The Non-Seen Portrait

I am a girl who is always up for the challenge, no matter how insanely hard or impossible that problem might seem. The challenge that I was faced with seemed too much, and I did not believe that I could do it. And to make it seem even worse, all I had to do was something truly very simple. I had to draw a self portrait.

"Mom, I can't do it," I said, readjusting myself in my chair. I wasn't comfortable, with myself or where I was sitting, but I couldn't help it. I am not allowed to walk, given my situation.

"Darling, yes you can," she reassured me. She put her cold, slender hand on my face, and rubbed my cheek. I suddenly felt warm and tingly, then cocked my head a little to one side.

"I'm not good enough," I said, wiping a warm tear. I shook my head, and sat back in my chair. The chair was soft, and the fabric was plumped up under me, as well as a pillow. My feet were splayed out in front of me, and I turned the wheels on my wheelchair a little bit.

"Mariah, I wish you wouldn't say that about yourself. You're just, challenged," she said, her voice full of love and sadness. I could tell very easily what someone sounded like, and I memorized their voices. At this point, she sounded frustrated, and exasperated.

"Well, I wish I wasn't Mom. You don't understand," I said. I was annoyed with myself, and I wouldn't stop being. I hate being the challenged kid, even if I always rise to the problem that I am facing. I then looked around the darkened room, and asked what time it was.

I wondered if it was morning or evening, because Mom had just closed the curtains. "It's about 8:30. Do you want to go to the art store and get the coloring supplies for your portrait?" she asked. I nodded, because I just wanted to get the whole project over with. This was one challenge that I was not looking forward to.

"Sure, let's go. What color are my eyes again?" I asked, with a curious tone. I couldn't ever remember off the top of my head, but then again, who can? I also couldn't remember a lot of stuff now, but it makes sense, my condition and all.

"Blackish-gray, honey. Would you also like us to be able to get other things while we are there, or just the coloring supplies? I know you don't like having the options. Nod once if you just want the coloring stuff, and twice if you want to look for more. "

I nodded once, and sat up in my chair. It was true that I didn't really like making the big -or small- decisions, so I just wanted to get this thing done. I was already bored with it, and we haven't even started. I started to feel my chair move, and looked around, worried.

"It's just me, honey. Don't worry," she said in a soothing way. It was nice to hear her voice, even if she talked too loud at points. My senses were heightened, and in more of a bad way than a good. I knew I'd always be safe, but I worry.

Mom pushed me to the car, and we rode the way. I sat and put in the earplugs that were around my neck, turning on my music. My mom patted my knee after the car stopped, and we got out.

I felt the change in atmosphere when the cooling system rushed out, making me notice that we were now inside of the store. Mom handed me a shopping bag, and we walked along. The store was huge, with many twists, turns, and messy aisles. Mom grabbed art supplies of every kind, which is what she told me. Glue, pencils, markers, and everything in-between. I got nervous, though, because I didn't want to mess the project up. If I did, I might disappoint Mom, and I care more about her than if I really want to do something or not.

"Okay, honey, we are at the checkout," Mom told me. She took the basket from my hands and I heard the register beep. It took longer than I thought it was, so she must have gotten a lot of stuff. When we finally got out of the store, the Central Florida humidity hit me.

"Bleugh. It's hot," I said, sticking my tongue out for good measure. Mom chuckled, and pushed me to the car a little faster. She turned the AC on, and we drove away. I reached for my earplugs, but Mom pushed my hands down.

"How about I choose this time, honey?" she asked. I nodded, and she turned on my favorite music ever: Michael Buble's Christmas track. We hummed and sang together, and eventually pulled into the driveway. As Mom pushed me in, I got curious.

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Will you help me while I'm drawing?"

"Of course, honey. I'd be happy to," she said, rubbing my cheeks again. She rolled me over to our table, and unpacked the art supplies. She pointed out each, and instructed me on what to draw where.

"Okay, now Mariah, you need to draw two ovals for your eyes. Can you do that, or do you need me to help you with it?" Mom asked me, holding the hand I had my pencil in.

"I.... think I have it. That's the one with four sides, right?" I asked.

Mom laughed a bit, and took my hand in hers. She drew a little oval with her fingers, and showed me how to draw it. I did it, and finished coloring about an hour later.

Mom held it up and gasped.

"You got it perfect! It looks just like you honey!" she exclaimed, and she wrapped me in one of her patented "Mom Hugs". I hugged her back, just as hard, and I felt something wet fall on my head.

"Momma? Are you okay?" I asked. I heard her sniffle, and she clenched my hand harder.

"Yes baby. Of course it is. It's just hard, seeing you and how far you've come. Especially with this! Especially considering..." she said, not being able to finish. I decided to finish for her.

"Especially considering that I am blind?"