Senseless

Chapter One

Chapter One

The Five A's:

Tactile anesthesia and regular Anesthesia.

Ageusia.

Anosmia.

Unilateral Anacusis and Paracusis.

Complete Achromatopsia.

I'd had them all since birth. At least, that was what my father used to tell me. I wasn't absolutely positive. You can never be absolutely positive. But as far as I knew, I was pretty much stuck without the five known human senses. 

And, no. I wasn't one of those optimistic people who had this great and amazing outlook on life and were inspirational to the whole world.  But, that being said, I wasn't entirely pessimistic about it. I just really hated the fact that everyone deemed me different because of my situation. It felt like I wasn't allowed to be a human being. 

I couldn't feel things that touched me. Yes, this meant that I couldn't feel pain. It sucked. My entire arm could be chopped off and I wouldn't feel a thing. Yeah. Not fun. I could sort of feel things I touched, though. Not their textures, but I could tell I was touching something. 

I couldn't taste. At all. Pizza? Nope. Bacon? Nope. Ghost peppers? Nope. It sucked, too. I never got to taste ice cream. I wanted to taste ice cream. Or at least water. People said water was tasteless. I highly doubted it. 

I couldn't smell. Again, this fact sucked. There were no roses for me. I always heard about roses. I wished I could smell them.

I couldn't hear. My right ear was completely deaf, my left only partially. I could usually understand what people were saying, my brain just took a bit to process it, what with it having to clear out the fuzziness of the words and all. Half of it was my ears actually working, the other was my awesome lip reading. I always felt bad having to ask them to repeat what they had said, though. Thankfully, however, the speaking barrier was nonexistent for me. Talking came easily. Still sucked not being able to hear well, though.

I couldn't see colors. Wait. That wasn't necessarily true. I could see three colors. Grey, black, and white. Mainly grey. Amazing, right? Just kidding. It sucked. Not that I hated not being able to see colors, but rather that I couldn't understand them, or why people thought they were so incredible. My vision was oftentimes quite blurry as well. At least in bright lights. I used to wear sunglasses during the day to make things a bit darker. They were cheap, though, so they didn't do much to help, and eventually I just ditched them because all they really did was make me look like an idiot.

I called myself senseless. After all, that's what I was. 

Anyways, I liked to draw. To draw with colors. They may have been grey to me, but to others they were different. I didn't have any idea what the colors looked like, and part of me didn't care to. Grey was kind of nice. Plus, it fit in quite nicely with the overall blandness of my world. 

It was kind of funny when I would get asked why I was coloring the grass blue, or why the water was orange. You wouldn't believe how many people came up to me per day, somehow finding it worth their time to point out that something about my drawing wasn't one hundred percent normal. I would reply with the same five words, "Must there be a reason?" (I called this Killing) Then they would leave, be it with a smile or a scowl. And that was how it went. Every time. It got to the point where the words came naturally out of my mouth. I didn't even look up and let my pencil rest. But, just like in any other circumstance where things get to the natural point, my course was interrupted.