three senses

yet another book piece…

One day you just suddenly know. There isn’t anyone to teach you the way how the story books show. You choose to be aware, or wait the next turn. Anyone awake and over the age of thirteen will tell you this.

Some other people will tell you too.

I was near my favorite place in the woods. The place with a fifty foot waterfall and mossy rocks to run your bare toes along. That’s when the clouds opened and the warm rain fell. I didn’t notice the temperature that much though. But I remember being fascinated by the downpour without a single cloud in the sky.

I asked my parents and my younger brother about it afterwards. None of them noticed. That was one of the first clues.

And then I started developing the phobias.

Fire was the first. Pyrophobia. There was a bonfire at school. I wanted to go because Anthony was going to be there and I have always like Anthony. But when Mom and Dad pulled into the parking lot, I slammed myself against the back window so hard at the distant sight of flame – the glass cracked.

When I was fifteen the second fear set in. Phonophobia. That’s when my ears first started to open, and I could really make sense of the fire.

I’m told there are three phobias to overcome before the next phase. It doesn’t sound like much, if you ask me. I’m sixteen years old, if by learning to live with the fear of fire and noise means I get to understand everything else, whatever.

Still, sometimes I’m scared of even the sound of my own voice.

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