My Word Is: Vision
***
Zoe sits in a corner, her hair over her face. From a first glance, you wouldn't think she's blind. A loner, maybe, but not having lack of sight. I watched her from behind my book everyday in the library, careful not to be caught. It took two months for my teacher to notice that it was taking me forever to read The Crucible. But I still watched.
Zoe never told us how she became blind, but her Mother told us she wasn't born blind. I tried to ask her sometimes, when we were alone, but she shied away from the subject.
It's funny because she acts like she can see everything. Like she can see the world around her, every blade of grass and every tree branch. Every cloud and all the waves in the river.
She was so aware of everything that- nobody thought she'd die. She was killed by a hit and run. They said she looked peaceful.
After the incident, I saw her. Everywhere. As a behind-the counter worker at Starbucks, someone lugging groceries down the sidewalk, she even waved at me in the hall.
Mom tried to take me to the doctor. He wouldn't help. I still saw her.
Then, one day, I stared at the sun. It would erase her from mt sight, I thought. Forever.
I kept seeing her, though. She laughed. She smiled. She told me I was with her now. I knew what it felt like now. But I didn't. I could see her. So I wasn't blind. She said I was the only person she could see.
So I still watch her in the library. And instead of slumping in a corner, she talks to me. And I don't care what people think. After all, I only have eyes for Zoe.
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