The Stoner & The Blind Girl

Part 3

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"There's none so blind as those who will not listen."

-Neil Gaiman

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When I got home all I wanted to do was lay in bed and never get up. School had a way of draining any energy and happiness from my soul and right now I am way too drained to do anything else.

So I did just that, I went upstairs and went to my room. And, just laid there. I tried to clear my mind so I could try and get a quick nap in before dinner but couldn't.

A special girl with long brown hair was clouding my mind; thoughts of her haunting me.

I wonder what she is doing right this moment... Is she at home? Is she laying in bed? Is she thinking of me? No, probably not.

After this morning, I didn't see her again for the rest of the day and I felt an ache in my chest every time I realized I missed my chance to talk to her again.

She's different and I don't just mean because she is blind. She's...I don't really know. There is just something about her that I can't escape.

I sat up on my bed and looked out my window to see it was now dark outside. How long did I sit here thinking of Emma? I'm not sure.

If I can't sleep I should do something, I'll paint. I thought as I got up and walked over to my painting easel. I put a new canvas on my easel and opened my paint.

As I stood looking at my blank canvas with paint in my hands I realized that for once in my life, I didn't know what I wanted to paint.

I tried to come up with an idea of something to paint but couldn't. I couldn't think about anything other than her.

My mind is being consumed with thoughts of a sightless girl that I've only ever spoken to once, great. This is crazy and definitely ridiculous.

But the harder I tried to think of something, anything, to paint the more the image of Emma's face popped into my mind.

I sighed as I got a cigarette from the pack I keep hidden in my room and lite up taking a long drag trying to calm myself down.

The smoke burned my lungs as I breathed out. The smoke filled my room with a distasteful odor, even so, I took another long drag.

I welcomed the ache in my lungs as I began to calm down. But, I still didn't know what to paint.

"Danny?" My mom called knocking on the door to my room lightly. I didn't even hear her come home.

My eyes widened at the sound of her voice as I put out my cigarette and opened my room window as I began to fan. "Don't worry I'm dressed and so is the girl," I called over jokingly as the smell of smoke began to leave the room.

With that said she opened my door and walked into my room "Oh haha, very funny." She laughed sarcastically rolling her matching brown eyes.

Now the real question is, what does she want. This is either about my not so perfect grades in school or she bought me new art supplies. She tended to do that every once in a while. I could be home doing anything, except for homework, and she would come home from work telling me about some amazing sale on paint or brushes or canvas that she couldn't possibly pass up. I appreciated it though, it was thoughtful of her.

It's more than my deadbeat no-show father ever did for me.

I walked back to my canvas and glance over my shoulder towards her, waiting for her to tell me why she had come in, in the first place. Not that I didn't like it when she came in. She's my mom I love her. She's all I got. But, before she came in I was enjoying destroying my lungs.