Embers of Betrayal

Chapter 5: flicker of hope

Bernadette now spent most of her days confined to her room, where the walls seemed to close in on her more with each passing moment. The once vibrant and colorful space, filled with her favorite art pieces and cherished memories, now felt cold and distant—just a hollow shell of the life she once knew.

Every so often, Carmen, her caretaker, would gently guide her outside for some sunlight. Carmen always tried to keep the mood light and encouraging, her voice filled with warmth and patience.

"Maam Badette," Carmen said one morning, "how about we take a little walk outside today? The sun is shining, and the fresh air will do you good."

Bernadette hesitated. She knew Carmen was right, but the idea of going outside, of facing a world she could no longer see, filled her with dread. Yet she nodded, not wanting to disappoint Carmen. "Okay," she agreed softly. "A little fresh air might help."

Carmen took Bernadette's arm and guided her out of the room, carefully leading her through the hallways and out onto the terrace. The sun was warm on her skin, a gentle breeze caressed her face, and she could hear the birds chirping in the distance. It should have been comforting, a reminder of the world outside her darkness, but instead, it felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

She closed her eyes, though it made no difference anymore. There was only darkness—deep, impenetrable darkness. It was as if the sun didn't shine for her anymore, as if the world itself had vanished, leaving her alone in a void.

"I can't see it, Carmen," Bernadette whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't see anything. It's all just... dark."

Carmen squeezed her arm gently. "I know, Maam Badette" she said softly. "But the sun is still there, shining on you. Even if you can't see it, it's there. Just like all the people who care about you. We're all still here."

Bernadette's heart ached at Carmen's words. She wanted to believe her, to feel the comfort of her presence, but the darkness around her seemed to seep into her very soul. "I feel so lost," she confessed. "Like I'm drifting in this emptiness, and I don't know how to find my way back."

Carmen guided her to a nearby bench and helped her sit down. "It's okay to feel lost," she said gently. "You're going through something incredibly difficult. But you don't have to find your way back all at once. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you're not alone. We're all here to help you."

Bernadette nodded, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench. She tried to take a deep breath, to let the warmth of the sun and the fresh air fill her lungs, but it felt like a hollow effort. She wished she could see Carmen's face, see the reassurance in her eyes. She missed the simple comfort of a familiar smile, the small gestures that once brought her peace.

"I don't know how to do this," she admitted. "I don't know how to live like this."

Carmen placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she said. "Just know that it's okay to feel this way, and it's okay to ask for help. You're stronger than you think, Maam Badette. You've already come this far."

Bernadette listened to Carmen's words, trying to find some solace in them. She wanted to be strong, to face this new reality with courage, but the darkness was all-consuming, a constant reminder of her loss.

As she sat there, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face, she realized she had a choice. She could let the darkness consume her, let it define her life, or she could fight back, find a way to reclaim her world, even if it meant doing so in the dark.

"I'll try," she said finally, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how, but I'll try."

Carmen smiled, even though Bernadette couldn't see it. "That's all anyone can ask," she replied softly. "One step at a time. And I'll be right here with you every step of the way."

Bernadette nodded, a small flicker of determination igniting in her chest. It wasn't much, but it was something—a start. And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to help her find her way through the darkness.

Bernadette's fingers fumbled for her phone, and she called out to Carmen. "Carmen, could you please dial Dr. Alexander Farrones for me?"

"Of course, Maam Badette," Carmen replied, her voice steady and comforting. She picked up the phone and dialed the number, holding it up to Bernadette's ear.

The phone rang a few times before Dr. Farrones's voice came through, warm and familiar. "Hello? This is Alexander Farrones."

"Dr. Farrones," Bernadette said softly, her voice trembling. "It's Bernadette. I... I need to talk to you. I've had an accident and... I'm blind now."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Bernadette could almost hear the shock in his voice. "Bernadette? Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. How... how did this happen?"

Bernadette explained as best she could, recounting the accident and the subsequent news of her blindness. Dr. Farrones listened intently, his voice filled with concern.

"That's... that's terrible, Bernadette," he said finally. "I can't believe this has happened to you. I just finished my studies abroad and was about to return. I had no idea about any of this."

"You've been so far away," Bernadette said, her voice breaking. "I didn't want to trouble you. I just... I don't know what to do. Everything feels so overwhelming."

Dr. Farrones's tone softened, filled with reassurance. "I understand. And I want you to know that you're not alone in this. I've been trained to deal with these kinds of situations, and I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "I'll be back as soon as possible, Bernadette. I promise. Once I'm home, we'll assess your situation and see what we can do. I know it's a difficult time, but please try to stay hopeful. There's always a way forward, and we'll find it together."

Tears slipped down Bernadette's cheeks as she listened to Dr. Farrones's words. His encouragement and promise were a small beacon of hope in the overwhelming darkness. "Thank you, Alexander," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "It means a lot to hear that."

"Of course," Dr. Farrones said gently. "I'll be in touch, and I'll make sure to keep you updated. In the meantime, try to lean on those around you. You're strong, Bernadette, and you have a lot of people who care about you. We'll get through this."

As the call ended, Carmen put the phone down and placed a comforting hand on Bernadette's shoulder. "Dr. Farrones sounds like he'll be a great help," she said softly. "You're lucky to have such a caring friend."

Bernadette nodded, trying to draw strength from the conversation. "Yes, I am. I just need to hold on a little longer. He'll be back soon, and maybe then... maybe then we'll find a way to make things better."

Carmen nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, Maam Badette. You're not alone, and there's hope on the horizon."

Bernadette took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Dr. Farrones's support and the encouragement of those around her, she knew she had to keep pushing forward, no matter how daunting the path ahead seemed.

In the quiet of her room, Bernadette lay still, the only sound being the soft rustle of the curtains in the breeze and the distant hum of the city beyond her window. The darkness was all-encompassing, a constant reminder of her current reality. As she lay there, her mind drifted to a world of wishful thoughts, a place where her dreams and desires mingled with the flickering hope that refused to be completely extinguished.