Feeling the warmth of the sun drenching her skin, her mood immediately felt lightened. It wasn't often she left the dank apartment she called home. Since the move, she'd found it hard to find her way about, and was too stubborn to admit otherwise.<br/><br/>All it took was a phone call.<br/><br/>She now found herself amidst the flurry of pedestrians sight-seeing, a pastime she'd have loved to take part in. From what she'd heard, Paris was beautiful. The Eiffel tower, a sight to see. The MusÃ©e du Louvre filled with artists from centuries past. Even the simple wonder of the architecture so heavily prevalent in the midst of the constant reinvention that was Paris, she'd have killed to see it.<br/><br/>Alone on this desolate bench, unseeing gaze staring up at Arc de Triomphe, she ached to see what others took for granted. No matter how high her mood was lifted by the warmth washing over her alabaster skin, nothing could fully take that void and fill it. Had she never gotten a taste of what she'd been missing all her life, she'd have been content to live in the dark.<br/><br/>Doctors had been called, to see if what she had could be reversed, if she could have had her sight, even to a small degree. All they'd told her was, short of an expensive transplant, she'd never have sight, and that she needed to move on from that.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Easier said than done...</span>Jaycie always retorted angrily.<br/><br/>People called her crazy, hearing her claim she'd seen that fateful sunrise. Teachers continually sent her to the guidance councilor. The councilor recommended, again and again, to see a therapist, to try and "work through the suppressed issues she harbored." She couldn't have been crazy. How would she suddenly know that which she'd never known? Never seen?<br/><br/>She'd never have known the vibrant oranges, brilliant yellows. No color had ever had a name, nor a shade to recollect. Some people had tried to explain the colors to her, tried to help ease her growing annoyance prior to her vision.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #40FF00">Green they always explained as the color of grass. <br/>"...I've never seen grass..." she'd answer.<br/>"Have you seen a cactus?"<br/>"...If I've never seen grass...and we live in Michigan...what're the chances I've seen a cactus?"<br/>Awkward silence would ensue.</span></span></div><br/><br/>That's how it generally went, someone getting flustered because they could never figure out how to explain a color to one who never saw them. In her mind, everything had a feel, had a texture. The only way she knew what she was putting on, color wise, was because she had someone write it out in braille on her tags. That didn't mean she knew what they actually looked like, but she would keep within color rules her old foster family had set.<br/><br/>As the time continued to crawl by, the sun lost its warmth. The sound of people slowly died away, their steps no longer assaulting her ears.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Something's changed...</span><br/><br/>No longer did she smell the croissants wafting on the breeze, wrapping her in a cocoon of delicious imaginings. The air was suddenly...pure. No trace of exhaust or trash marred its perfection. The air was decidedly cooler, the sun's rays not affording the same glow it'd previously held. The wind had picked up, her hair falling loose of its loose up-do, brushing across her face.<br/><br/>The surface she was perched upon was also different. The smooth lines of the finished wood were lost, and in its place remained the jagged edge of rocks. Slipping free of the boulder, her feet touched nervously down on the ground, one hand remaining on the rock to steady herself. Her other shielding her eyes as she tried to acclimate to the sudden change. Her dress, white and bright (as she'd been told it was the easiest color to spot), whipped around her knees, dancing in the breeze as her hair slipped free completely, dropping down past her shoulders, skimming over her skin evoking goosebumps.<br/><br/>Bits and pieces of words, disjointed, drifted to her on the breeze. Her heart moved to her throat, realizing she'd no idea where she was. Not a single hint. Her heart rate quickened as her breathing grew shallow.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">We go north...</span><br/><br/>"We? Who's we?" she asked herself allowed, trying to get her bearings. "And which way is north??"<br/><br/>Stepping away from the shelter of her single known boulder, she lifted her arms above her head, trying to flag someone down. "...Help?!" Jaycie yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping someone heard her.<br/><br/>Her pride could take a backseat on this one.<br/><br/>Just this once.