Even before the dawn trickled in through the windows of the moderate-sized two bedroom apartment, an alarm gave its annoying beep to sound the morning start. Five seconds later, it was quickly and expertly turned off in the darkness. As always, sleep sounded so good...but a jangle a short ways away told her she wouldn't get any in a few minutes anyway.
As predicted, since this was the case with EVERY morning five a.m. wake-up call, a head rested on the mattress and gave a small whine. Having already calculated where that head dropped, her hand rose and gave her eyes a quick scratch behind his ears. "One minute BT-kun. Back." After the jangle sounded when that small head brushed off the blanket from her command, her hand gripped the covers and threw them off her body. The cold rush of air hit her entire body, even through her cotton pajamas. With a stretch, she stood and gave her back a lazy scratch.
"Speak." A small bark came and greeted her tuned ears. Seconds later, her hand lowered and touched the top of a shaggy head. She gave it a quick pat good morning and snapped her fingers a few times to figure out which way was her dresser. Turning twenty degrees, she took three steps and stopped, not needing to use her hand as guidance. Even though it was blackness in her room, with a moving animal at her feet, she lived in this room for many years. She knew almost every inch by heart, and nothing was ever moved. EVER.
After grabbing the harness, she patted a clothed leg and felt Beethoven push against her seconds later. She turned ninety degrees and kneeled, knowing he'd be waiting to be leashed. Without thought, she expertly slipped the harness around his stomach and fastened the clasps. Giving him a final pat on the head before standing, she took five steps and touched the doorframe of her wide closet. Quickly discarding the pajamas and tossing them directly on her bed, she pulled out her morning walking clothes from their pristinely folded place on top of the shelf overhead and quickly donned them. Taking three steps back to her bed, she turned a near one-eighty angle and headed for the door. Beethoven's dog tags jingled behind as he followed.
A sharp CLICK from her door lock sounded as she turned the handle. The small knob popped against her skin as she pulled the door open and stepped out to edge of the hallway. It was a little colder than her room, but that was due to the space heater. Her room was normally colder, even with the heat vents open, and the heater was bought to help her problem. After feeling the shaggy coat brush against her fleece sweatpants, she shut the door and mentally tracked in her mind as she headed through the living room, around furniture, and kneeled by the front door for her sneakers. They were in the exact position she put them in yesterday morning and lithe fingers snatched them up. She backed up a few steps and easily sat down on her father's recliner. She could feel Beethoven's impatience. She gave an amused tip of her lips. "One minute BT-kun." She quietly answered. A quiet whine was her only response.
Flexing her feet inside the comfortable shoes, she turned toward the door and grabbed her key from the lock hanging on the wall. Her other hand reached out with a lean to the right and grabbed the pull-over off the hook. After a quick click from the deadbolt, she opened it and let the retriever head out first. Her ears tuned as she quietly closed and locked the door, not wanting to wake her father just yet. He didn't have to get up till six thirty and she woke up at five to take Beethoven out on his morning walk and get ready for the morning in peace. After he got up, she had to be ready to go to be dropped off for college. Being hurried wasn't something she liked.
Beethoven dutifully stayed at her side by the jangle of keys in the tall stairwell as the two headed to the ground floor. She mentally counting down each set of stairs she took to the bottom. The jangle stopped and bounced immediately back in her ears. The door was right in front of them. She stopped and reached down, feeling the plastic brush against her fingers. Her hand gripped it while the other reached forward and swung the door open, letting in a blast of cold air. It was a little windy, but she was all dressed up for that reason, and Beethoven's coat was thick as it was every winter.
The walk headed into the grass and when she felt the retriever strain against her hold, she stopped and let go of the handle to let the dog do what it needed to. After a minute of taking in the crisp air, feeling the wind blow the weight of hair on her back, the jangle of tags stopped beside her. After a quick, skilled feel for the halter, she continued on the same path, having been facing it the whole time.
The walk was never long, just enough to let Beethoven stretch his legs and help her wake up. By the time they returned, she was doubly looking forward to her routine shower. With a hand on the railing, they climbed back up to the third floor and the jangle of keys helped her keep track of when they reached the door. Not that she needed to be alerted by hearing...this routine was a habit years old.
She let the retriever inside first and relocked the door as quietly as possible. Dawn started creeping a little lighter tinge into the room, barely noticeable behind the curtain in front of her eyes. She performed the whole ordeal in reverse; putting her coat away and setting the key back where it belonged, then taking her sneakers off and setting them right where they were before. After that, she trekked almost the same line in the opposite direction back to her room...tags jangling after her. After letting Beethoven inside to sit in his open kennel and wait, she took the walking outfit back off and put it exactly as it had been before she pulled it out this morning. That done, she took a step back and reached a hand down to the frame of her daybed, grabbing the robe off the wood post. After donning it, she trekked the same invisible line to the door and three steps across the hall to their shared bathroom.
It was small, but she liked it like that. Small meant easier to memorize and remember where everything was. There were the required items in a bathroom, and neither she nor her father bothered to put anything different in. Her things were always in on one spot, never moved unless she moved them. Her father never touched anything of hers because she didn't allow it. She always found a way to raise hell with him in her own, silent way.
Discarding the robe on the hook, she turned ninety degrees and took two steps to the shower. Her hand gripped the round knob and turned it ninety degrees, then waited a few seconds for it to heat up. Her hand stuck underneath it again to check the temperature, than turned it up again and once again when it wasn't hot enough for her. Hot showers were something she cherished, since she loved the feel of water on her body. Being tune with one's own body due to blindness allowed her senses to heighten, especially feel. Whenever she showered, she could feel almost every bit of the showerhead hit her body.
Even though she loved letting the water hit her body, she was always on a schedule. There was never much time to enjoy the heat, or the water caressing itself down with gravity. Her internal clock was running on time, as it always did, and she knew her father would want the room as soon as he woke up. So she reached out in the darkness and started in on her routine. Shampoo, face wash, rinse and conditioner, rinse both soap and conditioner, then soap her body down. She always left the soap for last to give her skin time to soak up the water and make it easier to wash. She utterly HATED the feel of soap scum on her skin...even a LITTLE bit. It made her feel unclean. Even if she felt the wrong amount of shampoo or conditioner on her head made it feel dry or oily. Being in touch with her body had its good and bad points.
As her body rinsed down one last time, she kneeled in the water under the spray and let it pound on her head. When the hot water started to wane, her hand reached out and turned the knob hotter. The water quickly heated up and she cringed at the hot temperature...but let it scald her scalp and heat up her skin. In no time, it waned again and she turned the knob to the left until it wouldn't go anymore. She stood and let the hot water wash over her face. Her blood pounded as her body heated up and as the water started to get cold again, she shut it off and with the want to get out and cool off. Silence greeted her ears with a quiet jangle of Beethoven's tags in her room across the way. Her forehead quietly thudded against the porcelain wall as she let drip dried for a brief moment.
Feeling her skin and hair dry in the brisk air, she pulled the shower curtain aside and colder air blasted her. With a quiet inhale through her teeth, she wrung as much water from her long hair as possible before grabbing the towel. After wrapping it around her body, she wrung more water and then stepped onto the mat. She made a quick stop to grab her robe before hurrying across the way to her room and relocking the door out of habit. Her body felt antsy and she knew she was a few minutes behind. She mentally berated herself as she quickly towel-dried. She HATED to be off-schedule.
Though it wouldn't do much good, she tossed the mane over her head and wrapped it in a towel to hope it would towel-dry a little. She hurried and grabbed the lotion on her nightstand and applied to her body, already feeling the skin itch as it dried without nutrients. That was another thing she utterly needed was lotion or her skin felt overly dry and cracked throughout the entire day and she often itched it till it burned. She always had the urge to squirm and itch her back or leg in class and she didn't want the attention on her. It also interrupted her learning, so she solved the problem.
Just as she finished and went to put her clothes on, another quiet beep from another alarm sounded through the walls. It was six thirty. She pulled the towel from her head and used the dryer sections to dry what she could as it was slapped off and a grumbling voice sounded. She gave a small snort and sat on her bed for a while, listening to her noisy chichi-san roll from his bed and walk around on his heels to the bathroom. Her head shook as she stood and went for the pick on her bed. Her hair was as dry as it was going to get. She refused to use a hairdryer, for it made her scalp dry and she could almost FEEL the long ends dying whenever she used it. Sitting back down on the comfy mattress in her normal drab colored clothes, she grabbed the tail end and diligently worked her way up.
She finished long before her father left the shower. She felt mildly bad for staying longer than normal and not giving the heater enough time to work, but there was nothing she could really do NOW... Fully clothed and her head back up in the towel to keep her cotton shirt dry, she headed into the living room and opened the balcony sliding doors, letting Beethoven out with her to enjoy the morning.
The temperature had risen in the span of a single hour and dusk had definitely come. She could see a small brightening behind the cloud that was her sight. She quietly inhaled as sounds of the neighborhood reached her ears. The area was waking up once again, and she was content to stand out here and greet it. There wasn't much she could do until her father made breakfast ANYWAY. She was basically not allowed in the kitchen, by his decree and HERS. Not only were there too many sharp objects to harm her, but she couldn't see what she was making, so it was all left up to him. At least her chichi-san was a good enough cook.
Hands helped prop her chin up on the wooden banister as she sightlessly stared. She was happy to be able to make a FEW things...utterly SIMPLE things... She scowled at her handicap, as she sometimes did. Not being able to make anything to fill her up, eating mostly fruit or toast for a snack, got her pitifully thin figure where it was. She didn't like the fact she was so thin, but that was another problem with being so overly tuned to her body. Eating even a moderate amount of food made her feel too full to the point of nausea. She tried to eat a more, to try and fix that, but it wasn't something that easy to break.
The inside door slid open, and her body turned to it. Seconds later, her hand extended and gently took the mug-size cup of hot tea. After taking it and sticking her hand through the handle. She brought it to her nose and inhaled the delectable aroma of jasmine tea. She loved that smell...it reminded her of flowers. As the door slid wordlessly closed again, she leaned against the railing and sipped the tea, relishing in the heat on her hands. The tip of the mug rested against her lips, allowing her to breathe in the fragrance.
Feeling the urge to go back in, she twisted around and let Beethoven in first before locking it behind her. Her nose was assaulted with the smells of toast and eggs and her nose wrinkled. She wouldn't mind some of the toast with a little bit of butter or even jelly...but the eggs already made her lose her appetite. She kept an even face, when what she really wanted to do was scrunch it up in revulsion. Beethoven's jangling went into the kitchen and was jangled again as her father gave him an almost obligatory scratch behind the ears. She looked away from the sound and wandered over to a plush rocker and sipped her tea in silence. The only sounds that gathered in the moderate-sized apartment were the sounds of cooking.
After a bit, porcelain clinked in the air, silverware following suit. She exhaled a quiet sigh and stood from the rocker, giving a quiet whistle to find Beethoven's location. After the dog barked, she headed to the dining table and quietly pulled her chair out. The smell of toast and butter, with a small amount of egg smell drifting up, met her nose as she bent in to sit down. She bit back a sigh and resolved once again to have at least something her father prepared. He tried to get her to eat, but it was like trying to make Beethoven do something he didn't want to do. It was extremely hard.
She nodded her thanks and grabbed the toast after a quick, subtle feel to locate everything with a chopstick. She finished both pieces and tea, managing to eat about the equivalent of a cup of eggs. She didn't finish her plate, as she knew her father was hoping to do. Neither liked to waste food, since they weren't rich and barely comfortable...so she gave the small bit to Beethoven. He quickly scarfed down the little bit of leftovers as animals usually do as she sipped the rest of her tea. As she listened to Beethoven licking his lips, her hand retained the plate and set the fork down with the tea mug and her father took it with his normal silence. She sat and waited for only a minute as the sink turned on as he did the dishes before gracefully standing and heading back to the balcony. Beethoven dutifully followed her back outside, happy to be out.
Her eyes closed, nose breathing in the morning. The sun rose even more, finally peeking into the layer of blackness behind her lids. It started evaporating some of the frost from the ground and the moisture rose to her nose. She leaned against the balcony with her hip and felt her eyes brush against her leg. A hand idly reached down and scratched his head, feeling the tenseness leave her shoulders. She felt the bliss of serenity and solitude, and wished she could stay outside all morning. But it was too cold, and she still had to brush her teeth before they left. Chichi-san would most likely be finishing up the dishes, and he never took very long to get ready. With a regretful look to the scene, she slowly headed back inside again.
Her ears perked up at the sounds of her father's heavy footsteps as she leaned against the bathroom sink, toothbrush in use. The lights remained off and she watched the shadow of her father's figure flitter back and forth every so often. He was so wound up anymore, but that was understandable. She was feeling on edge with the problems of being an adult with no adult freedom. She knew that her father was also feeling the effects of still taking care of her so much. Her lids drooped a little as she sighed and twisted to the sink. Her head slowly bent until her nose touched the chrome to the faucet. She brushed a little more, trying to make her mouth feel just a little more clean, before rinsing everything and washing her mouth.
The blur passed by once again through the mirror as she straightened and the sounds of clothing rustling was heard. It was time to leave again. She quickly put her toothbrush back in the holder and headed back for the front door, stopping when her father breezed by. She went for her coat and as she slipped it on, stopped next to the door and slipped her feet into her loafers. The fake, black leather completed the drab picture. A plain, dark gray turtleneck, with black slacks. The long, brown fleece coat only added to the fact that color didn't matter to her. Grabbing Beethoven's harness, she let him lead her out the door.
She stopped outside the two-door car and let her father open it. She waited until she heard the seat glide forward to let go of the harness. Jangling sounded as Beethoven hopped in, then the seat was replaced for her. She stood in silence, her face an impassive mask. As her father's footsteps faded when he went for the driver's side, she slid in and closed the door. The other door echoed after her, and she fought a shiver and want to cringe. She didn't like cars for one simple reason. Being constantly reminded of that tragic fact made her hands almost hastily buckle her in for safety.
As the car backed out from its parking spot, her head almost heavily sagged against the headrest as her father headed out of the large complex area. Her eyes reflexively closed as the anxiety slowly left through the vibration of the car under her body. Her shoulders drooped a little, body relaxing against they vinyl. As much as she hated cars, the rhythm and movement always lulled her mind into a small state of peace, allowing her to get through the ride to the college in peace.
There was no radio to listen to, no pleasant talk to make it through. She used the feel of the steel body surrounding her and hum of the engine to break the tense silence and relax. She rarely talked with her chichi-san anymore, for many reasons. They didn't have words to say, and she knew he still considered her part of his burden. She always accepted that, though she tried to behave and be polite to be a good daughter. It was the only thing she COULD do. There was little else she could do to make it up to him. Her eyes cracked into slits as she gave part of the car a sorrowful look. She bit back the urge to sigh and looked to the vicinity of the window. It would do no good to think about something that happened over a decade and a half ago.
The car slowed and took a left, into the college parking lot. She absently reached out and clicked the seatbelt open, going for her pack near her feet. It stopped after a small circle and she opened the door. She stood and shouldered the pack and grabbed her laptop case. She almost awkwardly leaned back into the open car, keeping her head down. "Arigatou chichi-san." Thank you father.
"I'll be back the normal time to find you." He evenly replied, his voice directed away from her.
She nodded and cast her vision left. "Ja ne BT-kun." See you later. As if understanding her, the dog barked once and panted. She took a step back and shut the door, standing just next to the entrance walk as the door abruptly drove off. She turned and stared to the large building with sightless eyes. College...the one thing that would soon free her from all this. All she had to do was make it through one and a half more years and she'd have her master's. She started toward the doors, grabbing the folding walking stick that stuck out from the top of her bag. It snapped straight with a click and she locked it in place.
She didn't mind college so much as she did the people inside it. The teachers were great...she spent a lot of time in this college when she was younger and got to know some of the teachers, many who were now old. Her last name was well-known to at least half a dozen teachers, and many still knew her by face. None spoke of her disfigurement, for they knew it was still too touchy and too painful for her to talk about. Her disfigurement...it was a horrid thing for someone so young to endure. She didn't mind being blind anymore...having enough time as a child to realize she would never see again. But people around the college stared at her, and whispered things they thought she couldn't hear. She bypassed most of them, trying to ignore it all. Why didn't they just turn away and not bother to look at her?
But other than the nuisances of other people, she found college a stimulating experience. She could fill her brain with all sorts of knowledge that she wanted to use. It was the highlight of her day, honestly. It was just hard to be a typical, note-copying student...but she found ways around that. A reporter sized tape recorder allowed her to get down any teachings and type them up to notes later. Her laptop was equipped with things normal students didn't need. Like auditory programs and search programs that allowed her to navigate her entire computer without trouble. It was all very expensive, but she maintained an excellent g.p.a. due to it. Along with specially ordered books in Braille, she was surviving the college world.
The only problem is it always passed to QUICKLY. Even as she absorbed things into her brain outside the tape recorder, time ticked by and didn't stop for her. She had six classes, some with half an hour to hour breaks in between. Though it allowed her to snag a quick bite from the cafeteria before returning. Classes went from an hour on up, and took up her entire day. By the time her last class came, she had enough homework to drudge through, and reports to continue with, to keep her busy till her father and Beethoven came to pick her up.
It was never hard for them to find her. She always sat at the closest table on the edge of the cafeteria area. And she was normally the only one THERE at the time as well too. That, or there was normally very few people accompanying her with homework of their own. She could always tell their arrival by the clicking of twenty doggy nails on the linoleum and the familiar stomp of boots. Not to mention she could smell something different about them both today. She closed the program down and put her things away where they belonged and stood from the chair.
Her nose wrinkled as she bent down to hug her loyal friend. She gave a small sigh of disgust and stood. Her face straightened as she grabbed both bags and shouldered them. "You both smell like fish." She evenly muttered. Her free hand went for the harness and let Beethoven lead her to the front doors.
"I picked up salmon for dinner tonight." He evenly reported.
She nodded and no more was said as their footsteps echoed down the hallways to the front door. The car was still running out front as her father repeated the same process with Beethoven before she got in. And as always, she hesitantly slid into the car and quickly buckled up, letting the drive back home lull her to relaxation. Nothing was said on the way home either.
The sun was setting as they headed inside. After putting her bags on the stand by the door for tomorrow, she slid the loafers off in the exact spot they were this morning. The sound of dry dog food hit her ears as her father poured for Beethoven. She let him have his supper as she made her way back to her bedroom, the sound of the small tv in the kitchen being turned on. Even though she shut the door, it was only cheap wood, and the news easily infiltrated through to her keen ears. She sighed and changed into her walking clothes and sat on her bed. She sat cross-legged position and focused on the quiet in her room to meditate for a while. She needed to let go of the stress of the day while she could. Soon, she would leave the sanctuary of her bedroom and it would all pile on her again.
A small scratch at the door gained her attention and her eyes opened as she got off the bed. She opened the door and got a whine. Wish a small smirk, she reached down and was instantly licked. "Hai, hai. Ikou BT-kun." Yeah, yeah. Let's go. The dog moved out of her way and she headed to the front door again. She donned the sneakers and jacket, grabbing her key before heading out on a night walk. Her eyes got two walks a day for exercise, though they weren't much. She just wasn't able to give her retriever the exercise he needed with full-time college in the way. It wasn't fair to Beethoven, but the dog was given enough time to walk around while he was with her father at work. They fixed it so Beethoven could be penned in the back of the restaurant without customers knowing.
By the time she got back, the aroma of cooked fish and vegetables floated to her nose through the door. She inhaled and felt her stomach rumble. The only time she was remotely close to being hungry was at night, after eating very little during the day. She locked the door behind her and was assaulted with the news once again. Quietly shaking her head, she took the harness off Beethoven and went to her room to put it away for the night. Afterwards, she changed to her pajamas and meditated some more until her father gave a single knock on her door that supper was ready.
Just like breakfast, supper was a silent meal. They ate without saying a word, though her father twisted the tv to watch as he ate. She finished everything on her plate, being a little hungrier than most days. She piled the chopsticks and tea glass on the plate and carried it to the sink for her father to do later. Not too long after she left the kitchen for her college bag, did the chair scoot back from the floor and his attention drawn to the sink. The tv was moved again as he turned the volume up to listen to the latest soccer scores. She almost hurried to her room to avoid the noisy contraption. Tv was such a noisy insect as far as she was concerned. Just before she started in on her homework in the dark, the larger tv in the living room was turned on, also turned up. Her teeth grit in annoyance, but she resolved to ignore it and turned the volume up on her recorder and ear bud.
The next two hours was spent feeding what she wanted into notes on her computer for studying later. She went over again what she typed down, listening to the mechanical female voice programmed inside. Once the necessities were over with, she blanked the tape and opened the story file she was working on. It was one of the big reports due for Thanksgiving and she was halfway done with it now. It was due for her advanced English writing class and it had to be a story of some kind. The things that mattered were grammar, spelling, flow of the story, the point, etc. Being enamored with language, for it was all she had now, she was extremely picky and went over what she had written once again. It was already six typed pages out of the required twenty. Of course it was double-spaced to make it easier on her poor teacher's eyes. She listened as the female voice reread everything and stopped the program to delete or add parts to it. Something just wasn't good enough about it...
A different voice announced that it was eight and she shut the computer down for the night. After everything was put back, she momentarily left her room to put it back and go brush her teeth. She noticed the tv was off and all the lights were out. Her father was already in his room and most likely asleep. She quietly brushed her teeth in the dark, repeating the same actions as this morning. It was a ritual, her schedule. She lived it day in and day out, and it was ingrained in her internal clock. This was all she knew. It wasn't much of a life, but it was what she was cursed to.
Her toothbrush went back in its normal spot as she crossed the short distance to her room. She reflexively locked the door to gain a small amount of safety before trekking to her bed. She turned the alarm back on and pulled the sheets back. As she settled, her ears picked up Beethoven's even breathing. "Oyasumi, Beethoven-kun." She whispered. Good night. The dog's only answer was a deep exhale. She gave a small smile in the dark and turned to face the wall.