Voice Memo
Gabby Tate
2 months, 3 weeks, 4 days after the accident
Hello?
I guess it’s strange to say hello to myself. I’ve never done this before. Obviously. Weird, it really is dictating everything I say just like the nurse said it would. And wow, it’s adding punctuation, too? Okay, so I guess this is a pretty cool app. Anyway, I don’t really know what all I’m supposed to be recording. She said I should treat these memos like a diary since I can’t write anything down with my arm still in a sling.
Still, this is really awkward.
Maybe I’ll just give an update. Um. I still can’t hear anything at all with my right ear and only random lower pitches in my left. The sound kind of makes me feel sick sometimes, like I’m on one of those teeter-totters Dad and I used to play on in the summers at the park around the corner.
It’s weird to talk about him like he’s not here. I wonder if it ever won’t be weird.
August moved into our house. His stuff was here when I came home from the rehab place with Aunt Judy. He’s been sleeping in the room across the hall from mine. It was his bedroom a long time ago, when I was like ... um ... seven or eight, maybe? But it’s been Mom’s study ever since, even though I never saw her studying much of anything in there except for her Bible. We used to laugh about how that room was mostly used to collect items that didn’t belong anywhere else in the house. I hope August doesn’t feel that way about it now, but even if he did, I’m sure he wouldn’t tell me.
It’s strange how you can live in the same house with someone and not r eally know them. I feel like it’s that way with my brother. I always thought he was so cool when I was young. I loved seeing him on holidays and on our family vacations, but I don’t remember the everyday version of him anymore. I don’t know the food he likes or the movies he watches or how he likes to spend his free time, other than at the beach surfing, which he hasn’t done yet even though I told him he doesn’t have to babysit me. I’m now fourteen and a half. Mom and Dad let me stay on my own all the time.
I tried to talk to him again the other night about what happened when I woke up after the accident. But every time I try, it’s like he disappears somewhere inside his head. I know I’m the one with all the ear trouble right now, but I swear it’s like he can’t hear me when I talk about this.
I overheard him discussing something with Aunt Judy three nights ago. Maybe not overheard as much as spied on them. There are certain words I can pick up, and body language is pretty easy to read when you start paying attention. He looked upset when he said my name, and I watched two deep creases form between my aunt’s eyebrows. They went back and forth for a long time until August finally turned away and Aunt Judy cried. I hate that I’m the reason they’re both so upset. I wish Mom were here to fix it. She always knew what to say.
I don’t know how to end this thing, so I guess that’s it for today.