Chapter 2
I can tell she’s shocked to see me. I can imagine with my scar I look horrific. But Sam always was full of surprises.
“Hello Shay, you’re looking well.”
I snort, trying to stifle a laugh. “You call this looking well?”
“I thought your sister was the one who lived,” She replies coldly, walking away.
“Oh my…” Mrs. Trent whispers. “You’re still welcome to stay David, we have no objections.”
Stepping back, she welcomes us into the house. I can remember the layout pretty well. Well to be honest, I thought I remembered it. I make it about 5 feet in the door before I trip.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I rub the egg on the back of my head.
“What in God’s name did I just trip over?” I growl, wincing from the pain of hitting the floor.
“You tripped over a stool…” Mrs. Trent says, obviously confused. She like everyone else, doesn’t realize it yet.
“Mrs. Trent, we meant to tell you this but David is---“
“Blind.” I cut off the Lieutenant abruptly.
I hear her inhale at that, and Sam gasps somewhere behind me.
“I can’t see at all. I don’t normally trip, I just figured I knew where everything was and I didn’t,” I say, picking myself up.
“It was due to the accident, wasn’t it?” Mrs. Trent asks lightly. I can hear the sympathy in her voice, and honestly, I don’t need it.
“The last thing I saw was my own reflection, now all I see is never ending darkness,” I reply, picking up pens and pencils that had fallen out of my bag.
“Sam, could you---“
“Don’t say help me…” I cut her off, “I can still do normal stuff all on my own.”
“Then could you show David to his room…?” She says, obviously wanting me out of earshot.
Sam whispers, “This way,” and I hear her pad up the stairs. Following her, I pause at the top, in order to get my bearings, and then walk to where I can hear her shuffling around. Walking into the room, I immediately hear her close the door behind me.
“Okay Shay, I don’t believe for a second that you’re blind. Prove it. How many fingers?”
I feel her brush past me; judging by her voice and the flow of the air around her hand, take a wild guess.
“Two?”
“You aren’t blind,” she hisses, walking up to stand inches in front of my face. I can feel her breathe tickling my nose.
“Let me try and guess what you’re wearing then. My first guess is a blue collared shirt and jeans,” I challenge.
“Wrong.”
“Then it’s that red v-neck shirt you like so much and your black, torn jeans,” I throw out.
“Strike two.”
“Then I have no clue…” I say after pausing for a few seconds to think. “Have I proved myself now?”
“All black, and fine. I believe you… for now.” She replies, trying to walk past me.
Catching her hand, I spin her around to face me, and embrace her.
“Coming that close to death made me rethink everything Sam. I’m different now.”
“You’ll always be the same old David Shay to me,” she replies pulling away and walking out.
For the next few minutes I grope around, trying to familiarize myself with the room. After tripping and nearly falling on my face five or six times I finally sit down on the bed. Downstairs I know they’re talking about me… And then footsteps approach the room.
“Knock, knock. Can I come in?” I hear Mr. Trent laugh from in the doorway.
“You don’t have to ask…” I reply, rising from the bed.
“No, no, no. Don’t get up on my account. I just came up here to talk to you a bit. I know this must really be hard for you and I just want to help make it a little easier on you. So my first question is: How do you want us to treat you?” he asks sitting down on the chair by the bed.
“Just like you would treat me any other day. I just sometimes need a hand walking around so I don’t fall. I don’t need to be guided or anything. Just verbal notes, like if I’m going to trip over, say a stool.” I reply, looking up at where I know he’s sitting.
“I know this must be hard on you, but the Lieutenant says the doctors are looking at how to reverse what happened,” Mr. Trent whispers, setting a hand on my shoulder, “And what about school?”
“I can go back starting next week. I just need a schedule, supplies, and a 3-D map,” I grin at him.
“The school is going to insist you be guided around,” he reminds me.
“I can have Kevin or Andrew help me in between classes,” I counter.
“If you’re sure you can do it… Though I really hope you’ll take an art class still,” he says picking up and then setting down my sketchbook.
“Sorry to disappoint but I don’t think I will…” I whisper, faking a smile and turning my head towards the window, “I haven’t touched my sketchbook since the accident. It just hasn’t felt right.”
“Well the drawing you did of TJ in the van is fantastic; it looks just the same as it would if you had the use of your eyes,” he replies, standing up. “But that’s your choice, I can’t decide for you.”
He walks out, and I lean back on the bed. I close my eyes, even though there isn’t much of a point, and then sleep embraces me. The same dream I’ve had since the accident welcomes me, though lately it’s been in slow motion, and black and white.
I’m sitting beside mom in the front seat of the van. Dad and Sara are in the backseat sleeping. I know Mom had taken her meds earlier and we were gonna switch at the next rest stop.
Just then I see the highlights in the distance.
“David… Whatever happens, I love you all very much,” she whispers looking over at me, swerving into the headlights.
And then there I am, blood dripping down my face and the glare of the headlights staring me in the face. Finally the dream disappears, leaving me in the darkness of my thoughts.
“Hello Shay, you’re looking well.”
I snort, trying to stifle a laugh. “You call this looking well?”
“I thought your sister was the one who lived,” She replies coldly, walking away.
“Oh my…” Mrs. Trent whispers. “You’re still welcome to stay David, we have no objections.”
Stepping back, she welcomes us into the house. I can remember the layout pretty well. Well to be honest, I thought I remembered it. I make it about 5 feet in the door before I trip.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I rub the egg on the back of my head.
“What in God’s name did I just trip over?” I growl, wincing from the pain of hitting the floor.
“You tripped over a stool…” Mrs. Trent says, obviously confused. She like everyone else, doesn’t realize it yet.
“Mrs. Trent, we meant to tell you this but David is---“
“Blind.” I cut off the Lieutenant abruptly.
I hear her inhale at that, and Sam gasps somewhere behind me.
“I can’t see at all. I don’t normally trip, I just figured I knew where everything was and I didn’t,” I say, picking myself up.
“It was due to the accident, wasn’t it?” Mrs. Trent asks lightly. I can hear the sympathy in her voice, and honestly, I don’t need it.
“The last thing I saw was my own reflection, now all I see is never ending darkness,” I reply, picking up pens and pencils that had fallen out of my bag.
“Sam, could you---“
“Don’t say help me…” I cut her off, “I can still do normal stuff all on my own.”
“Then could you show David to his room…?” She says, obviously wanting me out of earshot.
Sam whispers, “This way,” and I hear her pad up the stairs. Following her, I pause at the top, in order to get my bearings, and then walk to where I can hear her shuffling around. Walking into the room, I immediately hear her close the door behind me.
“Okay Shay, I don’t believe for a second that you’re blind. Prove it. How many fingers?”
I feel her brush past me; judging by her voice and the flow of the air around her hand, take a wild guess.
“Two?”
“You aren’t blind,” she hisses, walking up to stand inches in front of my face. I can feel her breathe tickling my nose.
“Let me try and guess what you’re wearing then. My first guess is a blue collared shirt and jeans,” I challenge.
“Wrong.”
“Then it’s that red v-neck shirt you like so much and your black, torn jeans,” I throw out.
“Strike two.”
“Then I have no clue…” I say after pausing for a few seconds to think. “Have I proved myself now?”
“All black, and fine. I believe you… for now.” She replies, trying to walk past me.
Catching her hand, I spin her around to face me, and embrace her.
“Coming that close to death made me rethink everything Sam. I’m different now.”
“You’ll always be the same old David Shay to me,” she replies pulling away and walking out.
For the next few minutes I grope around, trying to familiarize myself with the room. After tripping and nearly falling on my face five or six times I finally sit down on the bed. Downstairs I know they’re talking about me… And then footsteps approach the room.
“Knock, knock. Can I come in?” I hear Mr. Trent laugh from in the doorway.
“You don’t have to ask…” I reply, rising from the bed.
“No, no, no. Don’t get up on my account. I just came up here to talk to you a bit. I know this must really be hard for you and I just want to help make it a little easier on you. So my first question is: How do you want us to treat you?” he asks sitting down on the chair by the bed.
“Just like you would treat me any other day. I just sometimes need a hand walking around so I don’t fall. I don’t need to be guided or anything. Just verbal notes, like if I’m going to trip over, say a stool.” I reply, looking up at where I know he’s sitting.
“I know this must be hard on you, but the Lieutenant says the doctors are looking at how to reverse what happened,” Mr. Trent whispers, setting a hand on my shoulder, “And what about school?”
“I can go back starting next week. I just need a schedule, supplies, and a 3-D map,” I grin at him.
“The school is going to insist you be guided around,” he reminds me.
“I can have Kevin or Andrew help me in between classes,” I counter.
“If you’re sure you can do it… Though I really hope you’ll take an art class still,” he says picking up and then setting down my sketchbook.
“Sorry to disappoint but I don’t think I will…” I whisper, faking a smile and turning my head towards the window, “I haven’t touched my sketchbook since the accident. It just hasn’t felt right.”
“Well the drawing you did of TJ in the van is fantastic; it looks just the same as it would if you had the use of your eyes,” he replies, standing up. “But that’s your choice, I can’t decide for you.”
He walks out, and I lean back on the bed. I close my eyes, even though there isn’t much of a point, and then sleep embraces me. The same dream I’ve had since the accident welcomes me, though lately it’s been in slow motion, and black and white.
I’m sitting beside mom in the front seat of the van. Dad and Sara are in the backseat sleeping. I know Mom had taken her meds earlier and we were gonna switch at the next rest stop.
Just then I see the highlights in the distance.
“David… Whatever happens, I love you all very much,” she whispers looking over at me, swerving into the headlights.
And then there I am, blood dripping down my face and the glare of the headlights staring me in the face. Finally the dream disappears, leaving me in the darkness of my thoughts.