The Things We See

Chapter 1

I shuffle across the floor and bump into the table. A chair. The counter. Then the wall. I reach out my hands and feel my way through the rest of the kitchen.

"Where's your cane?"

I ignore my mom's continuous paranoia about me getting hurt.

"Tim!" She shouts, impatiently waiting for my reply.

Walking away I feel the smooth wall brush across my hands.  The hard banged-up wood surrounding the frame of my bedroom door scratching the rough callouses on my hands.  I turn around and slam the door, a small brush of wind crosses the un-bandaged part of my face.

My room is never neat. Making it almost impossible not to step on something.  Recently, however, that all changed.  Now my room is never messy; everything has a specific spot where it returns to.  This allows me to make it over to my bed in the far right corner of my now clutter free room. I feel the soft sheets and fluffy pillows as I lay flat waiting for the lecture to come.

"Timothy James!" My mom barges through the door. "If you don't use you're cane, your going to hurt yourself! One day I won't be here to help you-" she is interrupted by her sobbing and unsteady breath.

"Mom, I'll be fine..." I slowly sit up and put my feet on the floor. She sits down next to me and I feel the bed gently dip. I find her shoulder and softly rest my arm on it, doing my best to comfort her.

"I'm sorry Tim. " I feel a shift on the bed, while she chokes on the words she's trying to say. "It's just-just- well... I just want you to know I love you." She sniffs, and tries to compose herself.

"I get it. You don't want me to hurt myself, but I have to learn on my own. This isn't something that's going away anytime soon and if I don't learn now I never will."

I sit and wait, hearing her breathing slowly steady. She wraps her arms around me. Her warm body and comforting smell makes me let out a long sigh.

"I know... you need to figure this out on your own." Her voice uneasy. She stands up and makes her way out of my room, her footsteps soft and light as the door shuts behind her.

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The sound of a continuous-nagging of my alarm advises me to get up out of my warm cocoon like bed.  I smell the breakfast bacon sizzling on a frying pan.  A soft knock on the door reminds me it's time to get out of my bed.

"You have a doctors appointment at 9:30." My mom calls through the wooden door.

"Okay."  I quickly sit up, trying to balance myself as a rush of dizziness swirls through my head.

"I am special.  I am gifted.  I am loved.  I am smart.  I am strong. I am perfect just the way I am"  I quickly recite the words my doctor suggested in order to help me stay positive.

As I stand up I take a deep breath and push my body forward. I grab the clothes off the cedar chest at the end of my bed and begin to find the tags.  Everything I own has a tag; it has become extremely essential.  Most of them were sewn on by my mom to help me find the backs. 

As I walk down the hallway, running my fingers along the walls, the smell of juicy bacon becomes stronger and stronger. I begin to sniff the air like a crazed dog looking for his next meal.  I turn the corner, not realizing my sudden mistake until it's too late.

"Tim wait!"

I fall to the floor tripping over Missy, who is laying in the center of the floor.  She whines and licks me square in the face. Her energetic personality and her gross dog breath overwhelm me as I squirm to get away.