Adopted by the Volturi, & I'm Blind

“Emi, wake up. Lily made chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite.” Michael woke me up using my nickname.
I shifted and got up. I was always dizzy in the morning for some reason. My eyes were still closed, I hated opening them, but I still rubbed the gunk from the inner creases of my eyes. I grabbed his sunglasses that were tinted from his bedside table and slipped them on. Swiftly jumping on his back, I latched my arms around him.
“Go piggy, go!!!” I said and pointed in the general direction of the door.
“Why do you insist on calling me a piggy?” he asked me.
“Because you eat like one.” I said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“True.” he said, and laughed.
I joined in as he made his way into the hallway, and down the stairs. He got me off his back and spun me around, upside down. Luckily, I hadn’t eaten yet so I didn’t throw up. Though I felt a little queasy.
“Put me down! I’m hungry!” I said, and begun to flail around and laugh at the same time.
“Fine, ruin my fun why don’t you.” Michael said, and I could practically hear him pout. Sometimes I felt like I was older than he was. He acted like a little kid a lot, sometimes it either annoyed me or amused me.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Fast Forward>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Trina and the others had already helped me get dressed. I was wearing a black skirt and a t-shirt that supposedly said, “I EAT BRAINS, YOU’RE SAFE” that was blue and had an alien on it. I sort of forgot how an alien looks like. I didn’t wear shoes a lot because I felt comfortable when I could feel the ground and not trip or something like that.
I was now currently playing in the backyard with Michael. We were playing tag, and even though we were both a little too old for it, we still played. Well, mainly because I always beat him. He was louder than a construction site.
“This is where the kids usually play and hang out.” I heard Lily’s voice from where I was running.
There was someone next to her that had a very nice, and soft heartbeat. Almost like the last notes of a lullaby. Weird.
“Who is that little girl over there? With the sunglasses?” the man asked. His voice was merry-like and was heavenly.
“That’s Maemi Rodriguez. She’s Japanese. Aged ten, and a half according to her, and she is blind. Due to an unfortunate event in her life, which I would rather not discuss.” Lily told the man.
“May I speak with her?” the man said.
“Of course, Aro.” she told him.
“Maemi, can you come over here please?” Lily said because even though I was far away, I heard her perfectly fine.
“Yes, Miss Lily?” I told her, and hugged while I did. Everyone was supposed to call her Miss Lily. She said is was a way to show respect to people who weren’t my age. I don’t know why though, she’s like Michael in a way. She’s older than me, but she acts younger than I do.
“This here is Mr. Aro, he wants to talk to you for a bit.” she told me.
“Okay then. Mister Aro, can you please give me your hand. I’d like to hold it so I know where you’re at, it’s embarrassing to talk to empty air. Hehehe.” I said, and giggled at the end.
“Why of course!” he said and took my hand in his. He gripped my hand a little tight, but soon relaxed. His hand was warm and soft. But he was a little ashy, like he needed lotion. Hopefully he doesn’t find out. Ha, if he did I’ll be in trouble.
“So, you’re name is Maemi. Do you know what is means?” he asked me.
“It means ‘honest child’, or that’s what Miss Lily told me.” I said, scrunching up my eyebrows.
“Ah, that’s correct. What’s your favorite color, if you have one?” he asked me.
“Hmmm, there’s just too many to choose from. But I guess I’d have to say green, it sounds cool and it’s pretty. What about yours?” I asked him.

Aro’s P.O.V.
“Mine is red, but green is my second favorite.” he said, even though he knew the last color she ever saw was red. Which was the color of her father’s eyes as he blinded her, and her twin’s blood. He felt sympathy for the little girl, as soon as she offered him her hand and as he saw her past. She was the one, he knew she could accept them. For what they were at least.
He couldn’t imagine harsh words coming out of her mouth, or a scowl painting her lips, or anything that wasn’t joyous on her face. A sweetheart.
They talked for what seemed hours, maybe even days, but was only an hour or so. All of that time she didn’t once take her hand from his. He didn’t understand why, but was he read her thoughts, he knew.
She thought that his hand was warm, soft, and his heartbeat was like a lullaby. But he was a vampire, and was supposed to be cold, hard, and dead for lack of a better word. There was something special about her if she could her and feel all of the things she did.
What was she?