Blind Sights

Screams filled the spring air. Some of them were entwined with horror, but most were tinged with the adrenaline-induced excitement that usually accompanies roller coasters. The sun blazed down through a blessedly clear sky. It was a perfect day to be at XYZ Amusement Park. Of course, there are those peculiar cases of people who would have preferred sleeping in on that glorious four-day weekend.

One such case was blind, eighteen-year-old Mark Monro, who had been dragged from the warm embrace of his bed onto this morosely abrasive family outing. If it could even be called that. It could hardly be called a normal family outing; it more like a dysfunctional family outing. For starters, Mark's father was absent, and most likely sharing a more intimate outing with the business secretary.

"Why are we even trying to hold on to such weak semblances of a normal family?" Grumbled Mark to himself, sipping on his drink as he leaned back against the cold bench. The young man had thankfully found a cool, shady area to sit in while his mother and two little sisters rode the Hurl-A-Whirl. Mark decided to skip out on the ride, since his mother possessed a weak constitution. That was a guarantee that he'd to be covered in her morning apricot smoothie within five minutes of the ride starting.

As far as Mark was concerned, that drink didn't smell great going down, so it must smell horrible coming up. He was just thankful he wouldn't have to see that putrid drink again. One of the upsides of his newly-acquired, sightless state.

"Don't be grumpy, Mark." chirped a small muse on Mark's shoulder, who was munching on a small pretzel purchased from a fairy vendor in the park, "Individual humans are dysfunctional as is; how can you expect humans to raise a normal family when they themselves are mentally unstable?"

Mark sighed, and ignored his muse, not even sparing the small, gender-less pixie a glance. Whenever Mark looked at Zaimix, his eyes stung at all the neon-bright colors that made up the little imp's clothing. It was a funny trade-off, really. Mark had lost his sight, but in return gained an odd gift.

Now, whether he liked it or not, he could see magical creatures. Most of them consisted of faeries, muses, and those you usually read about in fairytales. Yet, Mark had the chance to see, and interact, with many exotic and rarely read about creatures. There had been much action within a month of being blind, thanks to the new sight. It amazed Mark that such creatures lived without detection in this day and age of technological advances.

There were other little technicalities to his gift, however. Technicalities that he was thankful for, because without them he would have had to been transferred to Slater School for the Blind. The other part of his gift was anything that a non-human creature touched, or held, Mark could also see. It was strange, but that's how the gift had evolved.

It helped Mark at school, for he had to use his laptop to type up notes. That would have been nearly impossible without his muse there to sit on top of the screen. Mark did have to make up an excuse on his ability to take notes this way. Basically, he told everyone that he had his notes in a specific order, and he could navigate to them quite easily with the help of the tab button. Having been through six classes of typing etiquette in elementary school, his ability to type without many mistakes wasn't even a question.

Of course, as a back-up, Mark also had a tape recorder playing while he typed, so he could review whatever the teacher said later on that evening. It wasn't as much of a hassle that Mark first thought it would be, and he was doing just as well in school as he always had. Mark had to get used to the fact of actually studying, though. Before, he could look over the notes, and do last minute studies to get good grades. Yet, now he had disciplined himself to review his recorded class tapes every day.

On the matter of homework, Mark's principal ordered braille versions of the textbooks Mark would need. It was more of an apology, since the school was the setting of the accident that caused Mark to lose his sight. Or perhaps it was more of a bribe, to keep Mark from suing the school for its inhibited precautions of protecting students from such an accident.

Convincing his teachers that his test taking skills were up to par was another matter. Eventually, due to his stubborn nature, he was able to get the teachers to let him try his way of taking tests. This meant the teachers had to record the test questions on tape and Mark typed his answers on a computer as he listened to them.

To make the teachers more at ease with this technique, Mark allowed them to assign him to a specific computer, as proof that he couldn't cheat. The teachers weren't very accepting at this odd way of taking tests at first, but when Mark proved he could still score high with this technique, the teachers dealt with it.

As the memories of those numerous conflicts with his teachers flitted by his thoughts, Mark shoved them away. They'd only end up giving him a headache. After all, what was the use of thinking about a subject he had already won over?

The familiar groans of his mother wafted through the air, and a faint scent of sourness stained the air. Well, that was the signal his family was back from their lovely little ride. Mark sighed as he heard his mother retch. Sometimes he wondered if his mother ever learned. She know she couldn't handle the Hurl-A-Whirl without making like a bulimic afterwards.

He heard his sister, Kayla, say she'd get mother a drink, then heard the sound of her flipflops padding away as she ran off to a concession stand. As the sound started to fade into the mesh of sounds in the world around Mark, he caught the scent of crayons to his right.

"Hey Rosie." greeted the blind young man, without much enthusiasm in his voice. Zaimix fluttered to his little sister's shoulder, and instantly a vague glow consumed his sister. She had snagged his drink, and was now finishing it off with a grin on her lips. Her dark, curly black hair was pulled into pigtails. Mark felt sorry for the overworked hair bands as they struggled to keep the hair in place, despite the fact a few strands of hair had already escaped their hold.

"You missed out on a fun ride, Mark." Grinned Rosie, absentmindedly reaching up to stroke the muse on her shoulder. It was strange, how little kids could see the creatures that Mark saw. Yet, Mark assumed they forgot about it when they grew up, writing it off as figments of their imagination. But, the young man always wondered why children were gifted with seeing what adults couldn't. Perhaps not being corrupted had something to do with it.

"I'm sure I didn't miss much." Grumbled Mark, making a face as one last retch echoed into a poor trashcan. He saw Rosie's eyes glance to where their mother was hurling, and saw her nose wrinkle in disgust.

Letting his eyes wander, Mark sat in comfortable silence with his little sister. He watched as a siren played with her baby, both using magic to disguise their true appearance. A few elves shuffled by, their delicate ears hidden under hats of all sorts of shapes and sizes. Most of the creatures, however, were imaginary friends of children. Mark sighed a bit as he sadly remember his old imaginary friend. That friend evolved into Zaimix, after having to face a very painful 'death' when Mark believed he didn't need the creature anymore.

"Hello, mother, how was breakfast a second time around?" asked Mark, bitterly, as the scent of perfume mingling with some sour substance became stronger. He heard his mother hiss in irritation, and suppressed a smirk. As his mother flopped down on the other side of him, Mark listened to her settle onto the hard bench before she replied haughtily to his sarcastic question.

"Don't talk to me that way, Mark."

Rolling his blind eyes again, he snorted and went back to enjoying his creature watching.

He spotted a siren with her child, in the guise of a mother playing with her little son. However, the feeling of something wrong was starting to settle itself in his stomach, yet he couldn't place it. Just, something seemed missing. Something indiscreet, but obvious. Something he should notice.

While he watched the creatures, the nagging thought plagued him. What was he not noticing?

The jingling of many bangles resounded into Mark's ears. Kayla was returning, apparently. He heard the clanking jewelry advance closer, and then heard his mother whisper a haggard 'thanks'. Then, the sound of rude slurping basically drowned out all other sounds. Mark was good at ignoring it, though. Actually, he was good at ignoring his mom, no matter what she did.

He vaguely heard Kayla chattering, "I'm sorry it took me so long. But the line was massively long! You wouldn't believe it. And--Wait, where's Rosie?"

Mark shot to his feet, eyes wide as he realized that's what the problem was. The scent of Rosie was gone, as was Zaimix. Dammit! Why hadn't he realized that sooner? The little nagging mechanism in the back of his brain kicked him repeatedly for being so stupid, and he mentally kicked himself as well for good measure.

He heard his mother jump to her feet, and screech, "Mark! Weren't you watching he--"

"I'll go look for her. You two go and tell the park's security." snapped Mark.

Bitterly, Mark unclipped his retractable cane from his belt loop, and clicked the pieces into their locked positions. Without sparing his embarrassed mother a look, he went off in a random direction, swinging the cane to and fro as he had learned from his doctor. It was slow going for him, especially since he wanted to storm off, leaving his mother and sister behind.

As he left, Mark's mother groaned and put her head in her hands. She was messing everything up with her son. Silently, she waved her oldest daughter away, telling her she felt too nauseated to walk. Obeying her mother's wishes, Kayla went off to inform the park's security, throwing a last glance at the dismal figure of her mother, holding her head in her hands.