I don’t belong in my world, and I don’t think I ever will.
In the second grade, all my classmates were prescribed their first pair of glasses. They lined us up against the wall and had us cover an eye while reading from the chart.
“Carissa Summers, start from the top,”
Sure enough, Carissa started reading. Around the third line of letters, it became clear she would not be able to read without a prescription.
E
F P
T O Z
“Nice work young lady. It looks like you will need a silver set. Go and see Ms. Lassen in the care office. She will get you situated. Next up, Maya Yuka.”
Another silver.
Then eleven whites, not a single black set.
Colors corresponded to the severity of a child’s eyesight. Most students fell into the white category. It was uncommon to have silver, and nearly impossible to have black. These upper-level prescriptions were usually given to the students who were classified as legally blind or shadowsighted individuals.
It was unheard of for a child to have no prescription at all.
“Ben Kavinas”
White.
“Rachel Melas”
Black.
The entirety of my classmates cheered as her prescription was signed. The community had not had a shadowsighted student in nearly a decade. They were considered special members of society, the only people who could see the truth of the world by being surrounded in darkness.
I kept listening, anticipating my name to be called. Mom had told me there was nothing to worry about. Both she and dad had silver prescriptions. They were banking on me getting the same.
“Priya Acharya.”
There it was, my name hanging out of the prescriber’s mouth.
“Please step up to the front and cover your left eye. Begin reading when you’re ready.”
I covered my left eye with my small, clammy hand. I had been nervous all morning about this test. A prescription branding me for the rest of my life. Would I be silver like my parents? A regular white? A legendary black?
E
F P
T O Z
L P E D
P E C F D
E D F C Z P
F E L O P Z D
D E F P O T E C
The prescriber looked at the chart and back at me as I read each of the letters to him. He wore a set of silver glasses, which lifted when he crinkled his nose. “Try again, with your right this time,” he told me.
I read them perfectly.
They stopped prescriptions for the day, and the remaining kids were told to come back in the morning for their pairs. My parents were immediately called into the school.
“What do you mean she’s clearsighted?” My father demanded of the faculty. I read the name tag of the prescriber, Dr. Ogden. He shook as he read my father the results of my exam.
“The results show Priya is…different from the rest of us. She can read all the letters with perfect accuracy. Very few people can do this, in fact, only a handful of other students in the area has been given the same diagnosis…”
“I refuse to have a clearsighted daughter, it’s an embarrassment. We didn’t raise her to be this way. It is a sin to be able to see things clearly. How can we fix it?” My mother scowled down at me. I was sitting in a chair next to Dr. Ogden and my principal.
“There is no known cure, miss. We’ve been trying to convince parents to allow us to take their children for further testing if they come back with abnormal results from their first exam.”
With a wave of my mother’s hand and the apathetic expression my father had given, my guardianship was handed over to this man, a researcher. Dr. Ogden took me away from school that day and brought me to the Ogden-Rose Optometrical Research Laboratory, otherwise known as the OR2. Grabbing me by my backpack handle, Mr. Ogden lifted his glasses, and a scanner took a copy of his pale, blue irises. The machine glows in my memory. It took a few moments to analyze the data it had been given before a pre-recorded voice chirped through the speaker.
Welcome Vasar Ogden, access granted.
When we reached the inside of the OR2, I realized we were not alone. Three other kids were in the room, all ranging in age. A quick glance told me I was probably the youngest.
“Priya Acharya, meet Lucas Sentinel, Wade Phifer, and Luna Yuka.”
The boys looked away from me, and my attention immediately shifted to the small, skinny girl with short black hair. Her eyes were greyish in color. She was maybe nine or ten, and almost identical to someone I knew.
“Are you Maya’s sister?” I asked, stepping closer. The girl shuffled away from me, and the taller boy with shaggy blond hair blocked her from my view.
“What would it matter if I was? It’s not like I matter to my family, they sent me here.” Luna turned away from Dr. Ogden and me. She walked through a set of double doors at the other end of the room, and the boy who had stepped in front of her scrunched his eyes towards us.
“Did her parents really hand her over to you, or did you just take what you wanted like you normally do?” This kid had a look of pure disgust in his eyes, directed solely at the doctor.
I still flinched.
“Now, Lucas… I can’t expect you to understand the work we are doing here. It truly is the best for this community, the world even. The four of you are vital to understanding this anomaly being experienced by certain young people.”
“Oh, is that what you’re telling everyone about this place? This ‘research’ that you’re conducting? Well, what about us…what about the other kids that have been sent here before?”
“Necessary sacrifices have to be made in the name of progression…”
Lucas cut him off with a cold, detached laugh. “Is that why you took Wade’s eyes?”
I turned towards the smaller boy who had dark hair and sick, ghost-like skin. Sure enough, empty sockets stared back at me.
Dr. Ogden pursed his lips and shuffled towards the exit. “Why don’t you spend some time getting acquainted with our new resident? I’ll be back to drop off dinner at six.” He left the room through the way that we came in. Luna still had not emerged from the doors on the opposite side. Wade stumbled towards the direction she had gone, and I couldn’t tell if it was from his lack of vision or his bodily state.
“They were green,” Lucas said, turning towards me. I noticed I was still frozen, watching Wade leave.
“What?” I asked, swerving my body in his direction. I noticed for the first time that Lucas had warm eyes, they reminded me of Carissa Summer’s, a soft honey-amber. He looked kinder then, different from the kid who had been so cold to the doctor only moments before.
“Wade’s eyes, they were green.”