Hey all! I know, I should be updating Clash and Burn, but I got this idea, and I could just type so much of it... I had to post it. I don't know where I got this idea, but I hope no one has it already up. :)

It's a wee bit cliche, but hey, it's fanfictionland. And about a certain character in here... well, you'll see she's not completely cliche.

Enjoy! I'm legal to drink in Germany ont he 30th:D Friggin Sweet 16! Hellz yes:D

Mrs. Ishida Presents…

Chapter one

Have you ever walked into school on the very first day of a new year, with the horrible feeling that something is wrong and everyone is staring at you?

Have you ever had to do that after switching schools after a horrible car accident nearly killed your father and blinded you?

I'd been dreading that day in August that I'd have to step foot in any school, let alone a new school.

You could call it the normal jitters you get before attending a new school; will people like me? Will I fit in? Will I make a complete fool of myself? Will this be the year I finally get up the courage to join the fill-in-the-blank team?

I wish.

My jitters had to do with something completely different. My worries were more like…

Will I crash into the absolutely wrong person?

Will I fall into a trash can or some other unpleasant place?

Will I get the comments that I get (which should be so familiar by now)… I know people will stop and stare, so I'm not even going to ask.

Will I be able to find my classes without any help (God forbid I have to ask anyone)

You see, last year was great. Perfect, you could say. I had great friends, I was a star on the track team, I had straight A's….

All until one night, when my family was driving home from going out for dinner. We never even saw him coming.

Waking up in the hospital the next day was surreal. I had no idea where I was, why I was there, where my family was, or why I was in complete darkness. All I heard was the mechanical beeping of something, and wherever I was smelled like Pine-sol and plastic.

A nurse kindly filled me in as gently as she could, but how gently can you state that your mother's okay, but your father's in a coma, and the reason you can't see anything is because of the massive head-on car accident you got into the night before?

Mom said the police told her the guy's blood alcohol level was more then twice the legal limit and he had unfortunately not survived the wreck.

It took a while of explaining for it to sink in:

My dad is in a coma and could die at anytime?

Some guy died last night in a car crash?

Wait, we were in a car crash?

I'M BLIND?

For some reason, I couldn't help but look around, just to see if I could see any hint of light.

There was nothing.

I couldn't be blind… I'm only 16 years old! I still have high school, college, my life to go through… I can't be… disabled like this!

The poor nurse did her best to explain that my life wasn't over, I could still do things anyone who could see could do, and I'd just have to learn to adjust a little.

"And who knows… this may not be permanent," she said, but I could sense the skepticism in her voice. Oh, it was going to be permanent. I learned later that not only did she know, but my mother knew, the doctors knew, and even my friends. They stopped by a few times to tell me how glad they were I was alive, and not to let this get me down, but nothing they could say could cheer me up.

It's true what they say: you never know how much you miss something until it's gone.

You don't know how much vision means to us; it obviously allows us to see what's in front of us, but it's much more than that.

We can read other people's faces and communicate so much with our eyes.

I hate getting up in the morning, but thinking about the fact that I'd never get to see a sunrise again, or see my little dog jumping up on my legs when I came down the stairs every morning nearly killed me.

Usually, I'm not a person who lets self pity get to her. I dust myself off, and keep going. But how much could I take? This was waaaay more than anything I'd faced before. I'm independent. I hate asking for help, and I hate when I need help.

But this made me realize how much I would have to depend on others. For the rest of my life. I think that's the part that killed me the most.

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Coming home from the hospital was hell. I knew my way around my home, but it frustrated me so much whenever I'd stub my toe into a table leg or trip on a step. It frustrated me so much that I just gave up and retreated to my room.

Walking into my room, I felt a cool breeze; my window was still open from when I left a few days earlier. When I could still see.

I imagined my bed was still in its messy state that I left it in; I never make my bed… or really try to keep my room clean, for that matter.

I made my way over to the bed, and, making sure there was nothing on it to cause me further harm, fell back on it. It was so weird to have your eyes open and not see a thing. I'd lain here many a time just to think, in this exact position, just staring up at the ceiling. But now, there was nothing. I kept trying to open my eyes, only to remember that they already were open… I just couldn't see anything out of them.

I'd always hated the fact that I had red hair… I guess we're just weird like that. But now I'd never have to see it again.

I'd always hated my thighs…. They're really disproportionate to the rest of my body. But I guess I won't have to unintentionally sigh every time Ｉ see them in the mirror.

This wasn't making me feel any better.

It made me feel bad that I'd begged mom to paint my room red, my favorite color, and now I couldn't even see it. I'd give anything to see my beautiful, messy, airy room again. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, if ever.

I thought things couldn't get any worse. Right in the middle of my little pity-party, mom came in.

"Sora, honey…there's something I need to talk to you about…" she said, in the very uncomforting but familiar tone I'd heard before. This came before 'the talk' and before she told me my cat had terminal cancer when I was 12 years old.

I sat up; not thinking anything could beat anything which had just happened to us. I heard her take a seat.

"Sora, you know your father's condition… he's stable, but I'm going to be honest with you. They don't think he's going to wake up anytime soon. And, well, since he was our main source of income… I… I just don't think my little flower shop is going to be able to pay the medical insurance, the electricity, water, and the cost of food and keeping this apartment," she finished slowly.

"Mom, what are you getting at?" I asked, having the horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I haven't even gotten used to the fact that I may be blind for life; what more could I take?

"Well, the hospital…. Has a lot of patients they need to take care of… and seeing as he's no longer in critical condition, think it may be best to move him to a place where someone can just take care of him…"

"Like a nursing home or something?" I asked, a little irritated that she was speaking to me like I was a little kid.

"Well, yes. And I've been trying to find a job that might be able to help keep our heads above water financially…and I finally found one!" she said, a little overly and fakely happy.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"It's a job in a school district… a secretary," she explained quietly.

I didn't like the way she said a school district.

"But… there's one other thing…" she added. Oh boy, here it comes.

"It's in Odaiba," she added. My eyes widened, pointlessly, I might add.

"Odaiba?? But mom…. That's… miles away!! In Tokyo! We're moving??" I cried. I couldn't believe my rotten luck. First I lose my eyesight, and now I'm losing everything that's familiar to me. I was born and raised here and I have family here! Not to mention the friends I've had since childhood!

"I'm sorry, Sora, but there's no other way! There is the only place I can find an affordable home for your father and an affordable apartment for us! I really don't like the idea either, but it seems we have no other choice, right now," she came over, wrapping her arms around me. I was so mad. I know now that she was just trying to do the best she could do, with a comatose husband, almost no income, and a blind daughter, but I still couldn't help but be royally pissed off.

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The day we left, I felt somewhat bad for not telling anyone. It was hard enough telling them about my situation, but telling them I was leaving them would just make it so much worse. Instead, I all sent them heartfelt letters via snail mail (my mother wrote down everything as I said everything I wanted to say)telling them that I'd miss them so much and I'd try to contact them as soon as possible.

That train ride had to be longest trip of my life.

I thought about so many things I'd never thought about before. It may sound stupid, but losing my sight gave me sight to a lot of other things; like not to take things for granted. I promised myself that no matter what I felt like, I'd be as helpful as possible. My mother already had enough on her plate; she didn't need me to slow her down at all. I'd take special care to always be cheerful and happy, and to always do whatever she said to do, no matter how much I didn't want to.

I thought it would be good to do the same with others. Having to put up with me and whatever help I may (grudgingly) ask for was enough; I'd always be bright and happy. No complaining.

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Of course, I couldn't see it, but I could just feel that our new apartment was tiny. Which was okay… we didn't need some huge living space to get by.

I felt awful knowing that as my mother pulled in some of the little furniture we brought with us in unassisted, I could do nothing. I couldn't see where I was going, and therefore would just be a nuisance.

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That night I offered to cook something to eat, only to be reminded by a tired mother that that could be a potential fire hazard. Undeterred, I promised her that after this long day and all the work she'd gone through, I'd make her the best meal I could. She was already asleep on the recliner. All I could do now was to find a blanket, cover her, and find a spot to retire for the night. Not like I'd get much sleep anyways.

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Alrighty... well, I hope you enjoy this first chappie. I want 6 reviews... Please? It's not a huge number... On Clash and Burn, I had over 50 hits for the first chapter, and, like, 4 reviews. So yeah, I want some love, people!

Thanks a bunch, and I will post the next chapter soon! I have up to chapter 6 already done.

and if anyone tells me what animes I took some of the last names in here out of, Kudos to you:D