Sightless

Night is Not the End

I sat down on the end of my bed, waiting as my Uncle and Dr. Deroux made themselves comfortable on my couch. My uncle nodded his head and I began my account of the torturous journey here. It was very late, or very early in the morning depending on how you look at it, by the time I was finished. They both had waited patiently until the end to ask their questions and had remained silent throughout the whole tale. Deroux leaned back in his seat. "So," he began "You're the only one of your group left alive?" "Other than Evan, Yes." "Do you know if he has any family?" "According to him, they're dead as well."

My uncle stood up and straightened his blazer. "We must do something about that. He has no home to return to, and I'm the only family you have left. I know that no one can ever replace your family, but we can ease the pain of their death." I raised my eyebrows, "And just how do you plan on doing that?" He smiled weakly, "You'll see."

Evan carefully cut into the wood. Carving had always been one of his favorite past times, and he had become quite good at it. Slowly, a girl's head began to emerge from the birch block. He studied the picture to his left, following the shape of the rounded nose exactly. He very nearly dropped his knife as his door was thrown open. "Evan! Evan! Evan!" Evva came rushing in and threw her arms around his neck, embracing him. He stood still, unsure of what to do. She laughed and released him, "Look!" She held and official looking paper in front of his face. He took it from her and skimmed it, searching for the reason for her excitement. This time, he did drop his knife and it skittered under the table. His eyes widened and slowly filled with tears; not with tears brought by sadness or pain, but tears of joy. "Thank you; Thank you!" He exclaimed and hugged Evva tightly. She wiggled from his grip, "I always wondered what having a big brother would be like." Dr. Rose entered the room and clapped Evan on the shoulder. "I've never had kids, but having such a wonderful son and daughter will be an honor."

"We're here." I opened the car door ad Dr. Rose brought it to a stop. My feet crunched over the frost-covered grass and I pulled my jacket tighter around me. My eyes scanned the field, searching for a stone. I found it without much trouble; its reddish tinge of it stood out against the white. I knelt beside it, ignoring the wet that was seeping into my jeans. I was joined by Evan and Dr. Rose, who were lugging a marble headstone. They signaled to me and I rolled away the stone that had served as a temporary marker for Norah's grave. They set the permanent one upon the spot and we stepped back. It read, 'Norah Rose 2203-2208 She brought a ray of sunshine into this cloudy world.' We searched and searched, but we couldn't find Ashton's grave. I didn't feel that bad though; I never really liked him anyway. Evan tapped my shoulder and extended his hand. He was holding a small blue gift bag. Taken aback, I accepted the parcel and pulled out the contents. In my hand I held an intricately carved statuette of Norah. The attention to detail was astounding; everything was perfect, right down to the pattern on her dress. "It's lovely" I whispered. "I can't thank you enough." He enveloped me in a warm hug. Everything felt right with the world for that small instant. I knew in my heart that everything was not alright and that everything wouldn't be alright for a very long time, but I truly believe and could honestly say that this was the turning point; things had finally started to get better.

Two years later, and the whole experience was still fresh in my mind. Tears still wet my pillow at night when I recalled the dead, but gradually, things were coming together again. The infection had decimated the world's human population, bodies had begun to pile up, but a cure had at last been discovered. An anti-bacteria, developed specifically to the bacteria that attacked the Sightless, was to be injected into the bloodstream where it would flow all over the body, effectively destroying the infection. The victim would eventually heal, but the long term damage was irreversible. They would be a generation of mentally handicapped cripples; but they would adapt, time would move on, the world would heal; for that is its way.

The old saying, "United we stand, divided we fall," comes to mind to describe the ordeal. We fell, and suffered a bone-shattering landing. But we came together and stood again on wobbling legs. We burned and were reborn from the ashes, stronger than we could have ever imagined.

The END