Roadtrip Oneshots

Mindy, Colours of the Mind's Eye

Mikey

As weird as it sounded, I never really thought about what things looked like. I'd never given it much thought, because, well, I knew that people couldn't explain it.

After all, how do you explain something to a blind person if they've never seen anything before?

Well, that was my mentality anyway.

I couldn't lie and say I didn't imagine what things looked like, for example Andy Fowler (my boyfriend). Or any of the other boys I lived with. Biscuit. My family. Friends.

It did suck, but I'd gotten used to the darkness I saw around me every day, or would it be more accurate to say the darkness that I couldn't see around me every day?

I knew who was hugging me from their touch... I had mentally remembered what it felt like to be hugged by each person.

It was hard on tour, but I managed; Andy made sure to inform me of where the exits to the rooms were, how many steps I had until I fell off the stage. That way, I could be independent, to an extent.

And when we worked on choreography, Andy would explain it to me in steps, for example "Mike, walk to your left for three large steps." Or "Babe, jump three times, spin in a circle, and take four steps backwards."

Surprisingly things like that worked a lot.

As my room was small, I had everything mapped out in my mind, of where every thing was. Just like I'd managed to do with the house. I knew how many steps it was to the dip in the hallway, how many steps it took to reach the stairs. The number of steps it was from the kitchen sink to the fridge. How far up the oven door was. Where the cupboards were and what was in each of them.

I prided myself with my independence more than anything. And of course, after a few minor accidents, the boys had learned to not leave their things lying around on the floor.

On a first impression people always thought I could see, because if someone started talking to me I could pinpoint their location through their voice. I always found it odd how, once you lost one of your senses, it always, without fail, amplified the others.

But the thing I struggled with the most was colours.

It hurt not knowing what certain colours looked liked, especially when it was all I heard around me sometimes:

"The sky's so blue today!"

"Look at the sunrise this morning! It's all pink and purple and orange!"

"This yellow's a bit bright, isn't it?"

"Brown is such a warm colour."

"Blue."

"Yellow."

"Green."

"White."

"Red."

I couldn't equate those colours to anything to even begin understanding what everyone else on this planet saw.

I mean, I knew the earth from space was blue and green. I knew that Andy had brown hair died blonde, as did Brooklyn. I knew Rye had brown eyes. I knew grass was green, Biscuit was brown, my eyes were blue...

But even still, it didn't mean much when I couldn't compare them with something.

***

"You're quiet today Mike." Andy said softly as he stroked my hair.

I sighed, snuggled further into his chest.