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(Prologue)
When I was 16, my dad and I were working on fixing our personal generator. When we started it up, something had gone wrong and it sparked a gas explosion. My dad had only enough time to attempt to protect me from the blast, but he was far too late. The explosion hurled shrapnel the size of kitchen knives in all directions. My dad died from the initial impact of the explosion, but the shrapnel found its way to the upper half of my body. The initial shock rendered me unfeeling to the cutting of flesh. I never even noticed that I had been hit until I instantly lost vision in my left eye. I didn’t even think about it, as I was too occupied in trying to wake my dad up. He had slumped over and was obviously not breathing. Unfortunately for me, as shock really began to set in, I passed out.
I woke up about 2 days later in a bright white hospital room. I was groggy and couldn't have stayed awake even if I had wanted to. I thought of my dad. I had known when I saw his body slumped next to the blast zone, that he had not survived. I felt a single tear roll down my cheek as I sunk back into sleep. When I awoke again 2 days later, the room was different then the first time. It looked more like a recovery room then a basic hospital room. I was confused and tired. I wanted answers and sleep, not particularly in that order. The doctor opened the door and walked in. Before I even had time to start asking my questions, he put his hand up to signal me to halt. He began to explain what happened. The explosion had severely wounded my eye, so much in fact that they had to remove it. The surgery had taken place while I was still knocked out. During his explanation, I suddenly noticed the large bandage covering my left eye, and the startling feeling of...having no left eye. He began talking to me about getting something like a glass eye to fill the hole. I told him I didn’t want anything to fill it. I had plans for it. The doctor walked away mumbling something about kids getting weirder and weirder every day.
The recovery from my surgery took less time than I thought. I was released from the hospital 3 days after they had removed my eye. Since I refused the glass eye, the process took much less time, and I got a badass looking black eye-patch. I was forced to wear the bandage for a week after I was released, to let my eye socket fully heal. When I finally got home after being released, The first thing I noticed was my mom rushing to hug me with the force of a grizzly bear. She was crying, and I wasn't sure if it was for me, my dad, or for both. Apparently she had been busy while I was in the hospital. She told me that she had been looking for a new school for me to attend. I was confused at first, and then remembered that technically I did have a disability. Only having one eye caused me to have no depth perception. Technically I was half blind. I didn’t think it was going to be a huge deal, but apparently I had to change schools. My mom told me about a school called Yamaku. A school specially designed for disabled children. I didn’t mind the word disabled as much as other people seemed to. I wasn't exactly the most popular kid at my school, and the idea of a clean slate was intriguing. I told her it was ok with me and she left to go begin making phone calls and filling out paperwork. I was still tired as hell from my last 2 weeks, I went to bed, and slept for a day and a half.
I don't regret anything that happened that day. Why would I? I can't change it, so I won't dwell on it. I would just have to see how things would work out for me.