Love Is Blind || A Cashton Fanfiction

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

I have never been able to see, ever. There has never been a day when I have woken up and my eyes have fluttered open and I have been able to see colour, or people or the ceiling above my head. I am blind, and I am okay with that. Mostly because I have not known any different and I cannot change it. Today is what my Mum is calling “the first day of the rest of your life” I am starting High School for the first time and I’m not going to lie, I am terrified of it. I’ve read, or rather trailed my fingers across the braille of, many Young Adult books that describe just how hard High School can be for the underdog. I know that I can’t exactly watch them stare at me but you kind of get a feeling that every single eye is positioned on you and your unfortunate disability. I’ve been home-schooled forever; my Mum has taken on the responsibility of teaching me since I can remember. But my Mum has been forced to take on a job to ensure that we can eat and we can live in our house, and so because of the job she can no longer home school me. I didn’t get mad when she told me, because she’s supported me since I was born but I was sort of upset that I have to go to normal school now.

One of the worst things is having to get up at a really ungodly hour, I hate it a lot and now I’m going to have to do it every single day to make sure I’m not late for school. My Mum ensured that her job was flexible so that she can take me to school and pick me up; she didn’t really like the idea of me getting the bus to school. Neither did I to be honest. This morning I woke up with a really weird feeling, nerves for sure, but admittedly I am kind of excited to be finally meeting new people, even though I know that I’m going to end up not talking to anyone unless I’m spoken to. I felt for my white cane as always, which is placed next to my bed on the floor as part of a religious routine, and pull the covers off me before sitting on the edge of my bed and getting up to go to the bathroom, using my white cane to guide me. I’m perfectly capable of not using it in the garden or in the house because once you know your way around a place you don’t need to be able to see something to know it’s there. But my Mum said I should get in the habit of using it constantly because I’m going to have to use it all the time when I’m in school.  We’ve thought about getting a guide dog before, but I’m not sure I’d know what to do with it. I’m not good with animals, especially when the bark and dribble.

Once I’m in the bathroom, I leave my cane resting on the sink and pull of my t-shirt and boxers and get into the shower. Fumbling to get the right temperature is not one of my favourite activities and to be honest, I end up getting frostbite or 3rd degree burns before I get the right temperature. I take as long as I need, washing my hair and my body before exiting the shower and wrapping the towel, placed on the shelf around my middle. I pad over to the sink and wash my face and teeth before drying off and walking back into my room, grabbing my cane as I exit.  One thing about being blind is that you have to admit that your Mum picks out your clothes for you and although I’ve been told that she has a real knack for picking out trends in Men’s fashion and that I look pretty ‘rad’, I feel a tiny bit insecure that she’s dressed me in something really stupid. By the time my shower ends, my Mum has made my bed and placed clean clothes on the edge of my bed. When I was 12, I begged my Mum to let me pick out my own clothes without her help which she obliged. I was told that pink cardigans do not go well with neon blue trousers. Now my Mum will let me go shopping with her and she describes everything to me, and although I have no real idea if the clothes she are describing to me look good or not, it makes me feel a little less uneasy. 

Once I’m dressed, I walk out of my room and down the hallway to the kitchen. My room is on the bottom floor because it isn’t safe enough for me to walk up and down the stairs in our house. My Mum and my Aunt and Uncle helped to refurbish the living space into my bedroom and always come round to help redecorate it each year or whenever my Mum says so. I’ve been told it looks great.  I can smell pancakes, which makes me grin because I love pancakes. “Morning Mum” I say to her, sitting myself down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, picking up my knife and fork before she places a plate of pancakes in front of me, “Good morning Ashton” she sounds stressed and I can hear her running around the kitchen picking up pieces of paper. “They’ve already given you the job Mum…” I tell  her, stabbing my fork into the mountain of pancakes, “They’re not going to mind if you get a few things wrong” I stuff in my pancakes when I’m finished advising her, and listen for her reply. “Yes but I have to show that I’m worthy of them. I can’t afford to lose the job” she says to me, opening the fridge door. “Yeah…” my voice is muffled by pancakes and I gulp them down, “But you’re gonna’ do great.” She closes the fridge door and places something by the side of me on the breakfast bar before moving my hair up to kiss my forehead, “Thank-you honey. I’ll do your hair after breakfast” She rushes past me and into her study. I sigh heavily, another thing I have to admit to if people ask. My Mum does my hair. Once again I’ve been told that she styles it pretty well but it isn’t something most 17 year old boys experience. Once I’m finished breakfast, I get down from the stool and place my plate in the dishwasher before feeling for the package that Mum placed by my side before she left. It feels like a paper bag so I’m guessing it’s my lunch. 

We’re out of the door pretty early considering we’ve both had a mini panic attack based on “What if everyone hates me?”, “What if I do something wrong?” and the classic “What if I don’t make friends?”. My hair has been done, my bag has been packed according to the letter from my school as to what I’m supposed to bring. We have a meeting with the Principal before school starts and my Mum is also freaking out about that. We talk about whether I’m excited, what to do if I get stuck or if I don’t understand something for the entire car journey until my Mum parks up. I get out of the car, and pull on a jacket and my backpack and get my cane out from the footwell. I walk next to my Mum as she points out potential hazards to me “Watch that hole, Ash” or “Ashton, be careful there’s a slight incline”. We walk into the reception which smells of cotton and disinfectant and my Mum sits me down on a chair which is far too deep for anyone to feel comfortable on as she talks to a receptionist. As she’s talking I can hear the door, leading to what I presume into the school, because it’s the opposite way to the way I came in, open. “Mrs Irwin?” he asks cheerfully, and I turn my head towards his voice, “Yes..?” she asks cautiously before picking up her rhythm once again, “Oh I’m sorry you must be Mr Dunstan?” I listen for their movements and wait for the inevitable,

“Yes, that’s me. And this must be Ashton?” he asks moving towards me,

I nod, “Yes sir”,

I hear my Mum cough and I look at her, I must have missed something, “Ashton shake Mr Dunstan’s hand” I blush and offer my head which he takes and shakes. Really he should have known that I wouldn’t have shaken it if he just offered his hand without giving any sort of indication that he wanted me to shake his hand because I can’t see it. “Shall we go into my office?” he asks, not waiting for an answer before opening the door. I get up from the seriously uncomfortable chairs and walk towards my Mum, who takes my arm and leads me. 

We are escorted into what I assume is Mr Dunstan’s office and I feel for a chair before sitting down. “Well it’s very nice to meet you both and I’m so glad you’ve chosen our school for Ashton to study in” the principal starts,

“Well you seemed like the best place for Ashton’s needs” my Mum says, obviously lying through her teeth because this was our third choice of schools. The first two didn’t accept on the grounds that I was too high maintenance for them. I remember my Mum cursing down the telephone. “I think you’re going to like it here Ashton. Now I just wanted to run through a few things to put both of your mind’s at rest” I nod and I assume my Mum does too because he continues to talk, “All of your textbooks are braille, and important things like scissor cupboards or chemical cupboards have braille written on them just in case. You won’t be expected to handle things like scissors or chemicals but it’s for your safety. We’ve got you a Braille Typewriter, so that you can write in class and make notes. And we’ve also made sure that you won’t be alone at any point. So for the first week or so, I’ve instructed one of our students to be your guide. She’s in almost all of your classes and is in your Registration Group. And of course you don’t have to stick with her, if you find friends that will do that for you then we don’t expect you to just stay with her. But she is there for you. Do you have any questions Ashton?” his voice is slow and his tone is tiresome so I think he’s probably old and nearly blind himself but I shake my head politely “No thank-you sir”. My Mum seems to be satisfied because she hasn’t said anything. “Okay, I will introduce you to your guide and your Mum and I will talk. If you just want to follow me” I stand up and walk forward into something, I stumble a little backward and I feel my Mum’s hand on my back, “I’m sorry, Ashton” Mr Dunstan says to me, “My arm is just in front of you, I’ll take you outside” I grab onto his arm without saying a word before turning to my Mum, “Good luck today Mum, see you at 4” I say before she says her goodbyes and love-you’s and I leave the office. We stop just outside the door of Mr Dunstan’s office before he speaks again “Ashton this is Allison. Your guide” I hold out my hand to avoid embarrassment once again “Hello” I say a little timidly, “I’m Ashton but you can call me Ash if you like” The girl, Allison, takes my hand and shakes it lightly, “I’m Allison, but you can call me Allie”