A teacher droning on. A student behind me pounding their pencil on the desk. A girl putting on more perfume, although she was already wearing too much. Two students chatting quietly, in fear the teacher would hear them if they spoke any louder. She didn't, but I did. I squeezed my eyes together, wishing the world would just disappear and I was enveloped in the darkness behind my eyelids. But when I opened them again, the world remained the same. Black.

I hadn't seen a thing since I'd awoken in the hospital room, nearly two years ago. It had taken some time to get used to my new world of eternal blackness but somehow I had managed to struggle through it. There was no magic spell they could use to heal my eyes, and there was no amount of pointless dreaming that could ever it come true.

There was a little click in the intercom. I knew the bell would be ringing in a matter of seconds so I jammed my fingers into my ears in vain for I could still heard the bell's shrill screech. I hated it. No. That was just another understatement. I used to hate it before the Accident. Now it was just another thing that reminds me of how cruel life could be. I stood up and guided myself out of the class, with one hand on the wall, already knowing I was headed towards my least favorite class next.

For some students, math may be their worst fear. I used to be like that. Now it's my favorite because the teacher doesn't treat me differently. He still yells at me when my homework is late, and never babies me. I like people like that. I still take my four core classes. Math, Science, History, and English, but instead of doing gym, theater, or band for my remaining three, I have to go to some stinking classroom and sit, where they do what I hate most of all. 

Baby me.

When I finally reached my destination, the overpowering smell of candles hit me before anything else. It seemed like we were practicing using our newfound senses, as if they were super powers. This was the third time this week. At least it wasn't sign language. I could never understand the point in learning the language of hands, when I couldn't even see. It was a pointless waste of time, when I should be learning something that I actually wanted to learn about, but would forget by college.

To make matters worse, I wasn't alone in the class. There was also two girls and a boy, each one of them with physical disabilities. We were all thrown in this class for about three normal class periods, back-to-back. The other kids in the class never seemed to talk, or one of them didn't, at least. The other two never talked to me. The boy was paralyzed, one girl was deaf, and the final girl was mute. 

Yay, let's round up all the worthless people and hope a meteor crushes them.

I slid into my chair sitting at my desk in the back of the class and away from the others, as I did every other day. I liked to be alone nowadays, or maybe I always had, but covered it up with too much makeup and cruel jokes about others. Now it hurts too much to be with people, so instead, I sit and I listen. 

It was strange, but my hearing had gotten surprisingly better after I went blind, as the doctors had said it would. At first I thought it was just my mind messing with me, but after two years now, it had definitely gotten better. Perhaps that's was why the sudden sound of footsteps shocked me. I quickly realized then, that the two girls were coming over to me.

"Hello there," one of the girls said, and her words sounded a bit weird, like a slurred version of what they were supposed to be. It must have been the deaf girl. I had only met one other deaf person in my life, and she had spoken to me like that. I then heard a series of faint movements as fingers began to collide. She was trying to sign me, I realized.

"I can't see. So stop it," I said bluntly. 

Another thing that had come with my blindness was a slight temper, ready to be fired upon anyone who got too close. Just another reason why I avoided other people. I heard a soft tapping and the finger motions stopped. Then I felt the touch of soft, moisturized fingers brushing against my skin.I It took a minute, but I realized one of the girls was signing, but it was by touch.

My name is Mercy. I'm mute, the girl signed, her sentence simple and I simply nodded my head, to show I understood. I knew what words meant, I just had a hard time putting them together as my own.

I'm Eve, the other girl signed, then paused, finally she added, I'm deaf.

"Why are you talking to me?" I asked, confusion lacing my voice like a elegant design.

We wanted to know if you would like to say goodbye to Harvey. He's moving tomorrow. Eve informed me, using out newfound means of communication, after most likely after reading my lips this time.

I paused for a moment to let my brain process all this new information. These girls were talking to me - well kind of. Now I could either tell them to get lost and continue my sulking, like an old man remembering the "good old days" when I still possessed my vision, or I could go with them to wish this Harvey good-bye and good luck, and quite possibly make some new friends in the process.

With just the slightest moments of hesitation I stood up and allowed them to guide me to where their friend was. I could just barely smell it under the overwhelming reek of pumpkin scented candles, but there most certainly was the smell frosting, baked sweets. I figured that they were having a small good-bye party, for their friend. I hear fingers moving and I didn't need my sight to know they were upset that Charlie had to go.

"So you're the mysterious girl who's been hiding in the classroom," he said, and I snapped my face to his voice, as I was a little off before. "Mercy tells me you're blind, but she can't really keep anything a secret," he added teasingly, and I heard the sound of a hand hitting his shirt.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," I mumbled, suddenly slightly embarrassed about wishing a person I didn't know good-bye. "I mean, I don't really know you as well as I would like too, but I hope you have a good life wherever you are going."

"Thank you," he said, voice kind, but there was a lingering sadness mixed into it. "I'm Harvey," he said, the sadness now gone.

I blinked in confusion, before I decided I had just imagined his sorrow.

"You know, when one person tells another their name, they usually expect a name in return," he said, gently. 

"Ashley." I said, blushing a little bit. 

I hadn't really spoken unless a teacher called on me, which was next to never since they all thought I should be handled like a hand grenade, or when I was at home with my mom. My dad had died before I started running in seventh grade, and we didn't talk about him much.

"Well it was nice meeting you Ashley," he said, and I thought I could feel his smile, melting some of the ice from my heart, and opening a door to a new life. A life where I could have friends and be happy once more. A life where I didn't have wear a constant armor to protect myself from what happened, as if to make sure it never happened again.

That was when our teacher, Mr. Meyers, a man who couldn't physically be unhappy without exploding, walked into the classroom and said, "Okay class, before we get to the party, we need to do some work first. We will be dealing with the senses!"

 I stopped listening after that, returning to my desk where I sat back down and was lost in thought once more, wild fantasies running through my head. I smiled inwardly, and for the first time in a very long time I felt happy. I hoped Mercy, Eve and I would become friends. If not, I'm sure I'll make some new ones, somehow.  

-=+=-

AN:

Hey yo! I'm so happy to present the first chapter to 'Running Blind'. I'll be leaving you lovely little messages like this through out this story, just not as frequently as my previous novels, if you've read them. So that's all for now. BYE!!!!