Take My Hand

Chapter 1

'Charity '
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I woke up today and thought it's really ironic how time changes things. You get so used to the little things in life that you tend to lose appreciation for it until it's gone. That's what I've realised this morning.

I sat up and felt around the wooden desk near my bed and touched the button, on the lamp. I don't even know why I bother, it's not like the light is going to make any difference to me. I laugh to myself as I yawn, trying to get myself to wake up. I hate mornings. No...scratch that... I loath waking up in the morning. I've got nothing against the sun rising, so long as I don't have to rise with it.

I sigh as I feel around for my electronic note taker. I don't know why I feel the need to write this down it's quiet depressing if I'm being honest. Regardless I type down what happened today. After two years I'm finally getting the hang of this whole braille thing. I smile giving myself a virtual pat on the back.

"Charity!! Breakfast is almost ready! Holler if you need help getting ready for school! " Mom shouts from downstairs.

She is always so concerned about me, sometimes it's sweet, other times it can get a bit smothering. But I love and appreciate all that she does for me. My transition would have been a nightmare if not for her. I look down at my note taker and sigh remembering yet another precious little thing I've lost. I debated telling my parents, I don't want them to feel pitiful towards me. I want to make them proud of me and what I can achieve blindness or not.

Getting up I slowly got ready, retrieving my clothes from the draw. I function on reflex and muscle memory. When the doctor told me I only had about five months of perfect sight left, I went through alot. But afterwards I became determined not to waste a second and memorize every detail of my surroundings. From my house, to school, to all the way downtown. So it's as if I could see it with my eyes close.

What's trippy is when the development people suddenly get bright ideas, like putting a pole in the middle of the walk way. That was painful, my head still hurts from running into to that dreaded pole. I slip on my flannel shirt over my black tank top. I love the feel of flannel, it brings me a unexplainable amount of comfort.

I walk downstairs and the smell of delicious pancakes hits me full force. My sense of smell and hearing are really great these days. Amazing how the body makes up for itself, when one loses one of their senses.

"Morning hun, how did you sleep last night" I hear, sensing she is on the left side if me. So I turn my body slightly and smile.

"I slept alright. Although my dream was kinda weird..." I gulped contemplating telling them. Although I was probably making a much bigger deal about it then necessary.

"I used to have really strange dreams when I was your age." I hear my dads voice at a bit of a distance. I carefully walk towards the dining table.

"I'm right next to you sweety, on your right." I hear my dads say alot closer than earlier, I turn to my right as he puts his hand gently on mine signalling he was going in for a hug. I really appreciate my family learning to be more vocal around me. I feel alot safer having a relative sense of what's going on.

"I would ask what you dreamed about, but I'm honestly too scared to know." I say laughing, because I know how crazy, weird and scary my dads imagination can be at times.

"Scaredy cat." my dad scoffed.

I heard my mom laugh, and couldn't help the smile creeping up on my face. The mood around the table was light and joyful. I thought better to not tell my parents about yet another thing I've lost. The last thing I would want, is to ruin the vibe with my depressing thoughts.