Cars Turning Over to The Sun

Like being suffocated that’s one way I could describe my writing and reading experience. Imagine you are 10 years old in a small classroom separated from the peers in your class besides a teacher you have never met before. Her back was turned to me as I entered the small dim lit classroom, as she turned around I looked down.Yet, another person wasting their time on a screwed up case I thought.I heard footsteps against the concrete tile floors, I saw black checkered vans in my view of the ground.Then I saw a face in front of my eyes. . . this women had to be in her early twenties she had no wrinkles to go with her olive skin tone, soft green eyes, and long black curly hair.I saw the pity in her eyes and realized I was staring. . silly me I think yet another person to tell my grandparents what a misfortune I am.She brought up her small feminine hands to my face and said to me “I’m not one to give up. . I will push you until you hate me but I also want you to love what we are going to learn.” I looked at this women with disbelief I hope she will soon realized I am but a broken china doll that cannot be mended.Months before I had been in a car accident that put me in a coma of which that cause damage to my brain, ruined my speech, and everything else along with it. I remember the next time walking into her medium sized room I noticed a wooden castle in the center on the room with books lining the walls and posters everywhere.The classes I took prior was with older women who told me that “if you can not speak a full sentence without stuttering do not speak at all ,because you are wasting my time.” Taking this class was different from the other ones,the women encouraged me to speak to her. . .she wanted to listen to me which of course was strange.Why would she want to listen to what a 10 year old mute would want to say? At the time I had gotten close to recovering everything I lost prior to my accident but I still did not know how to read or write properly. After the accident , speaking was hard for me.It was so hard for me to say one syllable that it felt like the words would take my breath away.I felt like someone was twisting my lungs into a knot, even the energy I had wasted was not worth how I would feel. Most the time, I would stutter while trying to talk, it was like I could feels the words behind my little teeth but yet it was like setting a match to a flame.Once I tried to say one word it caused a abundant amount of chatters to push out of my mouth that sounded as if the lining of the building was clicking. Even writing was a struggle because my hands would hurt constantly due to trying to cushion myself against the window my head went into, as I looked at my writing it resembled ones of a first grader handwriting. I put down on the pieces of paper, time and time again I couldn’t concentrate on any words and become so frustrated with trying to read or write that I would cry every time thinking I was failing my grandparents and my teacher, Ms.Lacey. One day, Ms. Lacey came in with a whole bunch of CD’s and I tried to read the covers of each album. She took them away and told me to sit back and just listen. All the music that she would play was 90’s alternative rock such as, Nirvana, Stone temple pilots , Alice and chains and more. The first song she ever showed me was “Black Hole Sun” by stone temple pilots. I closed my eyes and truly listened to the music and fell in love, “In my eyes, indisposed / In disguises no one knows/Hides the face, lies the snake”. I instantly connected to the sound of his voice the guitars in the background and the lyrics. Because in my eyes, I was nothing more than a broken fool but yet I would disguise my sadness and anger with smiles and jokes. I hide my face with lies even though I knew I would be sinning because of religion, yet it was better than showing people how I felt.

“Stuttering, cold and damp / Steal the warm wind tired friend”, Every time I would come into her room, she would have the biggest smile on her face, instantly make me break out into a grin. She said, “Ashley, today is going to be great day. You will become even better than you already are sweetheart.” She would be playing one of those albums. Weeks went by and she would still play those CD’s, but one day it was different. Ms. Lacey told my grandparents and myself why she was doing this. She said ,“I saw a article about a young girl relearning how to talk through music it triggered her way of speak and altered her stuttering to beautifully full words.” I instantly wanted to be exactly like that girl and I knew I could. After awhile, she had me read the names of each album and the songs on it by singing. Weeks after, she had me sing along to the songs while they were playing. While I was singing, I started to realize I would not stutter what’s so ever. We were both astonished that she was right, it was working! Those nights I went home to my grandparents and showed them just that. I wouldn’t stutter or struggle when I would sing the words I strongly wanted to say. One day, Ms.Lacey came to me and said, “This week I would like to show you this book, I think you’ll love it.” On the cover, it had some dark greens and some light greens with a girl in the middle cover of the book with all vines and trees around her. She told a story about herself being alone one day where the world came to an end but she was the only one left. She was happy and she continued to grow as a person, yet, what I did not realize was she sounded similar to me. Every time I would read, I realized I would sing loudly sometimes and Ms.Lacey would join. She had such a beautiful voice, sometimes she would catch me stopping and just listening to her. Things became so great I realized how the singing made me feel compared to talking. Talking use to make me feel like I am suffocating, now when I sing, I feel the vibrating in my throat and the words just came so easily. I would sing to Ms. Lacey everyday asking if I would be normal again, if kids would stop bullying me about stuttering and singing, if teachers would stop getting so mad at me. She looked at me with so much adoration and said, “Ash, please listen to what i’m going to tell you. I want you to listen to what i’m trying to say.” I got closer and listened to her with anticipation, “ People will rate you, Hate you, and break you, but how strong you stand is what makes you.” I looked at her like she was crazy but now I realized what she was saying to me. After her inspiring words, my singing became humming which to myself I did not notice but every time I would look at Ms. Lacey she would have a big smile on her face. The humming shortly became whispering. I was so scared that these months were all for nothing and that I disappointed everyone around me. Then, one day, Ms.Lacey told me to look at her and speak. Just talk and no humming, no whispering and absolutely no singing. With that I said my first words. “People will rate you, hate you and break you. But how strong you stand is what makes you.” I started to cry, because I was normal, I didn’t fail anyone, not even myself, and finally did what I wanted to do. Speak… Never in a million years will I take anything for granted because losing something so important in my life. I became so happy and I realized who truly helped me, Miss. Lacey. Each class would start off with my favorite song ,“Black hole sun/Won’t you come/And wash away the rain”. Soon it became writing and I felt like I could do anything and I felt invincible. She would have me write the names of the men in the band while listening to a song from each album, then I turned into the songs. I would sing “ Black Hole Sun” while writing all the lyrics. Eventually she would have me write stories about my dreams and things I would want in life. The genre of this music would always seem to relate to myself, the tone of the music, the feelings it would give me. This genre of music was known for punks listening to the music or people who struggle and to me I felt that each person that’s listening to these lyrics as well has also gone through something life changing. The words would become longer and so would the sentences, everything seemed to fall right into place. Writing and reading showed me that I can express the way I feel and that I wasn’t weak. Before when I would hide behind a disguise it wasn’t needed when I could express how I felt by putting it on paper. All in all, this women had an impact on me by not only saving me from going down a bad path, but by putting my feelings on paper she saved me from a long road of self destruction. She will forever be my inspiration, thank you Ms. Lacey from saving me from the “Black Hole Sun. . Black hole sun/Won’t you come/And wash away the rain/Black hole sun/Won’t you come.”