Seeing Blind || Bird Box Fanfiction

lane

A weight in his backpack pressed into his spine, reminding him of its presence as he trudged through the woods. There was nothing graceful about the way in which he carried himself--how could one be graceful without being able to see, anyway?

793 steps, and he'd be within the town's limits. He'd mapped his four targets and had plotted the number of steps it would take to reach all of them. He'd studied the map all of the previous day, memorizing the turns he'd have to take and the numbers between each destination. He carved them into his brain until they were the only things he knew for certain.

That, and his name. Lane Fox.

A block was 157 steps for them. The destinations were at the farther end of town, so it would be 1884 steps before he reached the first destination.

He'd never liked numbers.

Still, he never lost count. To lose count would mean he'd lose himself, and that was not an option.

He was Lane Fox, and he knew of that and numbers only.

He whispered the numbers with each stride, "600, 601..." He kept himself on path with the long cane he had acquired years ago, tapping it in front of him to watch for curbs or anything else lying in his way.

It didn't mean he didn't run into things, of course. He was glad that every other living creature was either an alien, an animal, a brain-washed idiot, or blind-folded. Otherwise he'd be a laughing stock, and not the good kind.

At long last, he reached his first destination. He was as silent as a shadow, easing the door shut behind him once he walked up the overgrown walkway. The door hadn't so much as squealed. He repositioned the blindfold on his face so he could see any light streaming through the windows, without seeing the windows themselves. He yanked the curtains over the light sources, snuffing out the danger.

Only when all of the light had been muted did he untie his blindfold, still keeping his eyes diverted from the windows.

Just in case.

He raked through the house, as he always did.

The cupboards for forgotten food... There was not a crumb.

The bathroom for first aid... There was not even a bandage.

The office, where many families had hidden firearms... There was not even a shell of a bullet lying about.

The place had been wiped clean.

The town, in its prime, had been small. Only 1600 people had lived there years ago, before civilization had crumbled into shambles. He had found all of the houses to be untouched when he'd arrived, and had stayed just outside the little town ever since.

He knew he hadn't been to that house before. He was careful to mark off each house as he went, using a map he'd found at a gas station with gray blotches showing where all of the houses were.

He retied his blindfold and then trudged to the same house.

The same problem occurred... and then occurred again, at the third house.

Cursing foully, he went to the fourth house... which had been untouched.

He swept through, snagging everything worth taking. He kept his eyes out for any threat, aware that he, perhaps, was not alone in the town any longer.

Perhaps he'd look at moving along before he got trapped there.

Before he exited the house, he fished through his bag and pulled out his hobby.

A polaroid camera.

He had not realized how much he missed seeing before it'd been taken away from him. Swiped, like a wallet...

Only he would have given up his wallet a thousand times, if it had meant he wouldn't lose the ability to see the world around him. He tied his blindfold and then clutched the camera tightly in his hands as he exited the house, easing the door shut behind him.

He walked the thirteen steps it took to get to the end of the pathway and raised the camera, pressing the trigger to take a shot.

The camera clicked and whirred, releasing the film. He grabbed it and waved as he walked, using his free hand to tap with the cane.

"One, two, three..."

Hello! Welcome!

For those of you who have decided to read this story because you've read other things by me, thank you for stopping by! I hope you come to enjoy it.
For my newbies out there, HELLO! I would like to also thank you for dropping on by. <3

I have decided to take a break from my personal work (which you should go read, ahem) and pump out something that's been festering within my busy brain.

This will be a short story, based off of the movie Bird Box. I have not read the book at this point, so this is all based off of what I gathered from the movie. No characters used in the movie will be in this spin-off, I am sorry to say.

I mentioned above that this will be a short-story. I am unsure of the total chapters there will be, but it will not be a novel, by any means.

This story came to be after I watched the movie, spurred by one single question: what of the artists?

And thus, this story was born.

Please, take the time to vote and comment. I love seeing you all support. If you decide you're keen on my writing, give me a follow! I am an English major with a lot of stories to tell.

Thank you <3