I wasn't born blind. When I was younger, my mother used to tell me how wonderful my eyes were. She said my eyes were from her; big brown eyes with thick and curly lashes. They were round, unlike my sister's. Her eyes were almond-shaped and black. A typical kind of eye, that's why when I was born, everyone adored me. Some called me Little Miss Brown Eyes. Some would even say that I have the most beautiful eyes in the world. I liked being called like that. It makes me feel special and unique. Compliments for my eyes were a treasure to me because I had grown up in a poor family. It was all the beauty I have.
My father worked in the fields every day. He was a hardworking man who would do anything just to bring home some food for our hungry mouths. My sister and I was just twelve then, but we already knew the hardships of our lowly life. Because of that, fate pushed us to become more independent and strong. We twins would walk our village selling cheap handkerchiefs and towels that my mother made. It was her job. She would sew clothes, handkerchiefs, towels; basically anything you could imagine using a piece of cloth. I was always fascinated with her. Her hands were so delicate that she could even sew very little clothes for our dolls.
Life for us was simple. We all worked so we can buy food and other things. We are poor but aside from that, life was blissful for us. After a hard day's work, my father would come home carrying some flowers that he picked along the road. We would be waiting for him. My mother then would cook some rice and make a fish stew. As she sings, my sister and I would clean all the pieces of cloth that were scattered on the floor. Sometimes, we would join our mother singing and when father hears us, he'll flash his brightest smile and hug us, giving my mother a big kiss on the lips. Life was just like that. Simple yet we are all happy. But everything changed after the accident that took my precious sight away.
It was a cold December evening. My sister Cassandra and I were alone on our house. Our parents went to town to visit some of our old relatives. At first, it was fine. We played with our dolls and ate grilled corn that mother had prepared for us earlier. Until we both got bored. My sister found her thing after a few minutes. She slept, leaving me alone to bore myself to death. But that was until I poked around my mother's stuff. It's a big chest that contained all of her things needed on her work. There were needles, pieces of cloth, pins and small dresses for dolls. I gently ran my hands along the rolls of cloth that was there until I came up with an idea. I'm going to sew some dresses for my doll. I picked a slightly stiff cloth that has little embroideries of hearts and flowers. I picked a needle, run a red thread through it and started to work on the cloth. I punctured it with the needle but because it was stiff, I found it hard. I pushed the needle through it, with my eyes fixed on it until I pushed harder than I should. The needle slipped from my hand and it went straight to my left eye. I managed to pull it away but I screamed in pain as I felt the warm liquid, blood, oozing from my eye. My sister woke up and saw me hysterical, with blood smeared all over my face. It hurts so bad I screamed and screamed until my sister found some neighbors to take me to a nearby hospital. I've undergone a lot of test, but since we were poor, we couldn't buy all of the medicines needed, which after caused an infection even to my right eye. Surgery is even more expensive and then, that's when I came to accept the bitter fact that I will be blind forever.
At the age of twelve, my world had turned completely upside down. My parents cried and cried until there was no more tears to shed. My sister kept blaming herself but I know better; it wasn't her fault. It was all mine. I am now a blind girl because of my carelessness, and no matter how hard I try to convince myself that everything will be better, reality will slap me hard on the face. No more Little Miss Brown Eyes.
Years passed, things changed and our life was better but I felt myself drift away from my family. Cassandra was the best sister one could have. She never left me. She patiently guided me through everything but I grew envious of her. Our parents worked harder after my incident in order to give us a better life but I know that my life won't change. They pushed harder, knowing full well that they need to work their bodies off just to make sure all our needs are attended to. And then, there was Cassandra. My beautiful and smart twin sister. Cassandra, the daughter who had the strength and will to finish her studies and become a successful nurse. My parents were overjoyed during her graduation and they were close to hysterical crying when she passed her licensure exam. And then, me. Everyone forgot about me. The horrible tragedy, the loss of my precious sight, my life. Everything about me faded as my sister's future became brighter than ever.
