Close Your Eyes

Make yourself familiar with the angels, and behold them frequently in spirit; for without being seen, they are present with you.

-St. Francis de Sales

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Prologue

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🔸Aila's Point of View🔹

There are moments in time where the world seems to come to a sudden halt. Everything freezes: the basketball stops half-way to the rim during the big game, the runner stops mid-stride when his toe crosses the finish line first, the girl's melodious laugh is frozen in place as the boy beside her realizes he loves her.

But those pauses in life do not just happen at the good moments in life, where you get to revel in your happiness. No. Sadly, the bad moments pause for us as well, leaving us wondering how we ended up in such a situation and knowing fully well that we can't do a thing to change the course of events that are about to take place. Everything is as unmovable as the scene in a painting, like the moment you realize that car that just ran the red light is headed straight toward you, or that school bully's fist is pulled back and aimed for your face because you refused to give up your lunch seat.

Suddenly, you are deaf to all the noises except your heart. It pounds in your chest, in your ears, echoing for miles it seems. A steady pound like a drum.

And then it's like life is simply turned back on with a switch. The basketball soars straight through the hoop, the boy pulls the girl in for a kiss, you get slammed by the car who ran the red light.

These still moments last only for a few seconds at most, but for some, it feels like an eternity.

Especially for me.

I've had more than my fair share of these moments.

Starting on my eighth birthday.

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My eyes fluttered open from a dreamless sleep. As always, all I saw were shapes. But something was off about them. I saw yellow, blue, and two red circles, and my wall seemed to be two different shades of tan paint. I reached over to the nightstand on my left, searching for my glasses.

As I slid them on, I jumped when I heard "Happy Birthday" being sung at the foot of my bed. I grinned and looked in front of me, now able to see what the shapes had been.

My seven-year-old sister, Jewel, stood directly in front of my bed, her light brown hair braided down her back. She gave me a toothy grin as she sang to me for my birthday, her hazel eyes locked on mine. We looked almost identical, with our father's eyes and our mother's hair and dimples. We were often mistaken as twins, though my eyes were a bit brighter than hers since a shade of yellow was mixed into the hazel.

Jewel held four balloons in her hand - that explained the circles I saw when I first opened my eyes - and all I could see of my parents behind the balloons were their heads. They both smiled lovingly at me.

When they were done singing, I hoped out from under the covers and hurried to give them all large hugs.

As my dad tied the balloons to my bed posts - two on each side - my mom pulled out a gift wrapped in green from behind her back. "Here you go, honey," she said softly, smoothing my hair and kissing my forehead.

I tore into it eagerly, throwing the trash to the side. I squealed in delight when I saw the picture on the box. "You bought me a camera?" I asked, ecstatic.

Dad chuckled at my excitement. "Yep, kiddo."

"We know you're getting interested in drawing, and we thought it would be easier if you took a picture of something you want to draw, so you can draw it anywhere, even here in your room. It would be good practice good for you," Mom added.