• CHAPTER ONE::::: HER

    I ran my hand through my hair-- something I've noticed has become a habit since Grey was in that damned accident. I've picked up quite a few of these mannerisms lately. Like biting my nails, or drumming my fingers.

    Or crying myself to sleep.

    I try not to care for him. Oh, of course I'll help him and all that jazz-- just as I would for anyone else in his situation. But I don't want to be the one who looks into his blank eyes and sees all his past dreams and aspirations, the ones that'll probably never come true now no matter how hard he works. I don't want to. But I have to.

    That's just how love is.

    I glance in his room. It's been cleaned up since he came home from the hospital. Mom's hasn't, though. Dad didn't have the heart to take even a step in there. I tell him it's going to hurt his back, but he decides to sleep on the couch now anyways.

    Besides, she wouldn't be here to know, regardless.

    He's trying to learn Braille again. He's not even sad about it, either, and that's what really gets me. That's just the type of person Grey is; always happy and optimistic when there's absolutely no good that could ever come out of the situation. You know, there needs to be more people like him in this world. It'd be a much better place. A happier, joyful, giving place.

    I think about everything that's happened since that day, and doubt that even if there were millions of Greys walking around that it'd ever be like that.

    "Is there something you want?" His voice is soft, concentrated-- startling me, as I thought naively that he couldn't ever sense anything, even if he were blind.

    He smiles and motions for me to come in without turning from his book. I wonder if perhaps that doesn't matter anymore.

    "I'm sorry," I say, somewhat embarrassed, but not quite, because I know he'll never think anything of it, "How can you tell I'm here?"

    "Your breath is loud, especially when you're nervous or scared or something," He's nodding, agreeing with himself. I've noticed that, too. I think I might be in a bit of a mess if I ever have to hide from anyone.

    "And besides, you're my sister. My only sister. I'd probably know if you were there even if I were deaf, too." He tells me lightly, and I shake my head.

    He's a year younger than me, but Grey's always been the older brother. And he has always put me in top priority, as well as the family. He watched over us. He took care of us.

    It's hard to see him look so helpless when he's always been the strongest of us all.

    "How far have you gotten?" I ask quietly. He's been running his fingers over an alphabet chart for the past week, but I don't see it anywhere on the desk.

    "Numbers and letters, check." He grins. "Maybe I'll show off a bit tomorrow, and read a book or something."

    "I bought a few books for you on the way home. Do you want to look at them?"

    It was really hard to find a place that sold them-- it must've taken three hours before I found a decent store. I decided he should start on the easy side, since he really had only been studying it for a month or so after all. How long would it take to master? I wasn't sure. Probably years. Grey was a great reader, and writer too-- the best in his class. Or, used to be, I suppose.

    No, I shouldn't think about that. Because this is life now. And if I start to reminisce too much it'll make me cry.

    Again.

    "Really? Aw, Lee. You didn't have to. And I was wondering why you took so long getting home!" He bursts, excited-like. But there's a break in the moment, and his face falls abruptly.

    "Don't look like that. I hate it when you look like that. Smile, will you? You know, right now..." He drifts, reaching for me but missing largely, and I take his hand and hold it like a lifeline.

    "The world may seem like it's out to get us. But just wait. Everything'll change. Dad and you and I can all live together, and we'll graduate and get great careers. Someday we'll be so happy that we won't even remember what it was like now. And mom... Will be watching us, proudly. There's no way she'll be anywhere other than Heaven, right?" He says, and even though I've never been religious I agree whole-heartedly to his words.

    I want to hug him. But I realize that I'm not the one who should be weak, after all. Nothing happened to me. I shouldn't depend on Grey anymore. Grey should be depending on me.

    But then he hugs me. I don't know if he's hugging me because he needs me, too, or if he just knows that's what I wanted. Probably the latter.

    "I'm going out, okay? Dad's here. I need to go to the grocery to cook supper tonight. I'll be home in a bit, alright?"

    Alright?

    I don't want to leave him here, but Dad's in the other room after all, even if he is busy.

    "Don't worry about it. And come home when you want to, not any earlier or later. I've been able to get around easily lately, anyways. With the help of the cane, too, of course." He says enthusiastically, holding in his hand the white stick I bought him at a novelty shop in a town a bit away.

    "Be careful, anyways." I tell him, pausing longly before I headed off down town. The produce center wasn't a very long ways away so I usually walked, and today was a particularly nice day, besides.

    Sun. Would he ever have the chance to see it again?

    Of course, I think. But that's pure comfort.

    The street's busy. Six-- It's rush hour by now.

    The orange hand across the road is flashing, and the cars begin to slow. I wonder how anyone could ever get along in this world without that sense. Because, here, at least, that’s what everything’s made of. Appearances.

    When I arrive on the other side, I see two things: One, the produce store, and two—the man. That man. I don’t know his name, and I don’t know why I notice him.

    But I think it has something to do with those sunglasses. And perhaps that cane he’s always carrying around.

    He’s sitting on this bench that says ‘Johnson&Reagan, The Best Lawyers!’, with his head tilted slightly, looking as if he were sleeping. Or maybe just pretending to sleep. I see this guy every day, and sometimes I wonder if he’s homeless.

    Suddenly I have this strange urge to talk to him, and I’m stuck between the produce store and this. So I stand there, sort of pacing, and I begin to get a little nervous. Because I’m not good with people. Grey is, though; he was probably one of the most popular kids in school before the accident. He still is, of course, but people tend to back off a bit now, because the only conversation that ever comes up is ‘how it happened’, or ‘if he’s really blind’, and even if they’re not scared of the look I give them, they’ll realize it’s not their place to pry. Usually.

    “What the hell? Do you want something, miss?” A voice says, and I recognize it, because I’ve noticed he tends to be a fairly outspoken guy.

    I want to ask how he knows I’m a miss, or if he even knows at all, but I know it’s not the time.

    “Hello, sir! Really I was just wanting to meet you. How are you today?” I’m saying quickly, and sounding a bit more cheerfully than I actually am. Because I can’t help it when I’m with him.

    “I don’t even like cookies. Go sell them somewhere else.”

    He walks toward the street, which is flowing with speeding vehicles again, and curses under his breath as he presses the silver button on the side of the street-light to get across. I’m standing there for a moment, unsure of what to say, and I pause for so long he thinks I’ve left.

    “You really don’t like cookies?” I ask, happily, as he sighs dramatically “Not even chocolate chip? What about sugar, or peanut-butter?

    The hand’s white. I guess he’s trying to ignore me now, or something, because he practically runs across the street.

    But I can run, too.

    “Hey, do you need help?” I say before I can help it, because I couldn’t imagine Grey crossing the street alone in years. But he’s even more pissed off now, and I have no idea what to do. So I decide to follow. I tell myself the mart is on the way, anyhow.

    “Hey, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’d better get out of here. Right now, little girl. And that’s a damned threat!” His voice is fierce. I don’t say anything, but I try to quiet my steps.

    He stops at this bar, and I watch as he finds his way around almost routinely. I tilt my head, and as I do so, I remember that Grey’s waiting at home, after all, and that he’s going to be waiting for dinner all night if I don’t go home soon.

    “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!”

    There’s this weird feeling I have now, like maybe it’s the beginning of something great.

    I don't know what it is, or even if it's real or not.

    But I sure as hell am going to find out.