"Nessa, what exactly do you think you're doing?"
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"Mom, it's not that big of a deal."
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My mom isn't the most trusting. Even though I have never given her a reason not to trust me. She doesn't like me always going out with my friends because it gives her anxiety. You see, just in the past year she finally let me go to a real school. I was homeschooled all the way through middle school because of my "condition", as she likes to call it. So I started my high school career at the public school five minutes from my house, and I have made a lot of friends. They all love helping me around school, and I was even able to get the exact same schedule as my best friend, Destiny, so she could walk with me and guide me to all of my classes. All of my teachers are so nice and very patient with me and understanding. Overall, I have had a great year so far, and I don't know why my mom was ever so nervous about sending me to a real school.
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"Nessa, I just don't understand why you spend so much time with your friends. I feel like I never get to see you anymore."
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"What do you mean, we are always together," I say, failing to convince even myself.
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It was true. I had been going out a lot since the beginning of the school year, but I have a ton of lost time to make up for. Before starting at Charlottesville High, I didn't really have any friends besides Destiny. In fact, the only reason we became friends was because we were, and still are, neighbors. We've known each other since we were little.
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"I just miss you, Ness," mom replies.
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I could hear the pain in her voice as it rang out and knew that there were tears in her eyes. Blind people tend to have certain instincts about these things because we normally have to make guesses to form images of our environments in our minds. I sometimes make a game of it by asking questions, and usually my instinct is correct. I called the game "Sixth Sense" and mostly played it when I was younger, and I'm extremely good at it now. It actually creeps my family out sometimes, and my dad actually believes I have a sixth sense because of it.
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"Is that a tear I sense?" I ask trying to lighten the mood.
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"You never cease to amaze me," she answers, her voice quivering.
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"Momma, I know it's hard for you. We used to spend every minute of the day together, and it's probably just really strange for you to wrap your head around. But I will always be your little girl, and I promise that I want to and will still spend time with you every chance I get."
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"I love you so much, come here." My mom wraps her arms around me and just holds me.
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"I love you too."
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She gently releases me, and I feel her hand stroke my long, dark hair. "Promise you'll be back before 9?"
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"Promise," I say as I walk out the door.
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