Through Your Eyes by Megsly COMPLETE, T - Z
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Through Your Eyes
Starting Over
~*~Bella~*~
The ground swirled in an array of colors below me. I could hear the gentle roar of the jets engines from
a few rows back, as well as the murmurs of other passengers. I leaned back into my seat and inhaled
deeply.
I loved the way colors swirled and mixed thousands of feet below me. Sometimes they created a
patchwork of patterns that took on the familiarity of my grandmother's quilts. And sometimes they
appeared to be part of a far off land that was filled with unknown adventures. As the cloud cover below
the plane increased and darkened I felt my heart jump awkwardly.
"This is for the best…" I kept inwardly repeating to myself over and over. It had to be for the best. It
was a new town where no one really knew me. My chances of living a somewhat normal life were
greatly increased by leaving Phoenix and moving to this tiny town of clouded rainfall. People wouldn't
be suspicious of my "talent" and I prayed they would see me for who I really was and not the freak
from Phoenix.
I searched the cabin of the plane for a better view as the craft began it's descent into the shrouded fog of
the clouds. I found myself staring out with the wonder of a small child who sat at a window about six
rows up.
Little droplets of water formed on the outside of the windows of the plane, trembling as air coursed
rapidly over the metal body of the large craft. The wheels touched the asphalt and the little droplets
jerked and sporadically danced around on the window as runway lights flew by and tiny rainbows were
cast from each droplet as lights reflected through the windows. I was always in awe of the beautiful
colors that were created upon mixing light and water in just the right way.
Everyone saw each aspect of the world differently. Nothing looked the same between two people. The
slightest variation in color between two different points of views was sometimes infuriating because
never once did I see the same beauty twice.
It was a sad fact of my gift. I loathed change and differences. I was envious of everyone else's ability to
blissfully see everything the same way every time. For once I wanted to be able to look down upon a
rose with my own eyes, and feel safe in the realization that I could come back in an hour and it would
still be the same vibrant red it was the first time I saw it.
Other passengers began to slide out of their seats and head for the exit. In my daze I hadn't heard the
pilots and stewardess announce that it was time to exit. I patiently waited for everyone else to leave the
plane then stood on shaky knees, my nerves a jumbled mess of tremors now.
From now on it was all a game. A game where I had to pretend I was something I was not and where I
had to play the part of the damsel in distress.
It was always frowned upon by my peers when they realized I was a strong person. They didn't like that
I was independent and didn't need a helping hand all the time. It made them uncomfortable. How could
someone with a disability as grave as mine could function on a higher level than those who had no
disabilities? It was then that the questions would form and the suspicions were raised. That is when the
rumors would be started.
I reluctantly picked up my cane as a stewardess approached me. "Ma'am may I get your bags for you?"
Reluctantly I nodded my head, keeping only my purse at my side. I took advantage of her close
proximity to use her eyes. I could see almost clearly as I walked down the narrow aisle of the plane,
tapping my cane on the floor in front of me.
I could see through her eyes but I was forced to view whatever she wanted to look at, and unfortunately
she kept throwing her eyes back at me and glancing at me up and down. I could almost imagine what
she was thinking and the pity rolling off of her gaze almost made me want to gag. The cane was
necessary to ensure that while she was tossing her gaze about, I didn't trip over any potential obstacle,
as well as I had to have it to keep up appearances.
I was so used to borrowing my mother's gaze, who always focused on what was in front of her. I felt
almost dizzy as I followed the stewardess through the terminal and down to the waiting area where she
helped me collect my bags and find a seat. Her eyesight wasn't horrible but she could certainly use the
added assistance of glasses or contacts to correct the faint blur surrounding the edge of her vision.
I pulled my mind away from hers as I sat down and pulled my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans.
In total darkness I used my sensitive fingers to search out the Braille on my phone so that I could dial
my father's number. He answered on the first ring.
"Hey Bells!" His voice rang out with excitement. I hadn't visited him in Forks for years, instead
choosing to meet in California and spend a couple of weeks together each summer. When I had called
to inform him that I needed a change of scenery and wanted to come live with him in Forks for my last
two years of high school the joy practically radiated through the phone lines.
He didn't ask many questions, just asked when he would need to pick me up and if there were any
special accommodations he would need to have installed at the house. He was a bit shocked when I
indicated that I didn't need any special provisions made for my move into his home.
"Hi dad," I responded softly. I could hear people shuffling around me in the airport and tried to drone
out the sounds of their footsteps. My sense of hearing was heightened due to my blindness and when I
chose to sit in my natural state, with nothing but blackness surrounding me, the sounds could drive me
crazy. "My plane just landed. I'm waiting in the terminal with my bags."
I gave him the terminal number and could hear his footsteps through the phone. "Ok Bells, I'll be there
in a few."
I closed my phone and sat silently, trying to avoid using someone else's eyes to see my father
approaching. Even though he knew I had a talent at getting around and not needing an abundance of
assistance, he didn't know the full extent of my talent. I knew that if he had an inkling of my actual gift
he'd be deeply bothered by it.
Charlie Swan was a simple man who lived life for the basic reasons. He loved his job, loved the
community he lived in, loved to go fishing, and loved me. His life didn't have many needs past that and
I know that complicating our relationship with the revelations of my gift would only complicate things
further.
I heard his footsteps approaching. They were hurried and excited. I stood, tapping my cane on the floor
around me to locate the exact location of my bags. I found them then turned back to face the sound of
my fathers approach. "Bells," He said quietly, incasing me in a brief but tight hug before releasing me
to grab my bags. "Is this all you brought?"
I nodded, "Yeah I didn't have too much to bring, just my clothes and a few knick knacks. Do you need
me to carry anything Dad?" I offered because though I knew I hadn't brought much, it was still enough
to make it awkward for my dad to walk through the airport.
"Nah," He stated and I heard the shuffling of bags around me as he got them situated. "You ready?"
I nodded and grabbed my purse and began walking through the throngs of people in the airport, tapping
my cane out in front of me as we walked down the gently sloping ramps throughout the airport.
I was constantly bumped into and felt my annoyance increasing exponentially. I finally gave in and
took advantage of my dad's crystal clear vision to maneuver around the airport. I continued to tap out
the area with my cane and stumbled a few times, usually whenever my dad would cast his glance to the
side to take a look at me. I knew he was thinking of how much I had changed since I had last seen him.
We made it into the parking lot and he kept glancing at me as he loaded my bags into the back of his
police cruiser.
I took the time to view myself through his eyes as he glanced at me repeatedly. I was a taller than I was
last time he had seen me, but by standards I was still rather short, standing around five foot four. I was
very slim, border lining skinny actually.
I hated my lack of curves, having that one feminine weakness affect my self esteem. My body was just
too boyish. My one true pride was my rich mahogany hair that reached to the middle of my back,
hanging in loose ringlets. Right now it was pulled back off of my face in a baseball cap. I was
incredibly pale, my red chapped lips standing out bluntly in comparison to my ivory complexion. The
dark glasses that I always wore hid my eyes from everyone. I myself tried to avoid looking at them as
time passed and their appearance changed.
When I was younger my eyes were a deep brown, like chocolate mousse. My pupils always had a light
gray film clouding them, indicating my impairment. I wasn't anticipating that grey cloud to spread over
my eyes as the years progressed. I knew now, without having to see behind the darkly tinted sunglasses,
that my entire eye was completely covered by the film.
The doctors were astonished at the progression of the clouds. They were uniform in color, no longer
was there a single trace of brown in my eyes. In fact there wasn't a single trace of color anywhere in my
eyes. They were just a blank grayish white. It was unearthly to see me without my glasses, and
generally the sight would repel people away from me, therefore I refused, no matter the cost, to ever
take my glasses off outside of the comfort of my own home.
"Bells?" I heard my dad call to me in confusion. I realized that he had completely loaded the car and
was holding the passenger door open for me.
"Sorry, dad," I mumbled as I jerked forward and crawled into the passenger seat with a little more grace
than I should have been able to. I heard Charlie's clothes shuffling as he slid into the driver's seat. The
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