I, Emma Mayweather, was the victim of bullying. Some of the students at my school thought it would be funny to charge the other students to see a particularly embarrassing video of me in the locker room, and as a result of the trauma I endured, I lost my eyesight and now I have to get use to living life without the benefit of my eyes. I spend most of my days in the shadows, because that's where I feel the safest and don't feel like an outside in the school that I've attending for the past fifteen years, but when I overhear someone say something that could be potentially dangerous to another student, I have to decide whether to come out into the light and reveal the truth or sit on my hands and keep my mouth shut.
It’s called a shadow, I wrote in my notebook as I sat behind the old water heater; the ancient contraption overcasting me with its dark shadow and hiding me from the world that lay beyond the four walls that surrounded me. In fairy tales, it’s where the light is extinguished and the evil beings take up residence. But, for me, it’s my salvation. The shadows are where I spend my life, feeding off of the seclusion from the world and the bullies that torment my days. When I step into the black haze, a warmth envelopes me like a velvet blanket on a cold winter night. I feel safe in the shadows, with only the dust bunnies and a few occasional spiders as company. Spiders might be scary and ugly, but spiders don’t bully me because my hair is particularly frizzy that day or because I choose not to dress like the popular kids.