Voice Memo
Vo ice Memo
Gabby Tate
12 months, 1 day after the accident
August went surfing without me again.
I know it’s probably not fair of me to be so angry about this, but I am angry. First of all, August knows how much I miss surfing, and second of all, the doctor never said I shouldn’t surf, he just said it might not be the best thing for me considering my ears. It’s the same reason he wants me to wait on my driver’s permit. But you know what? I’m tired of considering my ears. Sometimes it feels like my ears are the only thing anybody wants to consider about me anymore. Except for Tyler.
How is it my deaf friend is the one person in my life who treats me like there’s nothing wrong with me?
Okay, fine. None of this is the real reason I’m so angry with August.
The online grief therapist Aunt Judy set me up with suggested I try to talk to my brother again about the events I remember about the accident, and since yesterday was the one-year anniversary of their deaths, I figured a little hope might do us both some good. But every time I even hint at what happened to me after the crash, August finds a way to change the subject. He must think I’m too dumb to notice when he does this, but I notice a whole lot more than he realizes. Tyler says observation can be a superpower. I think he’s right.
Finally, I straight up asked August why he always changes the subject whenever I talk about the day of the accident. And you know what he said? He said it’s because he doesn’t want to encourage my belief in something that never happened. Something he calls “a figment of my imagination.”
I was so furious I went to bed without dinner.