i never was an early riser, and waking late seemed always wiser. until one day the sun was gone, but still i woke without a yawn.

i woke up, didn’t even open my eyes, and i knew something was wrong. then it hit me. it’s my eighteenth birthday. i’ve been dreading this day. i cant handle change. i hate change. i’ve learned to live without sight, why begin to see now? i open my eyes, and everything is so, bland. i knew i would hate it, and i do. on my journey down the stairs, i realize that this is much easier. “mom,” “happy birthday, laura!” “thanks mom, but i hate sight.” she frowns. “why? i love it.” “yeah well i’m not you. i thought it would be colorful. that’s what they taught me in elementary.” her eyes widen. “oh, it is colorful. you’re colorblind. oh, no, no, no.” “i cant see color?” i almost screech. “no, you cant.” “can i get it fixed?” “no, you cant.”

“i think i just met the happiest person in the world!” they all say once they meet her. that’s only because they don’t know the whole person. they don’t know that she has depression, or she’s bipolar, or she isn’t happy at all. they just know the first impression, but first impressions are often wrong.

“jerry, no one has been following you. you’re schizophrenic, and this is a result of it.” i said to him. “this is not my imagination, katie. this is real. i’ve seen him.” he tries to explain. “no, you haven’t, because he isn’t real. you’ve gotta understand, it’s an episode.” i tried to reason. “i haven’t had an episode in years. i take my meds everyday and i haven’t had anything else happen.” he says to me. “it’s an episode. just go get your coffee and come back. we’ll talk about it then.” i say, fed up. “fine,” he exclaims, and walks out the door. my schizophrenic brother is having an episode and swears it’s real. guess what? it’s tuesday.

“hey, jerry. are you okay? call me back.” “jerry, i’m worried. call me back.” “i’m sorry. you aren’t having an episode. this is real, and if you come home i can protect you. love you, call me back.”

“mom? jerry isn’t answering his phone. i’m a little worried.” “has he been taking his meds?” “yes. he said he was being followed, but i thought it was just an episode. i feel terrible. it’s my fault.” “katie, we don’t even know if anything bad has happened. even if something has, it isn’t your fault. he’s a small, young male. he’s a perfect target, okay? not your fault.” “okay, yeah. i’m gonna put in a missing persons report.” “not yet, wait another hour or two. if he still isn’t there, then put in a missing persons report.” “okay,”

“hi, i’d like to file a missing persons report.” “his name is jerry rogers, he’s 5’8, about 180 pounds. caucasian, cropped blonde hair, brown eyes, but his right one is half green, and his right front tooth is chipped.” “i last saw him about three hours ago.” “thank you so much.”

“you found him? where?” “um, yes. of course.”

as i walk into the hospital, i realized something. what if it is actually jerry? “katie rogers?” a lady asks. “yes, that’s me.” i smile. “follow me,” she recommends, and stands from her desk. we go down flights of stairs, through many doors, and down many hallways. we then enter a room labeled ‘unclaimed bodies’ i shiver. the lady opens the door, and a chill hits me. i see at least 15 bodies. she leads me to a male, and i look at him. eyes, and mouth closed. this man is beaten so badly, i would never be able to tell if it was him if i stood here forever. “can i.. open his eyes?” i look to the lady. she nods. i open the left eye. a blood vessel is busted. badly. i open the other one. it’s brown, and half is green. no, this isn’t my brother. “his mouth?” i ask quietly. “of course. anything you need to do to identify him.” i silently open his stiff mouth. his front right tooth is chipped. i feel a tear roll down my cheek. the lady sees it. “we’re doing everything we can to identify the cause of death, and the police are doing everything they can to identify the killer.” and then, the most obvious thing that i’ve missed all along. he was murdered.

“but i don’t want to go to bed, the man with no eyes is waiting for me in the closet!” anna exclaimed in her typical 5-year-old fashion. “anna, there is no man in you closet. especially not one with no eyes.” her mom reasoned. “but he’s there! i saw him last night! he is there!” anna yelled. “anna. i’ll check your closet. you have to go to bed.” her dad offered. “okay, fine.” anna finally gave in. they all walked to her room hand in hand. while her mom, stacy, tucked her into bed, her dad, clarke, opened the closet. “see, there’s nothing there. good night anna, i love you.” “i love you too daddy.” anna said, relieved. “i love you, anna.” her mom said. “i love you too mommy.” her parents walked out of her room. seconds after they entered the living room, they heard anna scream. “anna!” the both exclaimed simultaneously. they ran to her room, and saw an empty bed. they saw the back of a mans head. he turned, and he had no eyes. how could he have seen anna? i’m his arms was the little girl that was right. hand over mouth, eyebrows pinched, tears rolling from her waterline.

i hate corn mazes. why did i come? i can hear the pattering of feet behind me, and it doesn’t sound like only two. i cant seem to catch up with myself. ‘he’s after me, run, faster!’ is all my mind seems to be able to think. my mind can’t keep up with my feet. they’re getting closer. they’re right behind me. then, i hear a terrible cracking sound. my hair and scalp seem to magically get wet. then all my mind can seem to think is, ‘i have a terrible headache.’ then the ground is pressed against my slowly cooling body.