Hello my readers. Welcome to a new plot bunny! I hope I can continue this story, so any ideas are welcome. Enjoy, and leave me a review and/or hate mail, either way hit me up!

The problem with being blind, aside from the obvious, is the fact that you can't take anything at face value. You always have to over-analyze, because you can't see peoples expressions, or their body language. The upside to that, however, is that people can almost never control their voices. They can't keep the emotion out of their voice without an extreme amount of control, and that is exactly how I have survived so far. Unfortunately, it seems I won't for very much longer.

My mother has already expressed her sincerest regrets at uprooting us and moving somewhere new. Somewhere strange, foreign. Lima, Ohio is our destination. A small town, whereas we were in the city of Springfield, Illinois. Lima is a small town, I was told. Small and conservative. My mothers' way of saying I should hide who I am, yet again. I sigh and think that my mother has just simply gone off her rocker and into the sea of insanity with this decision. The fact that her job basically holds all the "charity" they've given us over our heads to get us to move was, ultimately, the deciding factor. Without this job, my mom would have hospital bills to the moon and back, with no way to pay for them. Not to mention all the accessories we got to help with my condition. A plan-free paid for voice activated phone, synced to my voice only. Hearing aids that help improve my hearing so I can travel around without getting hurt or lost.

Yes all these things were given as a sign of trust and gratitude to her years of service. Or so the company told the reporters.

The car pulls to a stop while I'm stuck in my head, and I grunt when my mom asks if I need help. I clamber out of the car and place my feet on concrete. I shut the door, then wait as the robotic voice from the hearing aids tells me what's directly in front of me. Its high tech and annoying, but has allowed me to adjust well to crowds and busy places.

"It looks wonderful. They really out-did themselves with this place." My mom says, a tad too joyfully to be believable. She grabs my hand and leads me inside, and begins to describe it to me once we enter. I turn off the aids, because it's saying the exact same things in my ear. I listen to my mom go on for a little bit, then the U-haul guys come in and she starts telling them where to put things. I turn the aids back on and go up the stairs. You would think they would be a little more mindful of the fact that I actually AM blind, assholes, I think frustratingly. There's a bathroom down a long hall, and two bedrooms on each side. The master is on the right, so I choose the left one and wait for the muscle guys to bring my stuff in.

For the next five hours, we get situated in our new house. My room is done by the end of the day, the only thing aside from a bed are my black nightstand, a desk in the corner, and two bookshelves on the far wall. The first bookshelf is full of regular books, while the second is half full of books translated into braille. I know downstairs is a box full of audio books waiting to be unpacked, but I bypass said box and go to the kitchen, where my mom made me a sandwich. She talks about the positive things that the move will have given us, but to be honest I just tuned her out. When she asked if I was okay, I just say tired and go back upstairs to my new bedroom and lay on the bed for a good two hours before sleep finally claims me.

The next two weeks go by in a blur. It's a flurry of unpacking, appointment making, and work plans for my mom. Currently, a week before the high school starts, we are sitting in the principal's office, and my mom is negotiating with the man behind the desk.

"I am sorry Ms. Shawn, but I don't quite understand why your daughter has to be in public school. There are plenty of certified home-schooling teachers we could contact for you." The man, Mr. Figgins, says.

My mom's voice quietens, but I've heard her say it already so much that her statement doesn't even gain recognition from me.

"My daughter has already given up too much. She has already been ostracized because of her condition, and if she were to go to school, like a normal student, would lessen the effect of her peers certain reaction."

"She is not normal, Ms. Shawn. Forgive me, but it is the truth. I can't watch her like a hawk all day just to see if she gets around. And what of her classes? Surely studying and notetaking will be near impossible-"

"That is already covered. We have the proper documentation for her to be allowed certain required technologies to cover for her being impaired." There is rustling as she pulls out the papers. I decide this is the time I should speak up.

"I can take care of myself. I have lived with this for years, and I lived in a far larger town than this one. I was able to navigate the city just fine, I'm sure I can handle a few new hallways."

The man sighs, then reluctantly relents. "You must understand, that I nor the school is responsible for any type of accident or injury that the staff did not cause. She is on her own, and outside of certain grievances she is going to be treated as a regular student."

"We understand completely, thank you sir."

I didn't think that possibly I had pushed too much for this, that I might be making a huge mistake by pursuing a public high school career till we were back to our new home.