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.”