Blind Love

Blind Love I

MORGAN POV

I jolted awake, fear clutching my stomach and the sound of screams ringing in my ears. There were large beads of sweat rolling down my face and the gears in my brain were spinning at top speed. I pried the sweat-soaked sheet off of my body and sighed, as I did every day, at the stubs that were what was left of my legs. I swung my body upright and opened the wheelchair that was resting against my bedside table. I awkwardly placed myself in the chair and then rolled across the hardwood flooring of my bedroom into the kitchen.

"Good morning sweetums!" cooed my mother, her voice dripping with so much enthusiasum it made me want to hurl. I loved my mother, but ever since the accident, she acted like I was three years old. "What do you want for breakfast this morning?"

I wheeled over to my spot at the table, the one made especially for my wheelchair. "Just cereal," I said as my eyes scanned the room for the television remote. Television was one of the few things that helped take my mind off of my legs. Spotting the remote, I carefully directed myself across the room and up to the granite countertops. My mother lived in a mansion-like bungalow, which she had recently covered in hardwood flooring as opposed to the fluffy, luxiurious carpet that she had loved so much.

I rolled back to the custom table and turned on the TV. I flipped through the channels, which were plaguec with pointless drama, news reports, strange kids shows and all the crappy television that you find nowadays. I eventually give up and watch a documentary on the evolution of weeds.

*

School is a pain. Between avoiding outstreached legs and not bumping into the people that crowd the halls, I have a lot to focus on. Add in some angry glares and mumbled insults, school is a living hell. I wheel carefully to second-period Algebra, winding past the groups of kids that swarm around lockers and classrooms. When I finally escape the craziness of the hallway, I roll over to my assigned spot, with a desk that extends out of the wall. I open my notebook and start to scribble out the lyrics to my favourite song.

When I die
Will you catch me
When I leave
Will you cry

I become so engrossed in remembering the song lyrics that I don't notice class has started until I hear the door creak open. I lift my eyes just in time to see a lithe figure walk through the door. She stands awkwardly in the doorway as Ms. Carter continues to ramble on, unaware. The girl clears her throat and Ms. Carter turns abrupty away from her lesson, clearly annoyed.
When her gaze sweeps over the obviously embarassed girl, her annoyed expression turns to one of shock.
"Dylan! I didn't realise you were here!" she purred. Dylan smiled meekly, her thin brown hair shimmered around her shoulders as Ms. Carter led her towards her desk. Dylan reacher her arms out as she wobbled after the teacher. She sat quietly next to me and focused on the front of the class. I glanced over at her, taking in her entire image. She wasn't nessecarily pretty, but something about her was very alluring. I passed the next hour staring at the magnificent work of art beside me.