream and kick, trying to relieve even a little of his frustration.
The last thing he wanted was for anyone to touch him. The strange woman would try to hold him, but he would quickly squirm away. Each time he made his escape, he would look up to see that water was once again coming from the woman’s face. However, by then he had learned not to laugh anymore. Instead, he would just stare at her in bewilderment.
She constantly told him “I love you”, but he had no idea what that meant. This strange woman didn’t even have a name. No one did, except him.
This is my son. This is his story.
You can read Part 2 here.