December 31, 3041
First, there were two girls, an abandoned building, and an apple. But this isn't first, this is before first. Negative first, you could say. And as such there is nothing but me, and my diary. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe8cCqM4z42
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Tomorrow, I leave, tomorrow I burn this book, and with it all bridges to the past I have built. But tonight, I shall disclose the truth of days long past, in the faith that no one shall see these pages but myself, and my pen. This is my story, and I shall tell it as I please.
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It started long before first, long before what many would call the beginning. I see this now, even if I didn't then. Not that we 'saw' anything then...39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiNKEAHRJy5
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I was nine, on that fateful day. The day when my life first showed the first pangs of change. The day when not even the strongest glasses could help. The day the world went black for us all.39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6esIbdBnyr
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No one knew what it was. For as long as I could remember, the average world eyesight had been decreasing at an alarming rate. We adapted, learned how to read embossed letters and Braile, to walk with canes and guiderails. To have public transportation automated, so no one had to drive. Cities were nearly all the same, roads and houses carefully plotted in such perfect squares so that if you were any decent at getting along, it was nearly impossible to lose your way. In time, life returned to a state of normal. It became easier to accept and move on, than to remember a past you could not change. By the time I was fourteen, light was just a faint memory. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVtUfY0E7eC
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I lived near the middle of town. Which town isn't important, as I said, most were nearly the same. Of course, my parents lived there with me, but sometimes I wondered if they spared me half a thought. I spent my days at school, and my weekends in my room. When I was younger, I would play with my neighbor for hours on end. His name was Joshua, and I had known him since I was nearly two. But his father worked for the same government system as my father, which, with how much my father traveled, didn't seem very stable. His family moved away when I was 10. Truth be told, in the past year before the move, we hadn't been as close, him going rather to his male friends, leaving me to go and sit along in the corner and imagine. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv4icwOqM21
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I was still upset he had left. Close or not, he had been my friend— perhaps my only one. The next four years were lonely, adjusting to a life blind and friendless. I went to school, did lessons in other languages, talked to my parents. Outwardly, I knew all the right answers. But inwardly, a deep question that I wouldn't admit to even myself started to take root. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9xr3Jg8t0T
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"Who am I?"39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ7tziMKEDa
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By fourteen, I had grown accustomed to being alone. The teacher could ask if I was alright, and I could slip a smile into my voice, and say 'of course,' as if my soul wasn't slowly barring itself inside of me in a place even I couldn't find.39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQXgDm7m2Cr
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Honestly, though, I could have replied with, "I'm grand," without lying. Had I been better? Hell yes. Had I been worse? Also, yes. I was happy with my life, in some twisted way, even through the loneliness. But just as I thought I was in a decent place, things just had to change again.
One morning, I woke. Well, scratch that, I woke up most days. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw0FNBlTTxv
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One Friday, I got out of bed in my usual manner, not bothering to open my eyes as I chose an outfit, (a business that does not take long when you can't see colours or patterns,) made my bed, and just generally for ready for the day. Nothing out of the ordinary, until I sneezed, my eyes instinctively opening after. As they did, I saw black. And no, that isn't normal. When you are blind you saw... well, you saw nothing. Not black, just.... void. Emptiness. Nothing. Black was a surprise, and I found myself stumbling. I could see shadows, and where light would be, though no objects, or colours. Just varying shades of grey, I suppose. The area I knew my door to be in was outlined, light seeping in through the gaps, no doubt. MY eyes were forced wider and wider, as if that would help. Somehow, none of this came as a surprise to me. Perhaps had there been someone to tell, I should have cared more. As it stood, it was just me, myself, and I, gazing at a blurry greyscale image of my room. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUAXe0ml9Lm
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The most beautiful thing I had seen in years.
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The rest of the day was uneventful. Being able to see light versus dark was better than seeing nothing, but it didn't change much. But each morning following that, my sight was a little better. The second day, outlines and shapes, the third, some colour, and on, and one....39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUHfXHuSIqp
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But I get ahead of myself. On the fifth day, I woke with near perfect vision and found myself blinking from the light. How did we use to live like this, I couldn't understand. But that didn't distract me long. For on the walls were shapes, painted on with... what was the word again? Oh yes, red. Painted on with red ink. Shapes, that when I ran my fingers over them, formed dots. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvXbogkhK7Y
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⠠⠙⠕⠝⠄⠞ ⠇⠑⠞ ⠞⠓⠑⠍ ⠅⠝⠕⠺ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠉⠁⠝ ⠎⠑⠑39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZb4PSJI95a
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D.O.N.T/L.E.T/T.H.E.M/K.N.O.W/Y.O.U/C.A.N/S.E.E.
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Needless to say, I had questions. 39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRoo7u2gUbZ
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I also screamed, but that isn't important.
