• Tyler •
"Honey, wake up," my mom said, lightly shaking me awake. My eyes fluttered open to her soft voice. "First day in your new school." I could make out my mom's silhouette from the way she was positioned in front of my window, the sun shining in behind her.
Yes, I still had light and shadow perception. It's pretty common to be blind and still be able to perceive light and shadows. People always asked how I could tell someone was standing in front of the window. It got annoying, to be honest.
I groaned at the thought of starting over. Just when my old school was getting a little used to having a blind kid around, my family just had to move. Not saying that I loved my old school, I was bullied every day, but it was improving.
I slowly got out of bed and placed my feet on the cold tiled floor, sending a shiver up my spine. I could hear my mom make her way out of my room by the time I'd stood up. I felt around my side table and soon felt the familiar grip of my cane; my hand wrapped around it. I opened the collapsed tool with a click. Cane. That word made me feel like I was some pathetic old man with leg problems. Well, I guess I was pretty pathetic, just take out the part with the old man and the leg problems.
I usually never used my cane inside the house, but we had only moved two days ago, I needed it. Needed. I hated that word, too. I hated needing something or someone every waking moment of each day. I absolutely hated relying on my stupid cane, especially when I was at home.
I couldn't get a guide dog because they are way too expensive. Not that my family wasn't well off or anything, it's just that our family consisted of six people and that much money was too much for us to afford. I didn't mind, though. I understood that I wasn't the only one going through stuff.
I cautiously made my way over to my washroom and walked inside. I had already placed my toothbrush and toothpaste in order so it was fairly easy to
find where they were. After I was done, I quickly freshened up and walked over to my closet.
Everything in my closet was organized from colour to type of clothes, so it was a lot easier for me to pick out my outfits. My hands grazed different articles of clothing until I felt denim. I grabbed the jeans. I was guessing they were blue, all I had were ripped blue jeans.
I continued searching until I found my favourite grey hoodie. The only reason I liked it was purely for comfort. Colors; I don't really remember what they look like, to be honest, but I've heard what they're like.
I quickly pulled on my clothes, took my cane and carefully walked out of my room and down the hall. My room was on the bottom floor since it would have been too much of a hassle to climb stairs. Not that I couldn't do it. I was just too lazy. That had absolutely nothing to do with me not being able to see. Mostly.
"Look who's up!" My mom sang from the kitchen. I could hear feet shuffling and chairs being dragged as my siblings turned around to face me.
"Good morning," I mumbled, walking over to the table. The clicking of my cane against the wooden floor echoed throughout the room.
"Good morning, dumbass," the voice of my older brother—Lucas—called. I heard his footsteps approach me before I felt him ruffle my hair.
"Hey," I hissed, pushing his hand off my head. "Stop it!"
Lucas simply laughed that evil laugh of his before walking back to the dining table.
"Good morning, Ty," my older sister—Stacy—said, sounding a lot less enthusiastic than our brother had. Stacy and I were the closest in our family. She was the one who helped me through a lot of my rough patches. She was only a year older than me so we were always there for each other.
"Good mowing, Tywer," my baby sister—Nysa—called. She was four years old and just a big ball of energy. A happy accident, my mom called her.
Also, our last name's 'Blue'. Get over it.
I felt around for an empty chair then sat down. The new chairs, which had been bought when we moved in, were a lot more comfortable than our old ones. The new ones had a little pillow-like thing attached to it, making it a lot more comfy, whilst our old ones were just plain wood.
"Good morning to y'all too," I said, with not even a hint of enthusiasm. Did I mention that I was not looking forward to the first day of school?
"Someone's grumpy," the voice of my father sounded from across the hallway. I hummed in response as the smell of freshly made waffles and maple syrup invaded my nose. I heard my mom place a plate of in front of me and I immediately dug in. The taste of waffle melting in with the maple syrup was absolutely delicious.
"Oh my god, mom," I moaned, with syrup dripping down my chin. "This is so good."
"Why thank you," My mom said in a weird British accent. She walked over to me and lightly kissed me on the forehead, using her thumb to wipe the syrup that had dribbled down my chin. "Alright, come on, all of you, we need to leave."
Everybody at the table groaned in response except Nysa who simply giggled. See? A little ball of energy. I got up and quickly washed my mouth in the kitchen sink, which was conveniently right next to the table. On my way out I slipped on my shoes and pulled on my backpack.
The cold September wind stung my pale skin as I walked outside. I could feel my mom's hand slip into mine as she guided me into the car. Our car was pretty tall. When we first bought it, it was a huge struggle for me to get in. But at this point, I was used to it. Lucas sat shotgun next to my dad while Stacy and I sat in the back next to Nysa who sits in her car seat.
People always asked me whether I was jealous that my other siblings didn't have retinal pigmentosa and I did. I'll have to admit there are times where I do get that slight feeling of jealousy, but not that much. I used to be extremely mad at everyone when it first started, though. It wasn't because they didn't have it. It was mainly because I was cursing myself for having it and went on a downward spiral. I remember I refused to talk to anyone, except Stacy.
The car ride wasn't too long, but the sound of my brother's rock music exploding in the car made it feel like hours. By the time we reached the school a sudden feeling of nervousness washed over my body. I was scared. And feeling scared made me feel weak. I didn't want to feel weak or scared, but I couldn't help but think of all the possible worst-case scenarios. My mom told me that someone from the school had been assigned to help me get around and that made me feel even sicker. I had extreme social anxiety.
I felt Stacy's hands slip into mine and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. I guess I looked scared, too. Talk about pathetic. "Everything's gonna be okay," she whispered, pecking me lightly on the cheek. "I'll be right in the other block if you need me."
"Thank you, Stacy," I mumbled, smiling at her. I heard her exhale as we started walking. I was guessing she was leading me into school.
"Okay, here we are," she mumbled, patting me on my back. "You want me to walk in with you?"
"No," I said, shakily. Though the whole rest of my body was screaming "yes." I didn't want her to leave. "Go to your block. I'll be fine." No, I won't.
I heard her footsteps fade behind me. Shit. I bit my lip so hard that I think it started to bleed. My heart started to pound and my hands started shaking. No, I cannot be getting a panic attack now. No, no, no, no, no. Please. No. Breathe. Breathe, Tyler. Breathe.
"Hey, are you okay?" Someone asked, placing an arm on my shoulder. I flinched and immediately turned to face whoever it was. "Are you Tyler?"
"Yes," I stuttered, gulping nervously. "Who are you?"
"My name's Iris," she said, her voice sounded almost peppy. I had a feeling she was a cheerleader or something. Her accent was almost Australian, but I could tell that it was fading. She had probably moved from Australia to here, in New Jersey. "I was assigned to help you get around."
"Huh, ironic isn't it?" I asked, bitterly. Bitter. I was bitter a lot. It's kinda my thing. That, and figuring out accents. "Iris is helping the blind kid."
"Oh, right," she said, chuckling nervously. I made her uncomfortable. I thought about apologizing. I didn't want her to be mad at me. She was nice. Nice people aren't commodities.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," I mumbled, shifting my gaze to the ground. My fingers gripped my cane a little tighter.
"It's okay. Can I, um, hold your hand to, you know, help you inside?" She asked in a small voice. I was glad she asked. I hated when people would just grab me thinking that I might need help when in reality I'm doing perfectly fine. But right now I did need help. So I nodded and her fingers entwined with mine. Her fingers were warm. They felt homey. She had long nails though. I could feel them grazing my skin.
She pushed open the school door and guided me in. The loud chatters in the hallway immediately died down. I could feel the intense gaze of everyone's eyes on me. I didn't like it. I didn't like people looking at me. Even though I might not have been able to see it, I could still feel the judgment and pity in their looks. I wanted to just melt into a puddle right then and there. Just disappear.
"It's gonna be okay," Iris whispered, holding my hand a little tighter.
• • •
What do y'all think about Iris?
-Anya