Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8: BLIND

When Kat was young she always hated being blind. Who wouldn't, really? She missed seeing the trees sway in the wind, she missed watching the sun and moon rise. She missed wishing on stars, seeing her friends, but most of all she missed being able to look at people and tell who they were. Now she had to be careful to hear who they were. The problem was when several people talked at the same time she never could know who was around. A year went by and still her ears could not separate who was who. Her and her family had to move several times to find a house where the curb was not dangerous, where there was no stairs, and where railings could be placed nearly everywhere. Her parents were always by her side, but all she wished was that she could see them one last time.
Then there was a day where, when she sat up out of bed, she saw. It wasn't with colors, but with simple white lines, outlining everything around her. It showed her the small bed-side table on her right, showed her where the walls in her room were, where her parents where in the kitchen, where the hinges of her door were, doorless.
But just as quickly as it had come, it left. The hope remained in her chest though, and she got out of bed, and ran. First time in nearly two years. She ran through the house, every step causing everything to be outlined in white. Fuzzy, true, but it was still a sight. And she ran to her shocked mother, embraced her, and told her everything.
“I can see, mamma!”
“What's that, honey?” Her mother asked, looking at her father.
“I can see! Everything is outlined when I move.” She untangled herself from her mother's arms and stood again. “I bet I can tell what hand you're holding up!”
Her mother looked at her father, shrugged, and held up her right hand. Kat stomped her foot.
Nothing.
She stomped her foot again.
Nothing. It was gone.
Katara started to feel what she would if she could cry. Her throat was dry, her mouth went curved down, “Bu-but it was...w-was wor-working a m-moment ag-ago.” Katara dry sobbed. Her mother embraced her, stroking her hair, “Ssh..shh, it was just a dream baby. It was just a dream.”
Katara had never felt so blind.
***
The next morning, after waking up, the same thing happened. The white outlines were there, over everything. Her mother in the back, her father in the garage. But this time, with her young, four-year old mind, she decided to experiment. Why was it happening now, but not when she stomped her foot?
She stood up and walked around. The outlines where there. Then she stopped, and the lines vanished. She stomped her foot, and nothing happened. She walked around again, the lines appeared. She saw her mother wipe her brow from the sweat of the summer sun, and her father wipe his hands with a cloth. So it was when she walked, not when she stomped her foot. But why? How come?
She ran to tell her mother.
***
Katara sat at a small desk, alone, fidgeting with something in her hand. It was a year after she had told her mother what she could do, how she could see. The teachers here had begun to train her, show her what she could do and how she could control it. It was hard and her muscles often cramped from the exercises, but she was progressing. She could now see details of any object, living or not, up to seventeen feet. Beyond that it was black. She never focused on the blackness of her vision.
The fact that she couldn't see when she wasn't moving was still and issue, however. Only if people moved across the room, or walked to a different spot than their original could she know who they were when not moving. But every day she got better and every day so did her mother.
“Good morning, Karatra. What's that you got there?” said her teacher, walking into the room, his own vibrations showing her the tight ring on his finger, his strong chin and tilted nose.
“I don't know.” she replied, feeling over her toy as if it would help. “A toy car?”
“Very good. I'm going to place a few toys up here and you're going to tell me which one is a car, alright?”
Katara nodded blindly and set her car down to roll off the desk and fall with a dull thump. After some time her teacher finally moved so that she sensed him and he nodded slowly.
“Alright-wait, Katara, stay seated. Because we're working on sending out vibrations today, understand? Good. Now, place your feet on the ground. No-don't stomp. Good, now focus on the small vibrations already in the ground.”
“Like waht?” squeaked little Katara.
“Like me moving my hand, my mouth. Even my heart pumping. They all affect my entire body in some way, which affects the ground.”
Katara nodded, slowly, “Ookaay.”
“Can you see me?”
“No.”
Her teacher sighed, “Right. Of course, can you sense me?”
“Sorta.” Katara rubbed her temples, a headache already in the making.
“Like what?”
“I can sense your hand and mouth move. Not your heart beat. But everything else is really...fuzzy. Like, when someone needs glasses.”
And so went the day. She found, at the end of the day, that she really hated headaches, and that whenever her teacher asks, “which toy is the car,” that she should first guess “all of them are cars.” Her father came to pick her up on his way back from work, near nine.
Of course, she wouldn't know.
She felt the car come down the road, stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. The car stopped before her and she walked around the car and quickly climbed into it while the outlines remained.
The car rumbled down the road.
She hated riding in cars, though she would never admit it. Her senses went crazy, making a headache swell up badly if there wasn't one already. She'd see where she was moments ago, or see ahead of the car moments before she went there, or both. Sometimes her senses were so off that she would think that they were lost. In a rumbling car, she could never trust her senses.
The years dragged by endlessly. She grew used to the headaches that bombarded her mind each time that she stretched her senses and worked through them. She grew in height a her chest started to swell. She came into her class one day with a few other students, a shock to her, since she hadn't had comrades or play-mates, or anyone her age since she went blind.
“What the-?” Katara had started, doing a double check of the room as she stood in shock.
“These are your fellow students, Katara. Why don't you take your seat? We'll do introductions soon.”
“No offense, but I think we're old enough to go on without the name game.” A student pipped up. Katara's senses washed over him, he was her age, if not a tad bit older, a skinny kid and-
“Sit down, Katara.” Mr. Less said bitterly, annoyed, she could tell, by his posture, the way he held himself, the pressure he put on the ground.
That was on thing she had always kept to herself. She could read emotions of people by their posture. It was quite easy, actually.
Katara nodded and silently took her seat.
“Today, class...” Mr. Less droned on, while a kid had some sort of spitting problem next to her.
“Psst!”
Well, that was a horrible snake impression.
“Psst!”
The kid was facing her now. Why? Was he trying to get his nasty spit all over her?
“Hey!” the kid hissed.
“What?” Katara grumbled. First, he tries to spit on her, second, he tries to make sure she can't hear what Mr. Less was saying. What next?
“What's with the cloth over your eyes? How can you see?” he whispered. Why was he whispering?
“Cause I'm blind-” Katara said in her normal voice, making no attempt to whisper.
“Katara!” Katara was still staring in Mr. Less' direction, and cocked an eyebrow over her sash.
“What?”
“I'm trying to teach here.”
“Yes, I know, that's why I come here every day. That's what we pay you to do.”
There were laughs around the room.
What the heck? It was only the truth, she thought, no need to-
“Katara, D'd like you to stop back sassing me and pay attention.”
“I am paying attention, Less. You are standing up there, holding the chalk in your hand-careful, you're ganna break it-oops, told you. And you're really angry. See? I'm payin' tons of attention.”
“Oh my God, how do you know all that when you can't see?” the kid next to her asked, mystified.
“I-” she began, but Less threw up his hand, pointed his finger to the door, and shouted, “Office, now!”
Something swelled up in her, a low growl coming out of her throat. “I'm no dog.” she hissed, the outlines over everyone suddenly becoming sharp, clear, detailed.
People around the room gasped and she could no longer feel her toes or hands.
“Katara, sit down.”
Something was wrong. This man..this teacher...was wrong. He wasn't...good. She didn't know how she knew, why he wasn't good, all she knew was that she had to get out.
And that's when she first changed. As she saw those men with those bags, those guns, waiting outside. It infuriated her. Did he think she was so blind as to not sense those outside, paces away from the door and-
Oh my God. She realized, They aren't even...standing...on the ground...they're...flying!? She snarled, threw her head in the direction of Less, her shoulder inches higher than the desk next to her as she prowled closer to him.
“And you thought I was going to just step outside!?” she snarled, her voice strange and unfamiliar. “Thought I'd just give myself up!?”
“What are you talking about!?” Less said hastily, holding his ground as Katara circled him, predator instincts taking over.
“Those men outside. Those people, come to take me. Take me where!?” she barked, her teeth snapping at his knee, causing him to fall back. The students were all dead silent. One stood up quickly, opened the door, saw the flying men, and screamed.
“She's right!” the girl cried. “They're right outside!” The flying men suddenly burst out of the nearest door outside to escape.
Shock overcame Mr. Less, and he lay there, Katara pinning him by vines that wrapped around his wrists then sank into the ground. Katara snarled, “You monster.”
And then she ended him. As people screamed and ran to get away, while others stood in terrified shock, she ended his life, while his arms flailed, his breath lessened, until she sensed his heart beat its last beat. When she stepped away, she felt dizzy. Someone had entered the room, had gathered the runaway students and one by one they all fell down, limp. Were they sleeping?
Then Katara's body went heavy, her chest making it hard to breathe.
“Who are you?” she gasped. The man smiled slightly, “I will make them forget. I will dispose of his body. And you will have a clean slate. But you must always remember this day.”
Then her head hit the tile and she could remember no more.


(fairly short chapter, but this'll have to do for a while since i'll be quite busy for some time. And i'll be going through this chapter and editing it cause i haven't even read through it yet. XD)