Mushrooms (SCP Foundation)

The brown ragged clothing reached all the way to my knees as I sat on a stone wall and stared hard into the distance. The wind hits my back with a solid breeze as it takes small twigs and leaves with it, making my brownish-blondish hair fly forward. The mood would have been better if I could see the sun setting. People from the orphanage have said many things about the sunset. They said that the sky would turn a series of oranges while clouds turned light pink, and you could see the sun slowly going down like it was sinking into the water. I always imagined myself there one day. My toes would be covered in sand while the sun sank into the water. Of course, that was just a dream. There are many things you can fix in this world, but eyesight ain’t one of them. Just like you can fix a microphone, but you can’t fix a voice. Even then, it wouldn’t change me. I wouldn’t be normal.

Normal.

Such basicness, yet it’s what everyone wants from a person. It’s what is required for acceptance. Normal, is something I can never be. I know they’re judging when they look. They don’t see a young sophisticated woman. No. They see a blind weirdo that still doesn’t have parents to love them. They think I can’t see it- and I can’t, but I can feel it. I don’t even have a normal name. Seriously- who names their child something so weird?! I try to tell myself that it’s supposed to be unique, though it doesn’t always work.

Although I may be blind, I have a strong sense of hearing and touch. So I can basically see, but with my fingers. I can feel things around me that aren’t even with contact. It's the same thing with vibrations.

The stone wall- or fence (it was really confusing, what was it?)- I sat on, belonged to a small little neighborhood near the orphanage. That's what I loved about where our orphanage was located. It reminded me of the town Grapevine in Texas. What an annoyance it was that it still lived inside the great big city.

A hard, cold breeze suddenly hit me in the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. It probably meant it was starting to get dark, considering that it was starting to get much colder. That cold air can really start to get you once it hits November. I used my hands to push myself off the stone structure and started walking through the loud city, trying to get back to the orphanage. Just from the vibrations, I could feel people's eyes stare at me as I walked down the sidewalks. I already knew they were judging me and my choice of clothing. Although, the clothing wasn’t really my fault. These were the clothes the orphanage gave us. I wore a big, brown, leather trench coat with a black belt at my waist. The sleeves were loose on my arms, as the trench coat looked like a dress overall on me, the bottom going to my knees. I wore black leggings underneath and brown puffy boots that kept my feet warm. A blue, ragged scarf was neatly tied around my neck, my light brown hair neatly tied back into a high ponytail. I looked like a homeless kid you would find in the dump. That’s what I knew everyone was thinking, that's what I knew they saw. Just a poor girl making her way through the sidewalk, desperately in search of a place she could call home. But I don't care what these people think. What normal people think.

While I was walking, I had accidently bumped into a woman, who was carrying at least three bags of expensive (I’m sure they were expensive- the lady was wearing a beautiful pearl necklace and earrings that I’m positive were made of diamond. It was hard to tell, considering the disability to see) food. She tumbled over on the sidewalk like a log. My expression goes from natural to worried. She looks up at me, anger visible on her face.

“You! Can’t you watch where you’re going!?’ She yelled at me. I put my hands up in defense. It was an honest mistake. I was going to apologize, but Deja vu filled my eyes and saw that the lady had brown eyes and dirty blonde hair with dark brown hair extensions and curled in the most dramatic way possible, which I’m sure was also expensive.

“Madam, I am terribly sorry! I didn’t know you were there, it was an accident!” I apologized frantically. She rolled her eyes before she took a quick glance at my pure, white eyes.

“Whatever, guess you’re supposed to expect this, especially from a blind girl,” she’d say with a scoff while reaching for all the food she had dropped around her, giving me a cold glare. Though I didn’t even flinch. A few people nearby stopped to look at the scene (bystanders, honestly), some laughing silently to themselves. The lady continued to stare at me with a cold expression. I stayed silent the entire time.

It was currently 8:14 PM. All the children chatted in the orphanage, while I sat in the corner with a paper and pencil (why? There are some questions you ask yourself, yet you don’t know how to answer them). The floors and walls of the orphanage were rickety, as dust and rubble would fall on your face when you were sleeping. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t be here. Someone would have adopted me when I was younger, but nobody had yet. I spent fifteen years in this orphanage, and nobody had once found interest in me. I don’t think anyone is going to adopt me anytime soon. After all, who would adopt a sixteen-year-old? I grabbed the pencil and started doodling on the piece of paper. The pencil drew with grace, making drawings come to life. Flowers, trees, rivers, lakes, sunsets. Anything that peaked my interest.

Suddenly, the room went quiet as footsteps were heard behind me. I turned around and could feel an adult presence in the room. Black hair tied back into a bun with a ribbon. They wore a black church-like gown with white lace and black heels. Mother Lisa. She’s not actually our mother, she just owns the orphanage (she, as well, seems very expensive. Couldn’t she make this place a little better?). So, we have to address her as “Mother Lisa.” All the children went silent as Mother Lisa’s black heels clicked against the wooden floor. She appeared to be holding something in her hands, something rectangular. She made her way to the very front of the main room and turned to face all the children.

“Children, the counselors and I have spoken, and we agreed that you should get a treat,” Mother Lisa announced. Excited chatter started spreading throughout the room like in infectious disease. Children talking to each other like it was the best day of their lives. All of them. Except me. Mother Lisa was holding a movie tape in her hands. Tsch. What an annoyance. I could feel the illumination of light suddenly turn off, a click noise going along with it. The insert of the movie tape could be heard. A bright, new illumination suddenly casted into the room, Beauty And The Beast.

I tried my best to visualize Bell in my head. I saw her as an Irish lady with short blonde hair with brown highlights. She loved reading, so I imagined green eyes and reading glasses. A yellow maiden dress with white little rose patterns laced around the torso. She wore white berken-stock-socks with black Mary Janes. A brown, squarish leather bag hanging on the side of her shoulder filled with large, classic books. Little Women, Anne of The Green Gables, Daddy Long Legs. Gaston, however, would have a long face with brown eyes. I could see him with brown hair in a high-top. He wore a beaten yellow short with a torn black jacket. Short spandex pants and leather ankle boots. He’d be extremely muscular, too muscly. Muscly people looked like they tried too hard. His voice sounded annoying, his personality was cocky. I imagined him with a stupid look on his face. Kind of like a mix between a jaguar and a sneer. I laughed in my head, but cringed at the face I had created for the character.

When the movie came to an end, it was about 9:27 PM. Mother Lisa flipped a switch that was plugged in the wall, making light illuminate throughout the whole room. A few kids covered their eyes from the sudden brightness. She’d take the movie tape out of the machine and stand at the front of the room again, clapping her hands together three times to get everyone's attention. Children quieted down as they stared at Mother Lisa intently.

“Before we start getting ready for a good night's sleep, I need a volunteer to hang some children adoption signs outside,” Mother Lisa informed. It’s her orphanage, can’t she do it herself? Everyone was quiet, only one person raised their hand. It was a twelve-year-old girl with long, black hair that was always hung in a sloppy double bun. She’d have brown eyes and tannish skin tone with rosy cheeks. Mother Lisa did a playful eye roll.

“Ana, you just did it last week. Let someone else have a turn,” Mother Lisa said with a chuckle. Her eyes roamed across the room, looking at every child. “How about…” Her eyes land on me. “Echo.” Everyone turned and looked at me. Some filled with pity, some people smirked. At least- I think they were smirks. There weren’t a lot of vibrations in the room for me to hear, the room was very still. As for touch- the dust in the air messed me up slightly.

I sighed and slowly got up from my comfortable position, walking towards Mother Lisa who was holding a stack of posters for me to grab. When I stood in front of her, she pushed her hands forward in my arms, eagerly waiting for me to take the stack of papers. Desperate? I gently pulled the posters away from her arms and turned around to leave the building. As I was exiting the building I could hear two male children beside the door whispering to each other.

“Wanna bet she gets hit by a car?” One whispered. The other one giggles quietly to himself as the vibrations around the room give off him nodding up and down. I narrowed my eyes and walked faster. I pressed my lips together to not say anything, cause if I said something, they would think I was trying to be defensive. I am- but I don’t really care. I care about respect, and it wasn’t very respectful. Before I could walk through the door, Mother Lisa spoke again.

“Echo, it is protocol for you to go with a counselor,” Mother Lisa instructed. I sighed in annoyance. Of course. One of the counselors then shuffled down the short flight of stairs and stood next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. I scrunched my face slightly and pushed their hand off me and walked out the door.

I walked through the busy streets. Though it was still dark, many people still walked. Cars honked at each other, people cussed and flipped each other off. They laughed, they cried. They coughed, they lied. Normal people things. Key word, normal. Then I started wondering, what even is normal?

I say people act normal. I say people talk to each other, normal. But really, I shouldn’t be saying anything. I couldn’t say anything. I say the word normal like it’s an accusation, when really, I never felt normal. I never experienced normal. What did that word mean? Maybe I just said those things so I would feel better about myself, because deep down inside, I know there would always be something that separated me from everyone else.

I pushed those thoughts into the back of my mind and shrugged it off before putting three posters up on a wall. One on a lamppost, one on a stone wall that adult-teens like hanging out, and one on a store window. Those three posters were the only ones I put up before I decided to shove the rest down a trash can near a bar, away from the counselor. Two police cars were parked up near the area, making sure no alcoholic would walk out and start driving. Or start a fight. Or do some not appropriate things. I honestly didn’t really know what they were there for, but it made the most sense. I ignored them and walked back to the orphanage. The counselor beside me kept trying to offer their assistance, like I was helpless.

“Do you need to hold my hand while you cross the street?” They offered. I shook my head no and crossed the street. They seemed nervous and kept fake laughing every time I turned them down. You could tell the laughs were forced. Honestly, it sounded like a mix between a yelp and a squeal. Kind of funny if you thought about it. Come on, I won’t die.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm diagnosed with depression. Though, that could just be my Orphan Syndrome speaking. Is that even a thing? It didn’t matter anyway. I was used to this feeling. To the empty space of nobody being around me, the loneliness. To the looks.

It was currently 7:43 PM. I walked through the city, it was louder than yesterday. My ears hurt. The sound of blasting, honking horns felt like the only thing present. Hands over my ears. Jesus Christ…

It was practically dark, yet it still felt like day was going. An Asian boy named Dan was also walking with me from the orphanage. He was about ten-years-old. Usually the counselors make me watch/take care of younger kids since I’m one of the older few. I always thought it was annoying. Dan would assist me because I’m blind, but he was a respectable kid. An easy guy to talk with.

“Was there something that made you blind, or were you just born with it?” Dan asked, his voice filled with curiosity. I removed my hands from my ears and turned to him slightly.

“I was born with it,” I replied. The streets slowly started getting quieter as we approached the orphanage area. Eventually, it felt like just the two of us walking. A few people here and there, but nobody else entirely.

We continued to walk, when suddenly a chill went down my spine. My legs felt weighed down. My heartbeat increased.

Something’s wrong.

I turned around and listened cautiously to our surroundings. Nothing unusual seemed to be in place, everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. Still, a dark energy filled the air like toxic gas. It seemed like I was the only one who could feel its presence.

I tried ignoring it. When I did, it was as if the energy seemed to become stronger by the passing second. Again, I turned around to the surroundings.

Are we being watched? It was hard to tell. Everything was still. But it felt all wrong. Everything was just… wrong.

The presence suddenly felt very unsafe. It felt murderous, it screamed of violence. I could hear my blood rushing through my body, which was distracting, considering how it felt like a need to listen intensely to the environment. I turned around and faced Dan, who seemed to be confused.

“You need to get out of here, now,” I ordered. Dan backed a little at the sudden tone, his face going from confused to worried. “Dan, go back to the orphanage. Now,” I instructed once again. Dan was silent before he nodded and ran back to the orphanage.

I turned around and listened to the area cautiously once again. The sound of my heart beating and blood rushing kept coming through my ear, but I continued to block them out. I kept turning around, but I still couldn’t feel anything.

Eventually, I could feel the presence of a large man holding an obsidian sword about three yards in front of me. I backed up slightly, startled from the sudden appearance. He looked up and saw me, giving a slight smirk. My fingertips felt stiff and frozen, as did my legs. I desperately wanted to scream, but what would happen if I did? I tried remaining calm. I tried reading his aura. It was definitely something not of this world, yet that somehow didn’t scare me. Why? Maybe it was because I felt out of this world myself. Like I have been… misplaced. My thoughts were interrupted when the weird man suddenly spoke.

“Ah, fresh meat,” he says before charging at me. He swiftly jumped off the side of a stone wall and bounced almost right on top of me. Quickly, I ducked to avoid his attack. He’s fast! He swiftly landed on the ground and jumped right up again and tried the same attack but from behind me. Before his sword could cut through me, I grabbed the obsidian texture and pulled him down over my shoulder with a thud, taking the sword from his hands. He laid on the concrete ground for a minute, cracks around him before he slowly got up. He chuckled slightly while looking at the ground, blood dripping from his nose. Finally, he looked up and made eye contact with me.

“Hehe… you’re a funny little thing, aren’t ya?” He asked with a grin, before recreating an obsidian sword out of thin air. With swiftness, he jumped up so high that I couldn’t tell where he was. Suddenly I felt a presence coming from above me. Quickly, I ducked and rolled out of the way, though it was kind of hard to do with an obsidian sword in my hands. He quickly launched his body at me and swung his sword. I used the sword I had in my hands to block the attack, the metal screeching against each other. I kicked him hard in the stomach, making him fall to the ground. Before he could get up, I used the sword to stab him through his chest. Blood spilled a little from his chest before he gave a sly grin at me, before he started to slowly turn into dust and fade away. Along with the obsidian sword that was no longer in my hands. I looked down at my hands, which felt stained of something. As I felt his presence fade away, I felt about five new people’s presence behind me, all of them holding guns.

All of them were men. They wore a corresponding black military uniform. Thigh bags on their sides and pockets for either swords or guns on their backs. They wore clothed helmets with black shades over their eyes. On their shoulders was a logo that had a circular shape with three arrows pointing to the middle. One of the men moved their shades off their eyes and made eye contact with me.

“Excuse us ma’am, what’s your name?” The man asked. I stayed silent for a moment. I had a lot of reasons to not respond. First of all, they were strangers, stranger danger. But their presence didn’t feel dangerous.

“Echo.” I replied. “Echo Cyrus.” The men had a collective silence for a moment before one of them grabbed shackles. I backed away from them slightly. Now what were they planning to use those for?!

“Miss Echo, we’re going to have to make you come with us.” I was quiet for a moment before making my way over to them. The guy with the shackles wrapped them around my hands. One of the other men grabbed me by my arm as they all started leading me through the alleyway through the city. Eventually, we arrived somewhere outside the city and got inside a car. I didn’t know if I was being kidnapped or whatnot, yet I cooperated with them. I stared out the window, feeling myself getting farther away from the city.

“Goodbye city,” I mumbled softly to myself. I didn’t really know why I said it. Though, I don’t ever really know the answer when I ask myself the question, why?

One of the men turned to me when I said that, then he looked out the window with me.

“I didn’t really mean it when I said it, I didn’t understand what would happen. I didn’t know what I would learn, I didn’t know I wouldn't return,” the man said softly. That confused me, but I put it aside. Suddenly, Deja vu filled my eyes, and I saw the city. The sun was setting just behind it, the sky was pink and orange. It was only a small glimpse, but as soon as I blinked, everything went back to the nothingness I had looked at my whole life.

Mid-way through the car ride, I fell asleep.

I woke up in a laboratory of some kind. Bright white lights shone over my eyes, making me squint slightly. The shackles were still on my hands. As I felt myself sitting in a chair. A desk was placed in front of me, as a man on the other side sat across from me. The chair swung around as they turned to face me, a smile slowly appearing.

“Ah, I see you’re awake.” The man spoke. He smiled again. “Hello Echo.”