Mount Pleasant

Chapter 2

*Picture of Lucas! He's not the best looking, but I thought he suits the character!*

Bentley's POV

I awoke the next morning to a hand shaking my shoulders back and fourth. Yawning, I allowed my body to stretch before opening my eyes and looking in the direction of Lucas.

"Good morning little bro." He mumbled, his voice hoarse and laced with sleep.

"Morning." I responded, clearing my throat afterwards. I sat up and leaned against my headboard, trying to collect my disoriented and sleepy thoughts.

"We're touring the town today." Lucas said, standing up from my bed. I heard several of his bones crack, indicating that he was stretching.

"When are we leaving here?" I asked, wanting to know if I have time to shower. I might not be able to see myself disheveled and sleepy looking, but that doesn't mean other people can't either!

"Whenever you're ready. Mom's downstairs cooking breakfast right now. She's making your favorite." Lucas responded, chuckling afterwards assumedly at my very excited smile.

"Mmmm, banana pancakes with whipped cream." I moaned at just the thought of it. Lucas chuckled again and leaned down to place a soft kiss on my forehead. I then listened as his footsteps retreated from my bedroom. I stood up and moved through my bedroom, which was easy considering it has been set up the same way that it was before, and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

I felt around the walls for a moment before I found the shower. I spent about five minutes trying to work it, which was damn near impossible without being able to see what I was doing. Finally, however, I managed to turn the water on to a comfortable temperature. I stripped all of my clothes off and carefully climbed into the shower.

Someone had already placed my toiletries in here, which I'll have to thank them for, and everything was pretty much where I'm used to having it; Shampoo on the top shelf with the body wash, and conditioner on the bottom shelf with the face wash.

After my shower, I dried off with a towel and wrapped it around my waist before going back into my bedroom.

Inside the closet my clothes were divided by color. Each section had a little divider that said which color it was in Braille. I read all of the tags until I found a red shirt. I'm not sure why, but red is my favorite color.

I've been taught the differences between colors through my sense of feel. I had a therapist when I was younger, and she taught me how to cope with being blind. One of the things that we did was teaching me the emotional feeling of a color. To do this, she handed me a rock. It was just a plain old, ordinary rock that probably came from her backyard. She had soaked it in hot water, dried it off, then handed the hot rock to me. She explained that the color red was associated with fire, or an intense, burning passion for something. So that is why red is my favorite color.

Shaking my head to tuck away these fond memories, I finished getting dressed and slowly made my way downstairs. If I waited to eat those pancakes another minute I think I would drool up a river.

"Good morning sweetie. How was your first nights sleep?" Mom asked, walking over and gently grabbing me by the wrist. She guided me over to the table and I heard her sit down beside me. The smell of banana pancakes filled the air and I couldn't be any happier.

"I slept well. You?" I asked, reaching in front of me and finding my fork. I began eating and shivered in delight when my tastebuds had a party due to the flavor of my breakfast.

"Just marvelous. Listen, sweetie, I'm starting work today. They gave me second shift so I'll be home in the mornings but I have to be at work for 3:00 every day." Mom answered. I sighed, knowing for a fact that when I start school next month I'll hardly ever see her during the week.