Chapter 4 : 17 Years Old [ "I can't even sing anymore . . ." VII ]

A Speech Disorder

I'm having difficulty pronouncing the ma, wa and ba columns of the kana syllabary, and also the syllable n. During the chemistry class, I was called on to reply. I knew the answer was mainasu (minus) but I couldn't pronounce it. My mouth can form the correct shape, but I can't utter a sound. Only air comes out. That's why I can't make my self understood.

These days, I often talk to myself. Up to now, I didn't like doing that because I thought it made me sound stupid, but I think I'll try more now. It's good for practice for my mouth. Whether there's anyone else there or not, I'm speaking . . .

I thought of running as a candidate for the position of Secretary of the Student Council. I entered the same race when I was in the fifth grade at elementary school. There'll be a public debate between the candidates, so I must do some speech training. Ah, there are so many things to do, including training and studying. I'm up to my neck in it. Good grief!

I remember having a big fight with one of my classmates during those elementary school days. One day, I went for a walk to the square with my dog Kuma. My classmate was there with her elder brother and their dog. The fight started because she set her dog on Kuma.
"Why did you do that?" I asked her.
"Because my brother told me to do it," she replied.
I got really mad and said, "So would you commit murder without a second thought if your brother told you to do it? He isn't always right, is he?" (It's the kind of logic I learned from Mom.)

But she wouldn't stop her dog. Then a big fight between us humans broke out. It was so fierce! It was so intense! I didn't stop even when my head was pushed into a ditch. My younger brother and sister backed me up.

Yes, with such power and such a sense of justice, Aya should definitely run for a position on the Student Council.

My speech disorder is becoming more conspicuous. When it comes to conversation, both parties now need lots of time and patience. I can't say, "Er, excuse me . . ." while trying to pass someone. I can't have a proper conversation unless both the person I'm trying to talk to and I prepare ourselves for listening and talking. I can't even express moments of pleasure by saying things like "The sky is beautiful. The clouds look like ice cream."
I get very frustrated.
I get annoyed.
I feel miserable.
I feel sad.
And, in the end, tears fall from my eyes.