Blinded // Discontinued

ninteen | persons

comment of the chapter: @insertgirlname_ : I love waiting to read your updates. They are amazing. I love how when I read it it makes me feel like I'm Sophia. It's like I go into the story and become her for those brief moments and it's so incredible. The story is so vivid and I feel like I can smell exactly what she's smelling, feel what she feels, and hear what she hears. Well, I'll stop there because I'm running out of words to say how amazing this book is without being redundant. Can't wait until the next chapter.

This is just perfect ugh.

previously.

Because what I heard was enough to drain everything from me, causing me to lay down on the uncomfortable springs.

In a way, I hated myself for feeling bad for myself, but I did anyway.

"Yeah, I'm with her." A pause, "No, she isn't important, I can always talk to you, babe."

*

quick note: please remember, everything in this book is copyrighted and wholly belongs to me. as soon as this chapter is uploaded everything is copyrighted to me, Khorena A. :)

and as for the other boys, yes they will be in the story, just not right now. they don't exactly fit in this moment.

writers block, beware this chapter will suck and probably be really deep for no apparent reason. But, everything has its reasons.

Sophia.

I sat on my sofa with heavy eyes. The rattle of pots and pans being used kept me awake as Anna prepared something as a thank you for Ed allowing us to stay in his humble abode.

The blacksmith had come and agreed to open the door to my apartment, and although I was tired, I passed my fingers along the Braille symbols on the page.

Ed was seated next to me, and I felt his gaze linger. As if sensing my thoughts about him, he spoke up, "Who are you?" he asked randomly and out of the blue, "Who is Sophia Fintry in all of her entirety?" he softly pondered.

I laughed.

Liam had asked this very same question.

"My name is Sophia Fintry." I said, although he knew that much.

"No. Your name doesn't define who you are inside. There are probably thousands upon thousands baring the same name just as you. Now I ask again, this time looking for a better answer as to who is Sophia Fintry."

I pointed to the page of the book I was reading, "This is what I am." I said warmly, rubbing my finger over the braille lettering.

"A word?"

I shook my head, "I'm a page. Haven't you noticed, pages are representations of people. You can be a blank page, a wrinkled one, a page with a folded corner, one with ripped edges, but this is my page. I am the words spoken in it. I am the pricelessness in this page, because I am of value, but then again, worth nothing. This page is Sophia Fintry in all her entirety."

"I agree, pages are representations of persons, and I am the page where the alcohol has spilled. Where the words are now unreadable and the sights are now unseeable." He said.

I wrinkled my eyebrows, "Why do you say persons?"

He chuckled, "People mean society, and society is chaotic. The people in this society are not what I believe people should be. The people in this society are too animalistic for their own good. Society needs civilization. The people in society are not people, merely persons."