What Lovely Kidneys You Have (An Eyeless Jack P.O.V & Romance)

7 - Striptease, Anyone? I'll Take Off My Gloves For You.

Sight: The faculty or power of seeing; perception of objects by use of the eyes; vision

Sightless: Unable to see; lacking the sense of sight; eyeless; blind

Me: A strange combination of the two.

If there’s anything that’s ever kept me up at night, wide-awake into the tiring hours of the morning, my “sight” has been it. I can remember the first day I went completely ‘blind’, but it wasn’t as I expected it to be. I’m not going to go into it and bore you with all of the bloody details, but I will indulge on the matter of my eyes. Well, my sight. They say that the heart sees, or the soul sees, but that’s nothing but a load of crap. Let’s be honest: either you can see, or you cannot. No one can ‘taste with the soul’; you need a tongue. No one’s ever been documented to ‘see the sound of a trumpet’; you cannot hear without that ability. And just as such, you cannot see without eyes. I guess I could consider myself ‘blind’ to some extent, but I’m not. I can see, but how can I when I lack the eyes necessary to do so?

This question has roamed around in my brain for ages now, and it’s a sensitive subject for me, I must admit. I am not as ‘confident’ in what I am as others like me may be. I am not ‘normal’, and although you may think that doesn’t bother me, at times, it does. I can’t comprehend it, but the anxiety that occurs when one is close to unmasking me, and taking away my coverage, is unimaginable. I’m already a freak, so what should their reactions matter? Well to me, I suppose, a lot.

I attempt to not care, I truly do, but I lack the ability to be so, brave. I can hardly understand what I am, so how could I expect an idiot to? Exactly, I couldn’t, which is why I keep myself concealed, masked. If the rest of the world knew what I hid under the blue, dripping disguise, under my safety blanket, then I’d lose a part of my identity, I believe. I enjoy being hidden, under the cover of darkness and clothing and masks. I enjoy wearing gloves to conceal my graying skin, and a hood to keep the strange, out of place head of hair a secret. If people knew how I truly looked, under my disguise, I’d surely become a black hole, consuming myself in a pit of darkness and emptiness, a large mass of absolutely nothing.

Am I self-conscious, you may ask? No, I am not.

Am I afraid for the rest of the world to be frightened of what I am, when I’m already terrified of my own reflection in the mirror?

Yes, more than a child fears the boogie man…

***

“I mean honestly, hot Cheetos with nacho cheese is so, freaking, GOOD! I don’t get why people hate on the idea. Sure, it’s a pretty strange combination, but if done right, it’s amazing! Just, yum! Have you ever tried it?” Nadia asked, looking over at me as we walked along the darkened sidewalk, “Oh, wait, never mind,” she retracted, looking guilty, “You probably haven’t even tasted Cheetos. Or nacho cheese.”

I sighed, “You know, I wasn’t born this way.”

“Oh, so you have had hot Cheetos with nacho cheese?”

“No.”

“Ha, well you missed out! Too bad you only eat people now and will never know the delicious taste of hot Cheetos with nacho cheese. Like seriously, it is the best freaking thing! You just open up a bag and pour the cheese in and WALAH! You’ve got yourself a super cheesy, extra nacho-ey, awesome-tastic-super-duper-yummy-dummy-fun time- party snack-”

I halted, making her bump into my back; she was following directly behind me and was most likely not watching where she was headed. I turned to face her, the annoyance building, “Can you please shut up? You are the most annoying creature I’ve ever met in my life.”