Maybe it would have been easier ifIhad been born with the darkness. Or if I hadn't been the one with the best eyes. But I would never trade away the sight of Max or Fang or Angel or Nudge or even Gazzy. Not for anything, ever.

And it wasn't like they just gouged my eyes out either, perhaps that would have been kinder. They were so precise that I can still cry, still blink, still roll the useless cloudy white orbs of my eyes.

Or, I'm told that they're white now. They used to be green, stunning brilliant vibrant emerald green. Not that I ever had a chance to look in a mirror at the School. Or owned a mirror to look in.

Art. I used to want to paint. And I could. But, after awhile, I ran out of subjects. I could only paint things that I had seen, had remembered. I can tell you, there weren't many pleasant things to remember from when I had sight. The flock told me the pieces were beautiful. Not that we could carry them around.

Now my art is made in light, great blossoming arches of light tearing through everything in its path. At least this is useful, conserves the safety of the flock. Most of the time, anyway.

At least my disability works to our advantage. Without it there would be no Iggy Radar Advanced Warning System™. Some quite potentially sticky situations I had prevented were the thanks for my efforts.

But still, life wasn't easy… Or as easy as life on the run… fly… could be. Sure, the flock tries to help, but nothing compares to real sight with real eyes. I know, I had it once. Imagine that something so simple as the sun as just a word with a definition, just a bunch of words clustered together in memory with a description of 'Whole bunch of lamps that circle the sky and disappear every night' by Gazzy. Day and night mean nothing to me. Without a constant sleep cycle, it's impossible to tell the difference. Well… not impossible per say, outside I can tell when the night creatures come out to stalk and prey scrambles down its hidey-holes to sleep. Inside, who knows?

But no way would I settle for whatever creepy invention the eraser jerk had offered me. I would not, could not even consider it for a moment.

If that meant I was stuck in this ebony blackness for the rest of my life, so be it.

It's something familiar everywhere I go, everywhere I am, everywhere I will be.

The darkness is comforting.

It is my home, right alongside the flock.

I really needed a home, now more than ever.