There was a strange comfort in not knowing what people looked like, in not knowing the appearance of society's standards. But all of that was about to change.

"This is your alarm for 8:00 AM," my cellphone chirps.

I keep my eyes closed just a little longer, not wanting to know what vision is like.

"Happy 18th Birthday, Jeremy," my AI assistant chimes from my nightstand.

"No," I groan, burying my face into my pillow.

"Jeremy! Come downstairs," my mom yells.

I grumble, roll out of bed, change clothes, and maneuver my way downstairs all while keeping my eyes closed. My trusty cane and guide dog lead the way.

"Jeremy, honey, you can see now. You don't need your cane and Cisco can just be a regular dog now," my mom says, trying to pull my cane from my hand.

"Mom, no. I know not being able to see has its downsides but I prefer liking people for who they are instead of judging them based on their appearance first and as soon as I open my eyes all of that is going to change," I cry.

"Sweetheart, no it won't."

"How do you know? You couldn't feel and dad couldn't smell. That didn't exactly drastically affect how people viewed you or how you viewed other people," I say, opening my eyes for the first time out of frustration.

The woman I assume is my mother stands in front of me dumbfounded. Crystal blue eyes staring up at me with blonde hair framing her face perfectly. Society's ideal, so I've heard from my best friend, one of the few that can't hear.

My best friend has told me all about colors and described things in such depth that I never needed to see. I never wanted to. I still don't want to but I have to.

"I know what it's like to be discriminated against, Jeremy. Do you even know how hard it was raising a child that couldn't see? One of the rarest losses. You have no idea the looks of shame and disgust I got," she screams, tears filling her eyes.

"And you have no idea what it felt like to have people talk about you behind your back thinking you can't hear. You have no idea what it's like being singled out because you have to have an aid to get around. You have no idea what I went through," I growl lowly before turning back up the stairs to my room.

I slump down on my bed and grab my phone typing out a text to my best friend.

"I miss you. Any chance you can get away and meet me?" I ask.

"Yeah. Are you okay? I know it's your birthday. How's being able to see finally?" She responds.

"I hate it."

I shove my phone in my pocket and look around my bland room. I grab my hiking bag and use the rope from it to climb out my window. Now that I can see getting around is easier but I still hate the idea of falling for someone's look before getting to know them.

Once I'm at the overlook, I sit and wait. Closing my eyes to better listen for the crunch of the leaves under Paula's feet. Basking in the sunlight on my face, I wait for what feels like hours. I finally hear a twig snap and turn my head, instinctively opening my eyes.

"Hey you," she signs, noticing my eyes on her.

I simply wave back and wait for her to sit. I watch her thick legs jiggle as she walks and her black hair practically floating in the wind. She gently sits on the ground beside me forcing me to face her.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"I hate knowing that now I'm going to judge someone based on their looks before I get to know them. I hate knowing that you're going to be alone now for a few more months dealing with the hate and negativity," I sign back.

"As long as you don't leave me, I won't be dealing with it alone."

"I'd never."

"Good. Now stop worrying and enjoy being able to see things."

"I'm enjoying seeing you," I sign cockily.

"Flirt," she responds trying to use her voice.

"What about you? How do you feel about using your voice?"

"People will make fun of me but I've got you."

"You've always got me."

We sit there for a while longer just existing together.