- Age / Gender:
- 23, Male
- North Carolina
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Level 4 Writer
Ranked as Civilian
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Title: "I'm blind, MOTHERFUCKER!"
Steve woke up. He wasn't sure if it was morning or evening, he couldn't tell the difference anyway. He felt hungry so he walked to the kitchen. There are exactly thirty-six steps from his bed to the kitchen sink, every step etched in his memory. He pulled out the least grubby frying pan and stepped to his massive pile of bananas under the cabinet.
Steve wasn't much for big breakfasts, but today was a big day, so he went all out. Steve fried up eight large bananas. Patches, Steve's seeing eye dog, came running up. Steve rubbed Patches head and spoke. "Today's special, buddy. We'll have to look our best. This was the eleven year anniversary of the day Steve went blind. And the day Steve planned to get his revenge.
Walking from the kitchen to his closet, he memorized the path around old pizza boxes and taxidermied animals from habit. He muttered to himself while rummaging through his closet, "What to wear?" He wasn't sure what looked nice, or what colors his clothes were, to be honest he barely remembered what colors looked like. He pulled up a shirt that he thought was red, but he couldn't remember what the difference between red and blue was.
He gave up trying to decide and chose the outfit that seemed the most intimidating to him. Once he changed they walked out of the apartment and into the hallway. As they entered the elevator to go down he heard his neighbor Gary inside.
"What the fuck are you wearing?" asked Gary in a mean tone. Steve responded, "Earth to Gary, I'm Blind! I'm sorry that I can't perfectly color coordinate my clothes to match. If my eyes worked, then maybe I could dress better. So maybe you shouldn't mock the disabled!" Gary replied, "You're wearing a bra on the outside of your t-shirt, a skirt with the word JUICY' on your ass, a pair of green gloves, and while wearing a Fedora hat! And under that bra, does that t-shirt say 'Fuck the Indians'? That's really racist." Steve replied, "It's not racist, it doesn't mean 'Native American Indians', it means people from 'India' Indians." Gary replied, "That's still racist." Steve responded as the door opened to the ground floor, "I'm one-eighth Indian, it means I want to fuck. Or I want to bang Indian chicks."
Steve left the elevator and walked through the lobby to the sidewalk. He felt the warmth on his skin so he assumed it was a sunny day. He asked a passerby the time, and he started walking towards the prison. Brad was about to get released from prison, the man who caused Steve to go blind. Eleven years ago, Steve caught Brad stealing from in the apartment. Steve held him down until the cops arrived, but in the struggle Brad scratched Steve's corneas causing him to go blind. Steve had a mental breakdown after he went blind, and was never the same since.
By the time Steve got to the prison gates, he knew Brad would be out at any minute. Patches growled slowly and Steve heard footsteps coming towards him. Steve grabbed them by the collar and yelled, "Son of a bitch! Are you ready to die?!" He instantly realized this was the wrong person, he accidentally grabbed an elderly woman. Steve apologized as she quickly scuffled away.
Immediately he heard, "You again, you're the freak with the bananas!" He knew it was Brad, so Steve replied, "You ruined my life once I lost my sight. I lost my job as a photographer, I could never drive again, and my girlfriend even left me. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to masturbate when you can't see anything on the screen?" "Steve, you put me in prison, I'm going to put you in a grave!" Steve pulled out his handgun. Startled, Brad said "You're blind, why do you have a gun?!" Steve replied, "If someone goes blind they still have freedom of speech under the first amendment, and they still have the right to bear arms under the second. Legal rights are not taken away because of physical handicap according to the Americans with Disabilities Act!"
Steve fired a barrage of bullets in Brad's general direction while screaming, CONSTITUTION! Then he waited for a moment, and listened intently. Steve asked, "Are you dead or are you just being quiet?" Brad grabbed him from behind and threw Steve to the ground. Kick after kick came out of the darkness, he missed his sight more than ever. Then Steve felt the gun being forced out of his hands while he heard, "Any last words, Freak?" Memories flashed before his non-working eyes, places from long ago and images of people he used to know rolled in his consciousness. He realized his life had been rather shitty.
Patches came out of nowhere and bit Brad, "Ahhhhh!" A couple police officers from the station came running and grabbed Brad from behind. The cop said, "You're going back for a long time Brad. Now lets get your prints off of this gun." Brad screamed and pleaded as he was brought back into prison to await his upcoming trial.
A police officer helped Steve get back on his feet and said, "I was around the side of the building when your dog came over barking like crazy, when I came over I saw him assaulting you. Your dog saved your life." Steve just smiled and thanked the officer. While walking back to his apartment Steve felt grateful towards his canine, and for the fact that the cop didn't see him firing the gun. "Lets go to the grocery store before we go home, Patches. I'm gonna to buy you a big steak tonight."
Word Count: 975
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Total Medals Earned: 1 (From 1 different game.)