Color-Blind

by Daya Daniels

  “What do you mean by normal kids?”

  “You know, not blind. They’re healthy. Her oldest daughter is lawyer.”

  “My dad told me my mother disappeared, never contacted us again.” She chuckled as she began to eat. “I hate her.”

  Even I knew that wasn’t true.

  “I thought maybe this lifestyle - you know having kids and everything wasn’t what she wanted for herself and maybe that’s why she left.”

  “But?” I asked, taking a piece of bacon in between my teeth.

  “But she went off and started a new family with someone else. She took care of those kids.

  “The private detective said that he had a family photograph of them in his possession, of the five of them. The father, my mother and the three daughters. It looked like it was taken at Christmas time.

  “It just shows that it wasn’t having children that she didn’t want. She just didn’t want me.” She whispered the last words.

  “She’s never tried to reach out to you?”

  “No.” Violet quipped. “So, fuck her.”

  I laughed. “You don’t really mean that, Violet.” I said firmly.

  “I do.” She said with watery eyes that dried up the moment I placed my hand over hers.

  She finished her food, setting the silverware down.

  “You do that a lot.” I pointed out.

  “What?”

  “Your mind wanders a lot.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, always.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I just dream about just one day showing up at her doorstep and punching her right in the face – my mother that is.”

  “Violet.”

  “I do. I’ve dreamt about it every day since I was little.”

  I chuckled.

  “It was hard for me growing up with just James. He did the best he could but it was always just him and I. My uncle David’s girlfriend helped where she could. It was bad enough I was blind but I was girl, you know.

  “I was teased a lot. Then on top of that kids would ask why I didn’t have a mother.

  “I’d tell them she was dead.”

  “Why are you opening up to me?” I asked curiously.

  She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I trust you, I guess. Can I trust you?”

  “Of course.”

  She shakes her head a few times, her long hair moving gracefully with the action. “I don’t talk about any of this stuff…ever. It’s too embarrassing.

  “Then even people that pretend to want to know how I really feel about my mother, don’t mean it.

  “They always find some way to throw it back up in my face later and use it against me. I don’t trust people, Elijah. I always get hurt.

  “I keep my private thoughts to myself, where they belong.”

  She took a long gulp of coffee and placed the cup back down. “No one likes me, Elijah.” She laughed. “I know why. I can’t blame them. I don’t blame them.”

  “I do.”

  She dropped her head, running her index finger over the rim of the plate in front of her. “I think I’m the loneliest person on earth.” She whispered.

  So am I.

  I moved closer to her, careful about asking too many questions, reluctant to push too hard, too fast. In no way did I want to play doctor with Violet but I was curious about so much. She was too delicate – too damaged. I was so used to peering into the lives of others and learning their deepest, darkest secrets. I wondered what someone would see if they looked into mine.

  “Why would you say that?” I questioned.

  “I live every day in my head. Men only want to fuck me and then they discard me, so I do it first.” She sighed. “Even when I think they care, they still try to take advantage of me somehow. I don’t hope for any less anymore. They always end up with the normal girls no matter what.

  “I’m a burden to Brooke. I know she loves me but much of my life takes up half of hers. I hate it. I want to take care of myself. I want to learn how to drive.

  “It’s part of the reason I like being here, with you. You don’t remind me all the time that I’m blind. I feel normal when I’m here, even though I know I’m not.

  “You never say anything about me being blind.” She said softly.

  I smiled. “What is there to say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What was your first time like?” She asked with a smile, grabbing her coffee cup.

  The abrupt change of subject stunned me.

  “You first?” I nudged her in the shoulder.

  She shifted uncomfortably, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve been with a lot of men, Elijah.”

  “I didn’t ask you about them. I asked you about the first one.”

  She pursed her lips and exhaled. “I was sixteen and at a party. I got too drunk and I woke up with Jeremy on top of me, already inside of me. He was the older brother of this bitch named Allison that I grew up with.” She laughed.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean, Violet?”

  “We were having sex. I was having sex with him.” She whispered. “It hurt like hell.”

  Clutching her arm, I yanked her into me hard. “Violet, that-is-rape?”

  “Nooo.” She shook her head vigorously from side to side. “No, it wasn’t. He told me it wasn’t. Besides by the time I woke up, it was almost over. It was my fault. I was drunk.” She mumbled.

  I hurt for you.

  “Did you ever tell anyone?” I asked barely able to contain my rage.

  “No, Jeremy beat me to the bunch.” She laughed while her eyes filled with tears. “He told all his friends we’d fucked so the rumors had already begun and when I confronted him he told me he hadn’t told a soul but it was a lie.” She giggled with an exasperated breath. “I was the school slut after that. So, I sort of just became one.

  “It would’ve killed me then if my dad found out but he never did. I couldn’t wait to get out of Jacksonville.”

  “Violet.” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  She waved me away. “It’s nothing to be sorry for Elijah. I’m fine.”

  Pulling her into my lap, I held her tight pressing a kiss to her lips. “I want to take you somewhere.”

  Violet

  I gripped the steering wheel in front of me, inhaling the pungent scent of leather and gasoline. I squealed like Richard Simmons right before he breaks out into jumping jacks. The excitement that thrummed through me was similar to the sensation I had when I wanted/needed to paint. The desperation to get rid of pent up energy and frustration. It was likened when my belly tightened right before Elijah and I would fuck.

  “Okay, so you’re going hit the gas on the right and the brake is on your left.”

  “Oh, my God. What if we die?”

  Elijah laughed and whispered into my ear. “You’re not going to die, Violet.”

  The cool air hit me when the window goes down and the truck rumbled as it idled in place. I was sitting in Elijah’s lap, his large body wrapped around mine. I slumped into his chest and took a deep breath.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “We’re in a field. A very big field. There’s no one around.”

  “No one?”

  “No, no one.”

  I smiled. “What time is it?”

  “It’s late, after twelve at night.” He whispered.

  I pressed my foot to the gas. The truck jerked forward and I giggled, clutching the steering wheel tighter. We rolled forward and the diesel engine roared when I hit the gas harder.

  Elijah exploded into laughter when I leaned forward turning the wheel left and then right slowly, sinking into the sensation of moving this powerful vehicle forward.

  “This is so cool!”

  The music on the radio becomes louder. Marilyn Manson’s I Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me) blares from the speakers.

  We do a few of what feel like circles. Occasionally, Elijah’s warm hand covers mine
steering the truck the right way but the feeling of just driving is incredible. The wind rushes through my hair, causing it to go everywhere and the breeze hits my face.

  I hit the brake and the truck comes to a stop. I bounced in placed teasingly, grinding myself in his lap.

  “Stop.” He chuckled. “You’re supposed to be concentrating.”

  I hit the gas again, really flooring it this time while bobbing my head to the music screaming the lyrics to the song at the top of my lungs. “This is so cool!”

  After a few more circles we came to a stop.

  Elijah’s hand covered mine guiding it to put the truck in park. It shuts off and it becomes silent again. I’m breathing heavily and still giggling like a fool.

  “Oh, my God. Is that what it’s like to drive?”

  “Yeah, it’s even better on the highway.”

  I threw my head back against his chest and just breathed. “That was incredible.”

  “It is. It’s sort of why I don’t mind driving. It’s relaxes me.”

  “What kind of truck is this anyways?”

  “You, my dear.” He announced in a posh English accent. “Are sitting in the driver’s seat of a splendid blue 1967 Ford F-250 Highboy, restored at the expert hands of Asher Griffon himself.”

  “Cool. Wow. Thank you. I want to do this again.” I said twisting around in his hold and planting a hard kiss to his lips.

  He giggled into my mouth, running his hands over my shoulders and back. His large hand slid around and held the back of my neck while I wrapped my legs around him, grinding myself against his hard-on through his jeans. I kissed him harder, teasing his lips, sucking on the top and bottom ones letting them go with a pop.

  I pulled the hem of the flowy wool dress I’m wearing up to my waist quickly and slipped my hands into my panties hesitantly.

  “It’s dark here.” He said. “I’ve shut the headlights off.”

  I shoved my jacket off my shoulders in a frenzy, listening to him shift beneath me. I ran my fingers over the magnificent length of him absorbing the sound of him hissing. I undid his zipper and pulled his cock out, earning a groan from him. The seat dipped back and I straddled him, wiping the wetness from my seam. I smoothed it over his hot flesh, massaging him slow.

  I stifled a small laughed when he choked out a moan.

  I positioned myself in a squat hovering over him with my legs parted as wide as they could go giving him an unforgettable show. I used one hand to rub relentless circles over my clit and the other to jerk him off. I’m close to exploding.

  I slowed and ran my hand along his slickened cock from root to tip, nearly drooling from the way it felt in my hand, thick and hot and long. I moaned each time it twitched in my grip. I swiped my thumb over the head, using the precum that dribbled from there and coated his shaft with it. The incredible man beneath me groaned again and I knew before the night was out, I’d be riding this thing like a jockey.

  “Fuck, Violet.” He growled with a hiss.

  I pushed two fingers into my slit, dragging them out slow to massage my clit. Soon my pussy was throbbing and clenching and I was tossed over the edge, falling into a powerful orgasm that left me dizzy and breathless.

  I panted still running my hand over his thick, hard flesh that exploded in front of me soaking my hand and the inside of my thighs in thick streams of cum.

  “You’re fucking incredible.” He whined with a groan, still finding his air.

  “I’m glad you think so.” I smirked putting my back against the steering wheel.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Elijah

  “Melissa, I’ve already given you a two-month supply of Zoloft. If you’re mixing this with other medications, it could really spell trouble.”

  “I’m not, Dr. Griffon. I promise you.”

  “How have you been?”

  I knew how someone sounded when they felt out of options – that desperate tone. The almost-cry for help. The shame they might’ve been feeling from being consumed by their own thoughts of ending it all for the goal to simply be free of it all.

  “Things are okay.” She told me in a small voice but I knew it was a lie.

  That was another thing you became good at as a psychiatrist. You learned how to read people and not just in the way they looked but the tone of their voice. You picked up on when they hesitated to respond to simple questions. You could tell if they were on other medications, alcohol or recreational drugs. Melissa didn’t need to be in front of me for me to know that her hands were likely shaking – the anxiety she suffered from taking over, aggravated by the recent stress she was clearly under.

  “Why don’t you consider a short stay at our treatment center.” I suggested. “Depression can take a toll on other areas of your life. Medication alone won’t do the trick sometimes.”

  “I don’t need that.” She chuckled. “My husband yesterday, he left me and I found out he was cheating on me. Can you believe that? He’s cheating on me and he leaves. He doesn’t even give me the opportunity to kick him out.” She laughed.

  “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “How’s that left you feeling?”

  She wept on the other end of the line. “I don’t know, Dr. Griffon. I guess I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say I knew this was coming.”

  “Let’s consider this. I put you in one of the treatment programs. Insurance pays for it so it will be of no cost to you. There we can really assess your needs.

  “I have to be honest. I’m not comfortable giving you more than Zoloft, which I believe you’re mixing with prescription pain medication.” I told her sternly.

  “I’m not, Dr. Griffon.”

  “Consider it a vacation of sorts, time to regroup and recharge. When we hang up, I’m going to send you an email and get you booked in for later today.

  “In the meantime, I want you to pack a small bag just a for a week and tell whoever you need to that you are going to a place where they can take care of you. I’ll have Dr. Leonard take you from there. I’ll visit you tomorrow.

  “Okay.” She said in a hushed tone.

  “Okay. Please call me back if you have any questions but I’ll give you a call as soon as your spot is confirmed in a few hours.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Griffon.”

  Hitting the end button on the phone, I placed it down and pushed myself in my desk chair across the wooden floors closer to the bay window. It’s absolutely breathtaking outside – blue sky, warm sun and cool crisp air. People wandered the beach with their dogs, while a few kids splashed in the water and kicked around a football. Squeezing the stress ball in my right hand, I observed the small family closely while they laughed and played. Freezing for a moment, the warmest memories rolled through me – at least the ones I wanted to remember.

  The salty air washed over me that crept through the crack in the windows, jolting me out of my trance. Standing, I flipped through my agenda for the rest of the day. I’m free. Usually, when I finished with my patients I’d hit the gym for two hours and then head to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I’d always kept myself busy. I needed to keep myself busy.

  It was tempting to simply rush from my office to find the beautiful woman that I’d left wrapped up in my white sheets and fuck her mindlessly, until she couldn’t take anymore but I promised Dylan I’d finish what I promised him.

  It was getting up to nine in the morning. I’d left Violet’s breakfast in the microwave. We’d settled into such a homely routine and having her here was good. It was different but I told myself again that it was good. The house felt alive, full of warmth and energy. So different from the way it had been these last few years.

  Reaching for the small book, I make myself more comfortable with the intention of finishing the story, since I was nearly to the end already of the fourth book in the series. I flipped to the page I’d last left off on in J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and began to read.

  Elijah

  I found her standing in front of the open French d
oors, wearing nothing but a white T-shirt of mine. Her creamy skin was exposed and her face was bright. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a thick mass of dark brown waves, while her hand remained perched on the edge of the door. I’m curious as to what she’s focusing on, since I know she can’t see but the look on her face, as she gazed out to the beach in the distance ahead would have anyone believe, she was able to see everything out there.

  Yellow by Coldplay echoes from the iPod dock on the nightstand on low volume.

  I approached slowly, quietly and before I even made it close, she’d spun in my direction and a smile spreads across her face.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were up.” I said quietly.

  I met those big hazel eyes and wandered closer, placing my hand over hers.

  “Thank you for breakfast.” She whispered.

  “You’re welcome. I’m impressed you’re able to find your way around this place so easily.”

  “I’ve been blind all my life, Elijah. I’m a fast learner.” She smiled.

  I eased up behind her, running my hands over her hips, nuzzling my face in her neck, inhaling everything her.

  “I believe you.” I said, spinning her around in my arms and pulling her against me, growing insanely hard at the feeling of her soft breasts as they brushed against my chest.

  I claimed her mouth with mine, pulling her into a violent kiss, yanking her up in my arms. Her thighs wrapped around me, as I headed across the room, cupping each one of her ass cheeks in each hand. A small moan left her mouth and her hands moved through my hair. When I reached the edge of the bed, I eased her down on the edge, removing the T-shirt, exposing her bare skin to me. Her hands settled at my waist and her eyes in my direction. I skimmed her cheek with my fingers, letting out a long breath.

  “What’s the matter?” She asked.

  I only stared at her, feeling speechless, my throat full of everything I want to say, yet can’t.

  This bedroom looked so different. This entire house did really, since I’d remodeled it and had new furniture and appliances brought in. I was able to bring myself to toss everything out of this house, except for what was in Dylan’s bedroom. I hadn’t slept in this bed since the movers put it here but it was nice, I realized after sleeping in it with Violet these last few nights.