Blind

American Summer Day

It was a nice day out that day; brilliant cloudless blue skies, a sun that kept everything toasty warm, and the sound of birds chirping at each other. They were all the indicators of summer without the searing 30 plus weather. That's Celsius for those who don't understand basic anything. There were only really three things that were wrong with that day. One, I couldn't see the brilliant blue sky; two, I kept running into things; three, and this was the worst; I was alone except for the stranger bugging me.

"Why do you keep running into things?" They asked me, and from the sound of their voice, I assumed at first that it was probably a guy.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I can't see them?" I realize it's not a nice response, but right at the moment before the words even left my mouth I ran into something else that was either a street lamp, or a sign. I took a few steps to the side to only run into someone, muttering a quick sorry to them.

"Then open your eyes," the stranger chuckled, and if I could, I would have rolled my eyes at such a stupid statement.

"I have them open, I'm just blind," I snapped at them, running into something else.

"Why are you blind?"

Why am I blind? I couldn't help but scoff at such a stupid question. "Well it wasn't by choice."

"How could you be blind if it wasn't by choice?" What were they, royalty of the house of stupid questions? I couldn't believe there was actually a person as stupid as this and I was the one forced to talk to them.

"Simple; maybe, oh I don't know, being born blind, being in an accident, or maybe even the rare case of having dealt with an illness that killed your eyesight? Pick and choose because there's probably more." As if the answer wasn't obvious in the first place, I was the one who had to answer this idiot.

"Then what were you?"

I froze in the spot I was in, a knot suddenly forming in my throat as images of rusty spoons and scalpels made a slideshow of my mind. "It was a horrible, horrible, accident." I shook my head a bit, trying to rid myself of the images as I messed with the mirror shades that had started to slid down the bridge of my nose.

"What's your name?" The stranger, who I'm positive was male, asked, sounding as if he was standing right in front of me instead of a little bit behind me.

"My name's Hebi," I sighed, grateful to get away from the past conversation.

"Does it have a meaning?" He asked, and I tilted my head a bit to the side in mock confusion.

"Why does it have to have a meaning?"

"All names have meanings. Mine's Asteri, which according to Google, means star in Greek." He sounded like he had just found out some wonderful news that no one else happened to know, and I felt a small smile tug at the edges of my lips.

"Hebi is Japanese for snake, that is, according to everyone who's ever spoken the language."

"Do you speak it?" I had to keep myself from scoffing, reminding myself that I was dealing with an idiot and that I didn't exactly look like a picture perfect Japanese person.

"Well I only lived there my entire life." I swear karma is real because right after I said it, I ran into someone, once again muttering an apology.

"You don't look like it."

"Apparently I look more like my father, but that's according to my mother." It was actually true though. It was the only explanation that I could possibly get from my mom as to why my eyes had been a brilliant light lavender, my hair pure white, and my eyes not completely Asian squinty. I actually got mistaken for being English more than being Japanese.