Eyes - Jalex

Credit to xxninny435xx on Live Journal

When Jack was 13 years old, he got into a car crash that would take away his sight. His mother had been scolding him for being such a distraction while she was driving. She took her eyes off the road for 4 seconds.

4 seconds, and they were hit. 4 seconds, and the veil fell over Jack's eyes. 4 seconds, and Jack couldn't see the sun.

In Jack's opinion, losing one's sight was much worse than being born without sight. Because he had seen a sunset and the ocean and snow and his mother's smile and the sky. He had seen the color blue and pink and orange and gray and purple. He had seen Baltimore and Florida and New York and Myrtle Beach. While some people would say that that was a plus side, that he was lucky to have seen those things in the first place, he thought it was the worst thing about it.

Because people who were born blind had nothing to miss. They never had it in the first place. Sure, they could yearn for it, they could so desperately wish for it, but they didn't have to miss it. They didn't have to go through the slow torture of beginning to forget your mother's face or the color of your father's hair. They didn't have to wonder if the sky had changed since the last time they saw it. They didn't have to try and imagine what their best friend would look like several years since they last saw them.

13 years of sight gave Jack a lot to miss.

When he was 15, he ended up switching schools. For the first year of high school, his mother had put him in a private school specifically for kids like him - kids who couldn't see or hear or speak. But Jack hated it there - everything always felt sad and everyone was always coddling him like he couldn't take care of himself. They treated him like a child, like being blind was somehow making him stupid or dependent on someone else.

He could take care of himself, god damn it. He didn't need his mother to help him get dressed (though she did pick out his clothes; after wearing clothes that didn't match for a week, he finally let her help him in that sense). He could wipe his own ass, could brush his own teeth, could walk down the stairs, could lock a door, could make himself something to eat. He wasn't helpless and he didn't like being treated like he was.

So, she switched him to a public school. She was nervous and worried and fretted over him constantly on the first morning, reminding him several times to call her if anything happened to him, if anyone picked on him, if he felt like coming home, whatever.

He was expecting to get picked on, to be teased by heartless bullies. Maybe someone would take away his cane or shove him up against the lockers. Perhaps they would lead him to a bathroom or closet when he asked for directions to his next class.

But overall, he didn't face much of that. Mostly, he was just bombarded with questions and curious conversations. He got made fun of a few times, but no one ever dared to push him or touch his cane. Because then, people wouldn't think of them as cool bullies, they would think of them as cruel jerks, and why ruin their reputation for one puny little punk?

It also helped that he made friends with the two guys that would back him up and save his ass on multiple occasions for the rest of high school on that first day of Sophomore year- Zack Merrick and Rian Dawson.