Sybil Deblasi : D9 : FIN

Sleep is a rare thing for me. All night I lay on my back, wrapped in itchy blankets on a thin mattress, and listen to the wind howling outside. Sometimes, the smell of smog seeps through the cracks in the walls and makes my insomnia even less pleasant. When I finally get drowsy, my hands always wander to my eyes. I poke and prod at my closed eyelids. Hoping that when I wake up, they'll be able to do something. Anything.

My mother says that I'm a gift. That I'm smart, talented, and going to go far in life. My older brother tells me his friends think I'm cute. My family is sweet. They do their best to keep my spirits up, and I'm thankful for that. We've always been a tight-knit group. And I can't believe people really think I look cute.

This begs the question, however. What exactly do I look like?

I haven't seen myself in a good 9 years. I'm not even sure I remember what I was did at all when I was 5, let alone what I looked like. I know my hair is long. I can feel that. My mom likes to brush it out and compare it to chocolate. I don't think chocolate hair is that practical. Besides my hair, I can also feel a strong jaw- complete with a protruding chin. My nose is especially round, but always seems to be bumpy. Eye shape is hard to figure out, but I know my eyebrows are bushy. Perhaps they're chocolate as well.

From what I hear, my eyes are a strikingly clear green. In fact, everything about me tends to be described in some fancy way, like I'm an ethereal being or something. I wish people would just buckle down and tell me the truth sometimes. Tell me how my arms are awkwardly long, or how my nose is covered in bubbling acne. Tell me how funny my mouth looks when I pronounce certain words like "mechanical". Don't sugar coat everything just because I can't confirm it with my own useless eyes.

I'm most at ease when I'm lost among a crowd. All the unique sounds, noises, and smells can't compare to anything. It's easier to navigate when a lot is going on. When it's too quiet, it's hard to track things down. With crowds, you can follow the flow and the sound of people to get where you need to go. Sometimes it's nice to get lost, though. When everyone is hiding from the biting morning sun, sometimes I'll stroll along the empty streets. Wherever the sounds take me, they take me.

I do really like conversing with people as well. I manage to strike up a nice talk with most everyone I come across. Everyone sure seems to have a lot to talk about. As much as I enjoy talking, I'm very emotionally reserved while doing so. It's not that I've built up a wall, per se. More like a guarded gate. To explain- I'll let the occasional person in, but I'm still cautious. I have a lot of friendly acquaintances, but nobody besides my brother could be considered a close friend.

Besides being good at chatter and apparently being cute, I don't think I'm much useful for anything else. I can't go to school like a child, but I can't work like an adult. I'm able to do nothing a girl my age should be able to. My mother says it's quite alright, that everyone drags themselves through their lives differently. She doesn't really understand. She goes to work everyday in a factory, like a normal adult does. My brother doesn't understand much, either. He can go to school like a normal 18 year old. I can't do anything.

I was capable of doing things when I was born. Everybody is born capable. What happens after that is up to fate. Believe it or not, I was born perfectly healthy. My mother, a simple factory worker, couldn't manage to stay home with me, so she brought my brother and I to work with her. We would always crouch by our mom's chair and play silly children's games. He was old enough to go to school, but he didn't want me to be my myself.

When I was 5, I got sick. Real sick. My mom found the best nurse in the district for me, one she couldn't even afford. The nurse told me I wasn't likely to make it another week. My supposed last week was spent in a sweaty fever haze. When you're five, you don't ever assume that you're going to die. I'm not sure I'd even known what death was at the time.

It was all sudden. When I went to bed, there was something. When I woke up the next morning, there was nothing. My world was dark as the last night I saw. Nothing in life is free, I suppose. In exchange for letting me live, the fever made off with my eyesight. Adjusting took a long, long time. I wasn't allowed out of my brother's sight until I was 8. By then, I had mostly learned to do things on my own. Eventually, my brother went off to school, and I stayed behind at home. Being left at home alone for quite a bit really left me with a constant hunger for socialization.

Everything is sort of an adventure now. One time, as I was hanging around behind my house, I put my hand on the ground and suddenly found something furry. The area behind my concrete house was brimming with stray cats, and I hadn't even known. It's a bit of a sanctuary for me now. My brother knit me a blanket to keep spread outside. When I can't sleep, sometimes I'll wander outside. The cats are always there for me.

codeword: odair
faceclaim: bailey gambertoglio