001 | First Day of Senior Year

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"It's the first day of school, I hope I don't throw up." 

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Roseanne's P.O.V 

* * * 

"Roseanne! Come on, baby sis, you have school today. Remember it's your last year of high school. Come on, I'm driving you to school." 

I groaned into my pillow as my older brother Brandon yelled from the entrance of my room. I like how he just opens my door like that without knocking. Like gosh, forget that I'm a lady. 

"Roseanne, my love, rise and shine. Get your behind out of that bed." My other older brother Noah said.

I sat up. Smacking my hand wildly around the table next to my bed, trying to get my special glasses. Any light for some reason just messes with my eyes. Even if I am blind. I know it's kinda weird, but it's actually common in some people.

After about 2 minutes of rubbing and smacking all over the bed side table, I finally felt my glasses and put them on my face. Then I stretched and got out of bed.

 When I got up I felt around for my stick but my hands came in contact with someone's upper arm.

"I can help you, my lady." Noah said, pretending to have a French accent.

I giggled at that and wrapped my arm around his bicep, "Well thank you, what a gentleman."

I hear my brother gag next to me. My eyebrows draw up in confusion.

"Just leave the accent faking to me. Your attempts are terrible. I mean it's just god awful." Noah said.

I quickly sock him in the arm and he groans.

"I would have you know that I am actually getting way better with my accent faking."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Just help me to the bathroom. Before we have some issues." I say, with a challenge in my voice.

"Alright. We are going. Don't get sassy with me, I ain't afraid to fight no girl. I'll yeet you so fast across this room -" Noah goes off on me, but I stop him by pointing to the bathroom door.

He gets so caught up in telling me off, that sometimes I have to remind him about the task at hand. 

He shuts his mouth and guides me to the bathroom.

Once, I'm there, I say a small thank you to his leaving figure. He yells a loud you're welcome. Resulting in my uncle, to tell him to be quieter.

 I close the bathroom door fast and get ready for school, before my uncle and brother get into another argument. I feel like they argue almost every day. The arguments range from my uncle being upset that my brother talks back to him sometimes or about my brother not having enough air fresheners in his car.


I did my morning routine and got dressed within 15 minutes. As I got older it got easier to dress myself while blind. I struggle here and there, but all that matters to me is that I'm still making progress everyday. Once I was ready, I walked to where my phone laid on my bedside table and called Tiffany. Tiffany is a lady my uncle hired to help me with my hair and just be there for me in general, since my mom can't feel in that spot. Not like she wanted to anyway.

Tiffany always tells me even if I can't see my head myself ,everyone else can, and at least my hair will be done.

What is so special about Tiffany is that she doesn't treat me like a job. Even though my uncle hired her to help me. She never makes me feel any less than human.

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