Yellow (editing)

St. Willow Tree

On Monday morning, I discovered within myself that I had many fears. It wasn't the very first moment that occurred to me, obviously, but it was a moment when I felt it a little stronger than I would usually. Fears were a human thing, and unfortunately I'm a human.

Anyway, the basic drill I went through was this: I woke up and sat in my bed for half an hour, just trying to actually get up and suck up to the fact that St. Hemling was only a few hours away and that I would probably be late. That was one of my fears – being late. But the biggest fear I've ever had in my entire life was the fear of the future, no matter how stupid that sounds. I think it's just a human thing, as well. And with school, meant planning for the future, and with all the extra time I had sitting idly in my covers, I had lots of time to worry over that, too .

I'll be completely honest; I've never known what I wanted to be – career wise. And, actually, person-wise. I mean, I was lacking talent and motivation and likeablility, so basically I was better off being a hobo or a grumpy tutor like Barry, rather than actually trying to find a job and live a 9 to 5 life. I wasn't alone on this, I knew that for sure, but I wasn't exactly in the group of people I wanted to be in. Imagine being in the I-know-who-I-am-and-what-I-want-to-be group of the world. That would be pretty amazing. I'm quite sure Orenda was a member, despite her always talking about how the future is uncertain and how it's unlikely we (which included her, I think) would even be able to survive out in the real world, and yadda yadda...but Orenda, I knew she knew exactly what she loved to do and she was good at doing it. And Egan too. He was always into video games and sports, and he was (coincidentally) a pro at both of those things. Me, not so much. At least I could type into a braille machine with my eyes closed, and as my dad says, that's pretty rad and attractive to ladies.

So, obviously when I went to St. Hemling that gloomy Monday morning, and sat in a classroom with who knows how many people (everyone was blind anyway, so I guess they were as clueless as me), and the teacher bellowed throughout the classroom, "WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE OF YOUR FUTURE?" I could've very well peed my pants. The rest of the students in the classroom stayed just as quiet as me, and I heard a few shoes and canes tapping the ground, waiting in anticipation for the class to be over already. I tapped my cane along with the others.

I scratched at my collar and adjusted it nicely on my neck. The uniforms at St. Hemling had improved, which was really good, because the itchy pant tag still haunted me after I dropped out all those years ago. I slowly came to the realization that the person sitting next to me smelled of fried eggs, and it might've made me feel better about myself. I don't know. Perhaps it was Amie or Marybeth, and we just didn't know that it was the other person. Actually, there really was a small possibility that I knew people in the room I was in, and I kind of wished I could be able to scan the room with echolocation or something, to maybe find Marybeth and Amie – if they were still there, that is. The teacher (who I think was called Mr. Rob, or Mr. Robbie, something along those lines) continued babbling about how starting from now until the end of the school year we are going to find what we really love to do, and hopefully find what we want to do in the future to prepare us for our junior year.

The teacher's lecture was interrupted by three knocks on one of those bumpy wooden desks I was sitting on. I remembered that that was how St. Hemling's students 'raised their hands'. It helped with the whole blind thing.

The teacher's cigarette stained voice sailed across the classroom, "yes, Marybeth?"

I shot straight up at the mention of the name. My knee hit the top of my desk with a thud. I heard about a dozen swooshes towards me.

"Mr. Roberto," Marybeth said, her voice was much more different than before, smoother and a tinge sassier, "most of us really don't give a crap."

I cringed, and waited for the response Mr. Roberto (that was his name) was going to reply with. Surprisingly, he seemed very okay with Marybeth disrespecting him to the tenth degree. "I agree. That's what I thought at your age. But we all have a future. I'm here to make sure you guys find out who you really are, and turn out happy, at least."