I was watching the movie the earlier today, and during the scene where she first meets Ben at the bar, her voice came into my head and said "I wasn't always blind." Kind of freaky actually, but when inspiration strikes, who am I to ignore it? I thought that it was a good line for an opening fic, so I figured, why not? This is what I give to you.
I wasn't always blind.
At least I don't think I was.
I get dreams sometimes.
Flashes.
I think it's my life before the accident.
At least, I think it was an accident that caused this.
But its so hard to tell if they're real, or if I'm dreaming.
I see it every night, the accident.
I'm five, maybe six years old.
I'm standing by a woman.
My mother.
She beautiful. Flowing black hair. Dark hazel eyes. Smooth caramel skin.
And her voice.
Oh, how I long to hear it once more. Soft. Loving.
We have bags at our feet.
We're going to visit someone.
My father, I think.
A cab pulls up.
We get in.
The cab pulls away from the curb, the driver looking at us through the rearview mirror.
He asks where were going.
My mother tells him.
He nods, making conversation with my mother as he drives.
I look out the window.
Nothing special, really.
Houses meld into buildings as we get deeper into the city.
The crowds of people get thicker, until you can no longer tell one person from another.
I make a game out of it.
The man in the business suit now has the head of a teenage girl laden with piercings and wild hair.
The old woman shaking her cane has the body of a boy riding a bicycle.
We stop at a red-light.
My mother laughs.
A gorgeous sound.
The light turns green and the cab slowly accelerates as the driver smiles at my mother, responding to something she said.
Fear.
I feel is sweep over me, but I can't figure out why. I become frightened.
I hear a scream.
My mother.
I look over and I see it.
A truck barreling towards the drivers side of the cab.
My mothers side.
My voice raises in a scream, intertwining with my mothers.
An ethereal sound.
The lights blind me.
A horn.
Darkness.