You don't know how good you had it until it's gone. Unfortunately, you never had it.

***

"(Y/n), are you ready to go?" Your father mumbles, shoveling things into his satchel.

Your ears are filled with the sounds of crinkling paper and your perfectly pink lips tug into a soft smile. Turning your head towards the noises of your frustrated parent, you nod your head.

You're blind. Pretty obvious, huh? You were born that way. Only thing is, your vision isn't completely black like most blind people. Maybe you're a abnormal freak, maybe you had this sight because you were special? People often thought you faked being blind because you could look in the direction they were standing and they hadn't even made a noise. Call it a hunch? You learned to accept the fact that everything will be tougher on you. Even people. You have been dealing with insults for nineteen years now.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go." You fumble around with the white bandages covering your eyes.

People always gawked at how your eyes were so hazy, so unattractive. It made you feel withdrawn and tasteless. The comments got so hostile that you decided enough was enough. If people were going to judge you over something so insignificant, then they weren't going to see your eyes at all. Eyepatches made you look cheap. Sunglasses made you look too snobbish. Then you were rummaging through the under bathroom sink and found bandages used for soaking up dribbling blood. You tied them around your forehead and all the way over your eyes, leaving your nose and mouth free. It made you feel unique. The look stuck with you ever since.

"Good. Let's go," your dad walks over and takes your slim, smooth hand into his and walks you over to the front door.

"You never mentioned why you're taking me to work. Why?" You let him lead you out to the car.

"You always have your ears plugged up with earphones to listen to audio books and you never get out enough. I wanted to change that. Besides, don't you want to experience being somewhere with other people that aren't normal like you?"

You climb into the passengers seat and loop the seat belt over your chest. Leaning back into your seat, all you can think about is getting back into the house where no one judged you. Your father doesn't know how bad the depression is. It would be better if you locked yourself in your room.

Ever since your mother died, things haven't been the same.

"Yeah... I suppose it would be nice to go somewhere new."

***

The car pulls up at the place your dad happens to work, an insane asylum. He had told you stories and tales of how crazy the lunatics are in this place. Not just mentally ill people are brought here for safe keeping. No, people with weird appearances are also brought here to keep them away from the outside world. That's also another reason you don't like to take off the bandages. What if they locked you up in here?

Bringing a finger up to your lips, your fingertips run over the chapped surface of dried skin. Your dad stares at you from the corner of his eye before turning off the car and taking the keys out of the ignition. You unclip your seat belt and get out of the car.

"Am I allowed to walk around the place?" You ask as your walk around the car and your dad takes your hand once again.

"Yeah, just as long as you don't stray near the cells we keep the creeps locked up in." Your dad walks you up to the large metal doors and slips in his key card to open it up.

You zip your mouth shut after that. If you asked anymore, you would overwhelm your already stressed father. His mind is already going one-hundred miles per-hour all the time. He's always thinking about work and things he could be doing instead of relaxing. You try not to be too complicated for him. You two walk down a large hallway filled with murmurs of the the people pushed in cells without their consent. No one yelled and screamed for freedom like you expected. They were very well mannered. Only thing that bothered you was the millions of eyes pinned to your walking form, all of which felt extremely sour.

"They don't seem so bad." You pat your dad's back with your free hand.

"They are. Trust me."

On the way to his office, many of the works greeted you and your father out of kindness. Made you feel at ease. He walks you into his office and the paranoia fades like white noise when the door closes. Not having any eyes stabbing into your skin felt nice. Being watched never set well with you, seeing as you couldn't efficiently look around for who was staring at you. It was always unsettling.

"May I go look-... walk around now?" You plead while leaning onto the edge of his splintery desk.

"Will you take a walking stick? For me?"

Your face twists into a scowl and you cross your arms over your chest. Your father heaves a heavy, almost dismayed sigh. He knew you didn't like walking sticks, yet, he always insisted you take one with you. You know he wants you to be careful but you have another way of protecting yourself. Not just from solid objects. You can't deny that you haven't ran into anything a couple times.

"Not happening. I'll only be walking through the hallways and talking with the 'creeps'." You lift up your hands and make quotation marks with your fingers.

"You will not talk to them. They're dangerous-"

"They're different and frustrated." You cut him off with your bitter sounding voice.

Before he can object and fuss at you some more, you latch your hand onto the door handle and walk out of the room with fire following behind you. Just to get the point that you were enraged across, you slam his office door. Some of the workers look your way but quickly turn a blind eye. After this visit, you may not ever come here again. You have trouble keeping attitude to yourself. It's got you and your family in a lot of trouble.

You navigate yourself back to the hallway you first walked through. But this time, your hand runs over a wooden door and your curiosity gets the best of you. You open up the door and step into the room with one hand presses against your chest. Holding out your hand to walk yourself through the room, the tips of your right fingertips press over the cold metal of a cell door. You squeak and back away, obeying your father and staying away from the cell doors. Who knows what would happen. You didn't think there would be more cells located from the main ones down the hallway. Honestly, you thought you walked into a janitors closet.

"Hey, what's wrong? Scared?" One deep voice echoes from the cell you stepped away from.

"I can't see, jerk. I'm being cautious." You snap back, getting a chuckle from a different cell. Only it was feminine.

"No, it looks more like you're frightened. What a scaredy cat you are. Come over here and I'll give you something to be scared about." The woman, or little girl, giggles at how confused you looked.

"Aye, ye be shakin' in ye boots." A heavy, pirate accent echoes from the cell beside the female.

You shrink down and remind yourself that they're in the cells and you're not. If you wanted, you could taunt them and get away with it. But since your heart isn't cold enough for that, you keep quiet and let the voices chat amongst themselves.

"Guys, leave her alone. Can't you see she can't exactly see?" A soft, respectful voice warns from the far right cell located in the back of the room.

"What? Cut us some slack. It's not everyday we get new visitors. Oh wait, we never have." The same rough voice complains like a baby.

"She is our first visitor ever! I think BonBon is right. We should go easy on her." The little girls cooes from her cell.

"Sorry we we're bein' rough, Lass."

Talk about bipolar. Your eyebrows crease and your lips purse into a thin, emotionless line as all eyes fall on you and wait for you to say something. As the silence thickens into awkwardness, that same smooth voice calls out.

"I have a question, Miss."

You clench your hands into fists and walk over to where the voice came from. Unlike all the others, you think this guy means no harm.

"What would your question be?" You tip your head while facing the cell. From the looks of it, you were only a foot away from the cell door. If the guy inside wanted to get you bad enough, he could grab the front of your shirt.

"Actually, I have two questions. What is your name and why do you have those bandages around your eyes? Sorry, I'm just really curious."

At least he was kind enough to warn you first. Good thing someone in this room has some decency.

"My name is (Y/n), and I have these bandages over my eyes to hide them from people. People find hazy eyes disgusting."

You don't get any words in return. As your stomach is continually doing flips from the silence filling the air, a hand dips through the bars on the cell door and an ice cold hand caresses your right cheek. His hand was so cold against your skin that you thought he was left in a freezer for hours. No wonder you couldn't see him, much less detect him. You didn't know how to respond. Pull away? Kindly tell him to stop?

"I'm sure your eyes are beautiful just like you are." His voice whispers, the side of his head pressed against the bars as his abnormally red eyes shine through the bandages wrapped around his face, as well.

"Oohh, BonBon getting his flirt on!" The girl cheers, clapping her hands behind your back.

Your cheeks flush red pure red and warms up the guys hand more than your cheek already was. His thumb runs over the edge of your bandages then pulls away back through the bars. All you can do is stand there slightly confused, flustered, and a bit disappointed that he pulled his hand away so soon.

"You should go. The guards will be here to check on us any minute." The guy mumbles, his hand gripping the bars.

You send him a 'see you later' smile before heading for the exit. If he could smile back and you could see it, then he would. Let's just say he was smiling on the inside. You open up the door and turn your head back, a smile still plastered to your face.

"I never got your names."

"Come back soon and we'll tell you." His bright red eyes light up slightly, eager for you to return soon... and you hadn't even left the room yet.

"Deal," then you slip out of the room and close the door.

When they know you're gone and not coming back, the girl screams and dances around in her cell while the pirate beside her cell groans and hits his head against the wall multiple times.

"Bonnie, you're in love! Aw, that is so cute. My baby boy is growing up." She wipes a fake tear from her eye.

"Shut up, Chica. I don't even know her."

"But ye had yer hand on the Lass's cheek. That be a sign of like-like, hm?" The red-head teases his purple friend.

"Will you guys shut up?" The purple-nette shrinks back into the back of his cell.

Then everything falls quiet and all that's heard is the soft breathing of the four in there. That is, until the brunette decides to speak up.

"You like her."

"I said shut up!"

----

*Claps hands together and points* Not love at first sight, folks. Just some mixed feelings. Be ready for slow-burn (kind of).

This book is or my best friend and sister-like figure AyyyLexi She's obsessed and I wanted to help her obsession grow. You're welcome.

Word count: 2070