"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

-William Shakespeare

There she stood, at her locker as she was helped to get her books. I couldn't help but look at her. She had this way about her where you couldn't help but stare.

She was always there; here for as long as I could remember.

Not ever really trying to be at the forefront of a picture but never in the background. She wasn't exactly easy to forget about. Or ignore.

No matter how hard she tried to hide, attention always seemed to find her and not always in a good way.

We were only two weeks into our junior year and it was already more than clear she wanted to fade away as she hid behind her cousin's lead.

But, I think it's hard for her and strangely I think I can understand that about her. I think we have that in common; wanting to fade away into the background.

She stood holding tightly onto her walking cane. Her reddish-brown hair long and down around her, her large dark black glasses covering her eyes.

I don't talk to her. And, if I did, I'm not sure what I'd say.

With the help of a girl she was lead away from her locker and to her next class. Everyone moving around her as if this were the zombie apocalypse and they would get infected if they got too close.

I closed my locker as she walked past me.

I mostly kept to my friends and she mostly keeps to herself and her cousin who helped lead her around.

From time to time she'll talk to teachers but never anyone else, never to other students. I think it was stupid the way everyone was strangely afraid of her.

I began to walk to my next class as the halls began to empty. I walked into the classroom and took my seat as I looked out the window I sat by.

I wasn't afraid of Emma.

She was just like any other person, just... blind.

I was more afraid of what talking to her would mean.

In middle school, she'd constantly got tripped and knocked down in the halls. Once someone even stole her walking stick. When people would mess with her they would ask if she could cry, if blind kids could cry.

When people would pick on her I never liked to stay around long enough to find out, when I saw the principal rounding the corner or a faculty member I knew it was my cue to leave.

I probably could have helped her. I could have stopped people from messing with her. But, sometimes it's easier to pretend like you didn't see anything. Or at least that's what I tried to tell myself.

When high school started I could only catch glimpses of her in the cafeteria, rarely in the halls, or even in the courtyard when the weather was nice enough to go out. I only ever saw her in the halls because my locker happens to be only a few down from hers.

I know I shouldn't but I couldn't help but think about her sometimes. There was just something too interesting about her.

Even when I was alone in my room painting or down in the art classroom drawing before our first period, running paintbrush bristles over the canvas for each stroke, I would find myself thinking of her.

Or when I found myself in my best friend Devon's room with several grams of weed and a six-pack of beer my train of thought would slowly turn back to her, to Emma.

I wanted to paint her. I wanted to draw her outline and color it in-

"Hey, bro," Devon said snapping me out of my melodramatic train of thought and took his seat next to me. I simply nodded in response as I turned back to look out the window.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I wanted to dr-

Levi turned around from his seat in front of me and flicked the side of my head. I rolled my eyes before kicking the back of his seat.

"You still coming over after school?" Devon asked me as he threw a small ball of paper at Levi.

"When do I not?" I asked back sarcastically as Levi turned around and threw a paper ball back at Devon, hitting him right on the forehead. I snorted back a laugh.

I joined in and soon we were all playing around throwing balls of paper at each other. It's got to the point that the teacher said he would kick us out of class if we didn't stop.

After that class became pretty boring. The worst parts of classes always being when the teacher taught.

Devon and Levi were my closest friends. I've been friends with Devon since pre-k and Levi joined us back in middle school. My other best friend Michael didn't have this class.

Other than that I don't have many friends.

Emma's friend count was pretty low too. As I said, she never talked to anyone other than teachers and her cousin.

Although I had seen her and her cousin talking to either Devon or Levi a couple of times last year. I couldn't remember which. It was back when one of them dated Emma's cousin who's name I didn't care enough to remember.

I mean Emma didn't ask to be blind, no one does. The world is an unfair place.

I sighed as I caught myself thinking about her again.

By the time class was over and I was out of class I only saw the back of a familiar head of reddish-brown hair round the corner.

Dang, I missed her again.

Published: 5/16/20

a/n: And so, We begin again.