Writing Anything is Possible

[Rhys Mayiessen]

[color=skyblue]This is just a story I wrote for a creative writing contest at school (I never did hand it in^^). Its nothing special but I didn't write fantasy cause I knew that the teachers probably don't like fantasy and would be baised.

I still remember the taunting and laughing every time I close my eyes to go to sleep. They laughed because I was different, because I am blind.
I can remember the car accident as clearly as if it was yesterday. We were driving along a dark road a night and came near some lights when a car thought it would make a left turn before we got there. It was too late to stop. The car rammed into the driver?s side, the side I was sitting on.
When I awoke I could not see a thing. At first I thought I was still inside the car, trapped. I squirmed and cried out when a soft voice told me I was in the hospital. I asked her what had happened to the lights and the nurse told me that they were on. That?s when the doctor came in a told me the news. I was blind.
I felt my world slip through my grasping fingers. My parents decided that it would be better for me if we moved away so I could start out fresh. The kids at school would always know me as blind. My parents were wrong. It just made things worse, far worse.
In classrooms and hallways at my new school I would hear snickering behind my back, and on occasion someone would stick their foot out in front of me just to see me fall to the floor. I was the joke of the school, the joke of the world.
On a day like any other day one of the ?popular? kids got up the courage to trip me. I fell to the floor hard, I couldn?t take it anymore, I cried. That only encouraged their laugher and taunting, calling me a crybaby. I then felt strong hands lift me up to my feet. He asked if I was all right and I almost cried out in joy. A person cared about me and didn?t taunt me.
He walked with me down the hallway, catching me when people tripped me. Soon they took it out on him but he took it all in stride, like everyone was beneath him and their taunts held no meaning. He was my saint. He was my savior.
For the first night since the accident that deprived me of my sight I did not cry. Even though I was still laughed and taunted at, someone had stood up for me and walked with me. That night I decided that I would not let that happen to me anymore. I would stick up for myself and for my first friend since the accident.
The first step for me was to walk with no help, without my walking stick. He supported me all the way, preventing me from bumping into wall and falling over chairs. I got frustrated and felt that I would never be able to learn to walk by myself but he told me to never give up. Even if the whole world turned their back on me I would still go on.
I used my other senses to guide me, to make up for the sense I lost. My hearing intensified, to my ire, for I could now hear the laughter from farther away. He was beside me everyday, supporting me in silence by just walking with me through the hallways. I felt as though I could lift my head proudly and face everyone, even though I couldn?t see them.

Lol sorry if its a little long...this isn't even all of it...if anyone wants to read the rest I'll put it up.[/color]

[Epsilon]

Wow, good point anything is possible. I read the story and it was a good one, should have turned it in though...Anyways the style, and plot, also the fact of him going blind it make for a great story. If you do put the rest up I'll be reading it.

[Rhys Mayiessen]

[color=indigo]Lol I still couldn't put up the rest...it was still too long...here's some more though if you want to read it...

I used my other senses to guide me, to make up for the sense I lost. My hearing intensified, to my ire, for I could now hear the laughter from farther away. He was beside me everyday, supporting me in silence by just walking with me through the hallways. I felt as though I could lift my head proudly and face everyone, even though I couldn?t see them.
Soon after, I learned to walk by myself. Most of the laughing and taunting stopped, and some people even became friends with me. They weren?t true friends though; they didn?t accept me for who I was like he did.
I felt like I was normal again, almost. A few, the popular, still made a game out of making fun of me, tripping me. Who could trip me the most was their favorite. I found a way to hear them before they tripped me though they still managed to even overcome that.
Some people would even begin to stand up for me, after they actually came to know my personality, after they came to know my pain. Even some of the teachers that used to ignore me began to realize that I was a human being and should be treated like one.
One horribly fateful day the ?popular? kids decided they had had enough of me. They wanted to deflate my courage and my pride. They surrounded me in an empty hallway and began to push me around the circle. They laughed when someone pushed me too hard and I fell to my knees.
They wanted me to cry but I would not give them that satisfaction. There was no way I was going to lose face again. When they decided to trip me I know that I could let them do that either. I had gained too much recognition to let them do it to me now. I concentrated on the noise around me; I could hear the scrape of a foot across the linoleum floor before the foot crossed my path.
I walked along, lifting my foot whenever one of theirs came near until I made it out of their cruel little circle. With my dignity in tacked I walked out of the hallway, my head held high.
I was elated. I had finally stood up for myself. I had to tell him the good news. I thought he would be so proud of me. I walked down the hallway towards his locker. I couldn?t hear his voice but I assumed that he didn?t have anyone near him to talk to.
I called out his name and heard the quiver of excitement in my voice. I felt my heart skip a beat when one of his friends answered me instead. I asked him of my friend?s whereabouts and heard the surprise in his voice when he asked me if I already didn?t know. I shook my head, unable to breathe. I could tell that something was wrong by the tone of his voice. In a subdued tone he told me that yesterday after school a gang surrounded him. He tried to get away but it was useless. Some of them held him still while the others beat him senseless. When the police found him they rushed him to the hospital but it was too late. My friend was brain dead.
I turned around and walked away so his friend couldn?t see the tears that flowed freely from my sightless eyes. I knew that it was my fault he was in the hospital, worse off than dead. I also knew who did it to him. I felt that I should be in his place.
That night I asked my mom if she could take me to the hospital. I knew she understood my pain for she had seen the miraculous transformation in me with her own eyes.
When I arrived at the hospital I felt the tears trickle down my face. I wasn?t sure if I could face him, if I could ?see? him in that condition. I finally made up my mind to go so the nurse led me to his room and left me alone with him.
At first I wasn?t even sure if anyone else was in the room. Then I heard his faint breathing and the soft beep of the machine that was keeping him alive.
I felt my way across the room and sat down on a seat beside the bed. I groped around until I found his hand. It was cold and lifeless and if I didn?t hear his soft breathing I would have thought him dead.
Later, I heard the door open and the nurse tell me that visiting time was over because he needed his rest. I almost laughed at the irony. Rest! He didn?t even know I was there beside him. Instead of laughing though, I nodded my head and followed her out the door.
The next day at school I felt as though I had lost the will to live. There was no point to life, not without him. I walked the hallways with my head bowed and my feet dragged across the floor as I walked. The popular felt my defeat and depression and fed off it like leeches. I again heard the snickering and taunting behind my back but it didn?t matter anymore, nothing mattered.
If I had actually paid attention and was awake from my stupor, I would have noticed that some still stood up for me like real friends. I would not eat or continue to learn Braille; I felt that I had no need for it anymore, not where I was going.[/color]

[Epsilon]

Wow! This story's good! I love reading this story, it's just great, also kinda touching, that is a little. I still love it.:D