What I Wouldn't Give to Be Whole

"Artie," my brother called me. My name is Arthur, damn it! my subconscious cried out to me, but for Samuel's sake, I silenced it.

"Yes?" I spoke through gritted teeth, my fists clenched over my covers, all I could do to avoid causing physical damage to something or someone, though most probably myself. I didn't have good aim, but who could expect me to?

"Today's the day," he said, imitating cheer, an emotion that I could just barely detect was false. With every fiber of my being, I dreaded the words I would soon hear. Don't you dare say it... I could hear the voices in my head threatening and pleading, but nothing could stop the inevitable from exiting Samuel's mouth.

"Public school, here we come."

A loud silence echoed through that morning. Someone else might not have heard it, but it overwhelmed me because hearing was the only thing I could do. I heard spoons not clinking against cereal bowls, floors not creaking when I walked across them, and Samuel's car's engine not roaring as he started it.

I hated cars. I hated them because I would never drive one. I hated the world for having that advantage over me, for having every possible advantage over me. I hated how helpless I was, how easily anyone could just snatch me up off the street; catch me off-guard (too easy; I had no guard), keep me quiet (I would sure yell a lot—it was my only defense—but how was I to know for certain whether there was even anyone around to hear me?), and drive off with me in their passenger's seat. From there, it would be impossible for me to tell a left turn from a right turn, or how far I'd gone. Cars were magic to me, teleportation; I entered the car at home, and when I got out of it, I was somewhere else—in this case, my new high school.

As he led me into the building, Samuel said nothing. He may have spoken, or he may not have, but the silence I heard drowned him out, so I offered silence in return.

Suddenly, voices broke through my silence, possibly more voices than I'd ever heard. I couldn't understand any of them, but it was pretty apparent they were staring at Samuel and me. People were predictable. Where there was a sixteen-year-old boy dragging a seventeen-year-old boy by the hand through a maze of hallways, there were sets of analytical eyes following. Stop looking at me! I wanted to scream. Stop judging me! I'm not an idiot! I'm not whatever you think I am just because I'm blind!

That should have been obvious, really, but it wasn't. Everywhere I went (which wasn't many places, considering), people thought less of me based on nothing but my condition. I hated being the one everyone thought they knew without ever once giving me the chance to prove that I wasn't as much of a moron as they assumed.

"Cheer up, Artie," Samuel called me that childish name again. It wasn't fair; he grew out of Sammy when he was eleven, and yet, he continued to call me Artie. I was months short of adulthood, but I was still treated like a child, which was why it pained me so much to have my kid brother playing seeing-eye dog for me. I got no respect from anyone, and while it was unfair to me, it was unfair to Samuel to have a potentially normal life snatched from underneath him so that he could babysit me. Now that our parents were dead, I declared my independence, insisting that I was no one's problem but my own, but Samuel wouldn't listen. Upon realizing that we would have to go to public school, Samuel promised to help me in every way possible, at least for the first couple of weeks. I was torn between my hunger for independence and my knowledge that there was no way I could get by without him, but I was not completely naive, so the latter won. I made Samuel also promise that as soon as I dismissed him, he would live a normal life, something I never would.

"We've got geometry first hour," Samuel informed me, hoping for a spirited response that never came. He added, "You love math..." as if he had to remind me.

"We?" I questioned him. "But you hate math."

"I had them give me the same schedule as you," Samuel confessed. "Otherwise you'd have been made to walk around with some stranger of an aide, and I'm pretty sure neither of us wanted that. I hope you're not unhappy with me."

Never with you, Samuel, said my inner thoughts, and I was about to repeat their words when I crashed into a body and fell down on top of it.

"Sorry," I murmured, frantically reaching for something to help me up. The first thing I felt my fingers close around was a breast, which I quickly removed my hand from and immediately began to feel my face get hot. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot."

"I'm right here, Artie," I heard Samuel's voice from above me. I reached up and felt him take my hand and pull me up. Once on my feet, I heard him say to the unfortunate girl I'd landed on top of, "Excuse my brother. He can't see."

There was a long pause then in the conversation, until Samuel spoke again. "That's strange..."

"What is?" I asked him.

"I apologized to her, but she just left, like she didn't understand me or... Why are you blushing?"

"I... um... grabbed her breast," I mumbled as softly as possible.

Samuel laughed, which set off my anger again.

"That isn't funny!" I shouted. "I scared her speechless! She was so mad she wouldn't even accept our apologies!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, Art," he said. "Let's just go to class."

Calm down?! At that moment, my subconscious went mad. One day, you're going to get married, but I'm going to be doing this to girls all my life! I don't need you rubbing it in! What, do you think I'm some kind of joke? I'll show you just how serious I am.

I wanted to run away and never look back. But where would I go? And how would I get there? I sighed. I hated being useless.

Reluctantly, but with no other choice, I forgave Samuel and allowed him to take me to geometry class.

Maybe one day... I'll be free.