Simplicity...

Chapter 1

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Chapter 1: (Arabella's POV)

Do your eyes ever just randomly unfocus? Mine do, often, but not often enough.When they do, you're left with the choice of either focusing back in your eyes, or just letting them wonder for a while. I often chose to wonder. So I sit there just gazing at nothing in particular, as the world before me blurs and shimmers. Eventually, this lack of focus causes your head to hurt, and you have to come back to reality. 

But in those couple of minuets, in which i'm completely detached from the world, I get this strange sense of awe. How wonderful it would be, to be completely naive of the world around us. 

To not be able to hear or see, to be that detached from the world, that all it's horrid, awful and damn right evil doings go unknowest to you. If I had one wish, from a gene in a bottle, or a shooting star, candles on a birthday cake or penny thrown into the pond; this is what it would be. I'd wish to be eluded, i'd wish for the world itself to lie to me. I'd never again want to see the corupt, disgusting world which we as humans call ours, home. 

Many people will delude themsleves into thinking that because I am without a sense of sound, I must be niave and some-what inncoent. People don't realise how very wrong they truly are. The simple fact that I find myself labeled by society as being deaf, doesn't on any acount impair my understanding of the world that surrounds us all. 

Quite the contary really. In point of fact, it is those who can hear that are the ones who are surely less aware. For they miss many of the positivitly importort details of life, where as I do not. They don't observe the true goings on around them, where as I do.

Having sent my whole life without a sense of sound, and having had been brought up in multiple different foster and care homes, never learning how to speak or read lips, and only knowing the basics of even sign lanuage; i've had to rely on my sense of sight to aid my every day life.

But this fact is what has led to the state i am in now. 

I see what they miss. 

I smell the lies. 

I could surly touch the evil around me if I tried; it's thick dark cloak of nightmares is almost materalistic.

I hear what they ignore. Even without a sense of sound. 

I've spent my life quietly watching, forever falling deeper into the depression which threatens to consume me at every waiting moment.

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(His POV) 

She's that quite girl at the back of class, who no one really knows. 

 Many boys will admire her from afar and many girls will gaze at her with big sickly-green eyes.

Her waist length blonde hair is of a natural tone, and flows thick and healthily around her in a halo of beauty. Her skin is very pale due to lack of sunlight exposure, but blemish free unlike many of the other adolesances attending Yorkshire Secondary School.

Her eye's are a deep chocolate brown, contrasting in an alluring way with her other primary features, which are of a light acordance. Standing at only 5"3, Arabella Montgamary is a very petite young women, making her seem almost child like. 

She is the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on, in all my untimely years.

 But she is never approached. Never be-friended or seeked as a lover, as her proclaimed beauty should be. 

She's simply admired and always from afar. For in the social environment of secondary school, she is deemed offlimits.

She's deemed wierd. Strange. An outcast. 

But she doesn't want anything to do with them nethertheless, that much is clear. 

She watches the world pass by, quietly, in that sad way of hers; and I watch her, wishing only to put a smile upon her sorrow itched face.