Blind Melody (Completed + Edited)

When I Saw You

I walked down the road, the all too familiar road I have been through no less than a thousand times. Cool breeze flew from the opposite direction, over my face, making me squint my eyes slightly. Wet mud and grass under my shoes made an odd squashy sound. Birds chirped as they probably flew by in the sky.

The all too familiar setting of this place made it possible for me to walk around even without seeing a thing. Exactly why I liked this place, to be able to walk around all alone without having the need to see things.

The need I cannot fullfill.

Rude of me to be blabbering without even introducing myself. This is Raiden Adams, at your service. I'm 18, in senior year of school, and blind. Boom!

I like to drop it straight like a missile, why beat around the bush and set up the mood like revealing a secret? It's so obvious with my walking stick and black glasses, which I'm not not wearing at the moment, but you get the point.

I lost my eyesight or became "visually impaired" as they say, around 4 years ago. It was a car accident, I was returning home from a trip, ended in a hospital instead, funny if you ask me now.

Though I thrashed and cried and yelled and fussed and created a scene when I first woke up to darkness.

It was scary, okay?

Specially to a 14year old.

Disheartening, depressing enough to give me suicidal thoughts. Would have even given an attempt at suicide if only I could make my way to any sharp object. Con or say pro of being blind, I atleast don't have any wrist scars.

I wasn't really glad back then, of being alive, but now I am, kind of, maybe, a little bit, I guess.

Atleast I realised I can still live without seeing, nothing to do with living happily, but atleast living, though half dead, but I'm breathing fine so works.

Enough of the self-pity talks for today, though I can continue them all day, wouldn't want to bore you like that.

Sighing, I reached my usual relaxing spot, and sat down leaning on the tree behind. The view from this particular stop is pretty nice, though I can't see it anymore, but remember them from the days I could, and my butler- Gren  ensured that the place is still the same like it was 4 years back.

Oh now that I did mention that I have a personal butler, did I also mention that I'm rich? No? Not yet? How stupid! Well I'm pretty rich. And yes I'm showing off. Stop calling me a narcissist under your breath, my other senses are pretty sharp!

I breathed in the cool air, and leaned back listening to the chirping birds. I know what you are thinking. That I don't sound like the kind of person who will lean back and listen to chirping birds.

Well I wasn't, now I am. Those birds, they chirp all carefree, not minding me or my blindness. Not pitying me or shaking their heads at me clicking their tongues. I hate others pitying me. I pity myself enough on behalf of rest of the world, they don't need to, they don't have to, they seriously should not.

The melodious tune of the birds again stole my attention, so beautiful, so soothing, so..wait! Did I say melodious tune? That does not comes from the birds. Birds don't have tune. Instruments do. It's from an instrument, violin?

It's a first time, listening to the sound of violin here. Or listening to any sound that has anything to do with human existence here. Though it's a very beautiful and serene place, no one actually comes here. Thankfully!

I strained my ears to figure out more about this tune. Because honestly whoever is playing this, has a talent in music.

The sound is coming from somewhere at a distance, towards my right.
There are a few stair steps by the edge leading down towards the bank of the lake.
The lake being a few metres away from the end of the stairs.

I am guessing the violin player is somewhere close to the lake since the sound of the tune reaching me is pretty low, only reason I could hear is the extreme silence here, occasionally broken by the chirping birds and buzzing cricket.

The live performance continued for another half an hour with occasional breaks of a minute or so. On any other day, I would have already been home by now, lying down on my bed and swallowing myself into silence and darkness.

But today I decided to stay, a little longer, because today I had something better to do than being depressed.

The music stopped again. I hoped this was another of the violinist's little break and the performance would resume soon. But it didn't.

Around 2-3 minutes later I heard slight footsteps walking over the wet grass making that odd-annoying squashy sound, that strangely didn't sound that annoying rightnow. The steps sounded far away, meaning the person is still down the stairs.

The steps were light. I'm guessing its a woman. Well I already kind of guessed that it was a woman from the choice of songs she played, but it would have been too judgemental to come to a conclusion just from that, so I did not anything conclude back then.

Squashy sound changed to the sound of shoes hitting concrete, she is climbing the stairs.

Excuse me if I sound creepy and stalkerish. It's kind of a habit..to analyse and over-analyse anything and everything. When you loose one of your senses, others automatically heighten, to compensate for the one lost. I loosing my eyesight resulted in my hearing, sensing and comprehending powers to increase. I was always a very good observer, now I'm ten times more than before.

I would have made a great detective if I still had my eyes, alas! The world of crime and investigation is suffering the loss, lucky those criminals. Alright stop calling me a narcissist now!

Let's get back to the footsteps that now again started producing the squashy sound, just louder. She has climbed the stairs. Her steps suddenly slowed down as they got louder. She continued to walk as the distance between us reduced.

I still sat where I am, not moving, not looking in the direction she is probably coming from. Louder steps, she is pretty close. The air around me changed. I sniffed in, her fragrance, her perfume. Oh definately a women.

I felt her pass me, and soon the steps regained their previous fast pace.

The fragrance lingered in the air around me longer. It was a women, a young woman to be precise. It was a perfume too fresh for someone old, and too sober for a little girl. It was teenager, probably around my age? Hopefully around my age.. hopefully my age.
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Thanku for making it down till here.
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