I feel like the end Authors Note is important, so if you would read that, that would be awesome. :)

Everett's eyes were locked on what he knew was the ceiling. He laid on his back, hands knitted together as they rested on his abdomen. He couldn't tell whether or not it was still night time.

He felt tired still.

But perhaps that was more attributed to the fact that he had a hard time falling asleep last night rather than the time. His baby brother had been sick all night and his cries rang throughout the house until the wee hours of the night. He could only imagine how little sleep his parents got. Several times during the night, Everett had listened to the engine of his father's Mercedes start up, most likely for medicine of some sort.

For not the first time, Everett felt helpless. There was borderline nothing he could do to help them. All he could do was lay there in his bed and listen. What else was there for him to do? He knew as well as anyone else that he would only be in the way if he were to get up and try to help. Of course, he wasn't completely dependent on other people; he could do a few things on his own.

He could get around the house and backyard easily enough. He knew where his braille books were and he had his mother sit down and help him with the movies; it had taken more than a week to do, but every case now had embossed letters for him to feel and recognize. They did the same thing with every CD case they owned at the time and acquired since then.

He no longer needed help in those departments.

The kitchen was one of the easiest places for him to navigate. Everything had been in the same spot since he was small. There was rarely an occasion where he had to call for some assistance in there and it was usually due to the fact that something had merely been misplaced and he didn't know where it had gone.

But in times like these, Everett knew he had no place in the rest of the house, attempting to coddle and comfort a one year old baby. He, and his parents, would be better off if he just stayed put.

Everett knew for a fact that he had been a hardship on his parents since that accident eleven years ago. It took a long time for him to get on his own two feet, as well as he could, anyways.

It wasn't easy for him to learn how to be human again. He felt like he had lost a complete part of himself. When he lost his vision, he had become fully dependent on everyone else. To make things even worse, Jeffrey had pushed him away. With Three boys running around the house, there was only so much attention that could be divided between them with only two parents. But when his impairment came into play, Everett became the heart of the family.

Jeffrey had been shoved aside, and Everett couldn't fault him for the tension that had built between them. Even though Jesse had been quite young as well, Everett still remained the focus of his parents attention.

But the truth of the matter was clear: he needed attention of his parents. He wouldn't have been able to survive without it.

Thankfully, his older brother got over it after a little while, letting his hardened feelings slide; but Everett got the feeling that the memories and resentment still lingered somewhere in Jeffrey's mind. After all, whenever he came home to visit, their mother still fussed over Everett, making sure he was okay and that he hadn't done anything to injure himself.

Everett felt regret and guilt whenever he thought about it.

And then there came the long line of emotions and thoughts that came whenever he thought about his older brother.

What did his family look like now? Well, he knew what his parents looked like - he was sure they had stayed the same since he was a child. But his brothers? They have had a chance to grow up. They were bigger now. The last time Everett and Jesse stood side by side, Jesse felt almost as big as he was; they were nearly the same height as opposed to the scrawny short little boy that he remembered.

It was weird to think of his young brother being all grown up, even though he still lived under the same roof as he and spoke with him every day. Everett, in his mind, could only visualize the small little boy that walked around with a plastic guitar and over-sized sunglasses in the living room.

And what about Cole? Everett had never even seen him. He scowled at nothing as he realized that he could guess from here to tomorrow and still have no idea what his youngest sibling looked like.

Jeffrey got married a little over two years ago. What did his wife look like? He was at their wedding, but what was the feel of it? When you looked, what did you think of? He had no idea. He knew that everyone kept talking about a Winter Wonderland theme, but that told him next to nothing. It was one of the more frustrating things. He lived and was related to these people, but he was lost. He felt as if he didn't belong in their world.

An annoying buzz that came from his left brought Everett back to reality. It was obviously day time and it was time to get up and move around; time to get ready for the day. His hand reached out and slapped the button on top of his clock, silencing the awful noise.

Pushing the covers down to his knees, Everett pulled his legs out from under the blankets and swung his feet over the side. He stood and turned to his left, counting his steps as he slowly walked. "One ... two ... three ... four ..."

As expected, once he hit six, he had touched the door to his bathroom. He repeated the routine as he made his way towards his shower and got into his usual swing of things. It was hard sometimes, being unable to see. Everett hated that he couldn't enjoy things that other people could enjoy. It bugged and irked him. He couldn't run and play baseball with Jesse. He couldn't go bowling. He could barely go swimming, but he basically had to have a babysitter for it. He couldn't even drive.

Everett felt trapped. And it usually manifested itself in his attitude and demeanor. He wasn't unpleasant. But he was still a little aggressive at times. He supposed that it was just his natural reaction to things at this point. His introverted nature kept him away from people anyways. Having a disability fueled that fire, nearly making him a recluse. He shied away from people, even those who helped. His friends all became a figment of the imagination; nothing but a hole in his dying heart. His own family no longer brought him the comfort and reassurance they once did. In fact, he resented them more than anything.

How fair was it that while he struggled through life, not knowing who was beside him, or if anyone was there at all, that they had the pleasure of being able to view the world still? He was in total darkness and he could do nothing about it.

At first, it frightened him; for a young boy who was still afraid of the dark, being trapped in the hollow world that his blindness brought him was excruciating. He was scared. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live?

He asked himself these questions every day, that is, until the answer came to him around his thirteenth birthday, and oh, what a simple answer it was. It rang clear in his mind like the sound of crystal being tapped: life was no longer his to enjoy.

After this grand revelation came to him, Everett sought shelter in the only world he could still enjoy: music. The piano became his best friend and he knew it better than anyone. Everyday he sat there after school, listening to the notes and practicing the best he could.

When his parents finally figured out that this was the only thing keeping their son on this side of sanity, they hired out the most skilled piano instructor available. At first, Everett protested. He had the desire to figure this out on his own. But when he learned how much he was missing by not having an instructor, he quickly gave in. It didn't take him long to master the instrument. His teacher was almost disappointed with the speed with which his pupil learned, but proud none-the-less.

Everett was happy, to a degree. It was no longer him against the world. It was just him and his music.

Trying to block out the painful memories, and doing so unsuccessfully, Everett exited his shower, grabbing a towel from a nearby stand and drying off, before counting his steps back to his bedroom. It was almost second nature, being able to count his steps while thinking of other things.

Everett had refused to use a white cane in any other environment than the one his school provided. At least there, he was safe from the scrutinizing stares of people his own age.

Letting out a small growl, Everett fumbled for his closet door a moment, before swinging it open.

Now came the fun part.

Taking a deep breath and concentrating, Everett ran his fingers very slowly over the various fabrics hung up in his closet. He passed his formal attire, the smooth suit jacket giving that away and swung right into his school clothes. He felt each shirt, trying to find the right one for today. He felt a collar and scowled. He wasn't in the mood to be choked by a polo today. So it went until he felt a regular T-Shirt and sighed in relief. He could tell by the wear in the article of clothing that this was his favorite v-neck. It was black, and from what he was told aside from that, it went great with the vest that hung further back in his closet.

Everett skipped through the hangers expertly until he felt the fabric of the vest and yanked it off it's hanger, slipping his arms through the holes. After pulling on a pair of jeans and feeling around for his shoes, Everett walked back to his bed and pulled the covers tight.

If there was one thing he was thankful, it was the fact that his family no longer babied him to the extent that they used to. They had helped him figure out how to do things like this on his own. Ninety percent of the time, he was sure the bed wasn't perfect or that his clothes weren't perfectly folded or maybe his outfit didn't completely match some days, but the fact that he was able to do things like this himself pleased him greatly. He enjoyed having some sense of independence.

Even though there were many at his school that were independant, both like him and even more so, he knew several others who were constantly pampered by their parents, taking full advantage of their disablity; their clothes were laid out every morning. Breakfast was served in bed. They weren't learning how to get out on their own. Of course, Everett understood that everyone approached the situation differently, but he just couldn't imagine being at the complete mercy of everyone else. It was bad enough as it was without having people hold your hand everywhere you went.

With a sigh, Everett grabbed his backpack and his folded cane before making his way to his bedroom door. His room was on the first level of the house. He had wanted a second story room, but that was where his parents drew the independence line.

It was okay if he wanted to do things on his own, but they were just terrified that he would try to take the stairs one day, mess up, and fall. They loved him too much to let anything bad happen to him, not if they could prevent it. In a way, it touched Everett. His parents cared for him and just wanted what was best. In other ways, it angered him even more, knowing just how pathetic he was.

Grumbling under his breath about nonsense, Everett easily walked the hallway that led to the kitchen. He could already hear his family bustling about; his mother was up, making breakfast as she always did.

His father was sipping coffee at the table, most likely reading the morning sports section of the newspaper. And then there was Jesse; loudly slurping his cereal like always. It made Everett cringe. Without his sense of sight, his sense of hearing shot through the roof and he heard things that no one else usually did. And one of the most annoying sounds was listening to his younger brother eat.

It sounded like they had a cow in their kitchen every day. The slurping when he had his morning cereal; the obnoxious chomping of dinner. It was especially bad whenever his mother made pork chops. The noise just never ended.

"Morning, sweetie!" Denise greeted her second eldest child. Everett knew there was a smile on her face as she said the words but, as usual, he was unable to form a smile of his own. He wasn't sure he even remembered how to smile anymore.

His mother let out a sigh that he was sure he wasn't supposed to hear and he heard her feet shuffling away from him. Feeling a little bad, especially since she had such a rough night, Everett follows the sound of her footsteps, holding out one hand as he searched for her. His hand collided with her back and he promptly pulled her into a hug.

"Morning, Mom," he whispered, squeezing her tight before letting go and trying to find his way back to the table. He figured he would just follow the counter around until his shoe rammed against the leg of a chair.

Soon, Everett does indeed hit the leg of a chair and asked, "Which chair is this?"

"Number three," Jesse replied, used to the routine of subtly helping his brother find a seat.

Walking counter clockwise, Everett ticked off the number of the seats, patting his father's shoulder as he passed, and sat down at number six. This was his chair. It had been for years. And as usual, there was a bowl of Everett's favorite cereal sitting there. Sitting down, he dug in, his stomach rumbling loudly as a protest of not having any food.

"Hurry up, Everett," Jesse whined from beside him, the clinking of silverware hitting the tableware sounding through his ears. Everett had to wonder what kind of face his brother made when he whined or complained. From the tone of Jesse's voice, he knew it had to be amusing. "I don't want to be late. Just shove the food in your mouth and swallow."

Thankful for the fact that Jesse had no problem giving him a hard time, Everett, for once, complied with Jesse's wishes, eating as fast as he could before, grabbing his bag and standing.

"You have everything?" Jesse asked from beside him.

Everett only nodded, knowing what his brother was referring to, and produced the cane out from his shoulder bag.

The sliding door on the kitchen opened with a whiz kind of noise and, to make things easier this early in the morning, Everett unfolded the cane and stuck it out in front of him. It wasn't that he didn't know his own backyard; he did. But he was still tired and didn't feel like giving anyone a reason to keep him home today by tripping over a brick or a crack in the pavement. He needed out of that house.

The entire spring break, he had been stuck in there, feeling as if his sanity was slowly being stripped away, the same as every other school related vacation. He was thankful for a day of freedom, even if that freedom took form of school.

Senior year didn't have much left in it and Everett couldn't wait to be rid of the title of Senior - it annoyed him that, though he had a little over a year in age on his brother, they shared the same grade. Everett wanted to be in college already.

But after he lost his vision, he had to stay home for a while so he could adjust to his new way of life. He lost a whole year of school, with Jesse catching up to him.

He just wanted something normal about his life.

Even the one thing that should have been normal, a constant steady in every person's life, seemed to get swallowed up by his impairment.

Everett hated every second of it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After listening to the mesmerizing roar of Jesse's car fade into the distance, Everett began to make his way into his school. Plenty of identifying signs littered the path to the school. If everyone was dropped off at the correct point, which he was, there was no problem finding your way into the school.

Once inside, there existed a plethora of 'helpers', as they were called, to assist in getting one to class. Everett hated that he needed them from time to time; but the fact was, no matter how many times he came to this building, he had a difficult time trying to count the number of steps between classes and he found himself growling in frustration in the middle of hallways on more than one occasion.

"Mr. North, how are you today?"

Everett recognized the voice as Charlie, the only helper that Everett actually trusted.

Everett only shrugged, walking further into the school. He heard squeaks beside him, most likely Charlie subtly guiding him to class. At least he didn't grip Everett's arm like some of the others had the habit of doing. That had resulted in more than one broken nose; even though he couldn't see it, Everett had heard the crunching of bones and the cry of agony pretty well. His hearing, after all, was his best sense.

"You seem to be out of it today, Everett. And considering that it's you I'm talking to, that's really saying something," Charlie said from beside him. "Is there something wrong? Anything at all I can help with?"

Everett was a little unsure of how to approach the subject. It was a little sensitive for him; would Charlie just laugh in his face if he explained how he felt? How many times had Charlie heard the woe is me speech? Is that what this was? Just another oh someone please pity me rant? He didn't want it to be. However, Everett couldn't tell, so he opted for the safer route and told a half truth instead. "I'm just really exhausted. My baby brother is sick and he was crying all night. I couldn't sleep a wink because of it."

Charlie started rambling on about the many ways to block out that sort of noise and to get a better nights rest, but Everett wasn't focusing on that. His mind had somehow wondered off. Everett had come to terms long ago that he would never have a family of his own. He couldn't imagine one single girl who would want to be with him; to actually want him. Not out of pity, but out of love. Why would she? He couldn't provide for her in any way. If they had kids, he wouldn't be able to help. He had no future in the area of romance.

The only thing on his mind were the simple facts: he was destined to be a lonely, useless, helpless loser for the rest of his life.

And for reasons unknown to him, that upset Everett more than he cared to admit.

So, as you can see, Everett is in a bit of a dark place. It will get better as we go along, and I hope you all stick with this long enough to find that better place!

I'd like to point out as well that I don't mean any disrespect towards people with impaired or loss of vision. I tried to do my research on this subject, looking for different ways that people with this disability use to live day to day and different methods people use to get around. It seems there are as many different methods as there are people, so this is sort of my take on it.

So again, this is in NO WAY meant to disrespect anyone. This is just a work of fiction and I've tried to make it accurate and stuff. IDK, I just wanted to throw that out there. :)

Anyways, please leave your comments below and make sure to vote and add to your reading lists and whatever else you feel the need to do!

Thanks guys!