Unable ☾ Dodie Clark

04

It's never closing your eyes.

When has it ever been like closing your eyes?

Who made the suggestion that this was even similar to closing your eyes?

Tears started to drip onto the keys, and she felt it. It was like a wet piece of herself was falling, heavily and quickly. She felt it land on her pointer finger, specifically on her fingernail. When she rubbed it with her thumb felt glossy. Rubbing it together with her thumb and her pointer finger made the tear disintegrate.

Her mouth quivered, and her hands began to shake. Her body felt fragile and wobbly, like it was about to crumble into pieces any second. Her legs suddenly were overbarred with weight, but the chair she was slumped in caught it. Her toes went numb, but she didn't have the strength to wiggle them back to life.

Still, she kept her eyes open, blinking every time she exhaled. She felt like if she closed her eyes she would surrender herself to the darkness. She had given up too many times. If she let it engulf her, she would break down. Collapse. Go back to Harvail's. Get medication. Stay in a room, with a lady with a too-kind voice. Get a bill, which Dad would scream at her for.

Pursing her lips, clearing her throat, she kept her eyes vulnerable and wide, hoping that her pupils were keeping a straight gaze.

Her fingers began to fly as she pounded the keys, power in every tap.

If you close your eyes, you can't see. That doesn't mean you're like me.

If you close your eyes, you're able to open them again. In an instant. Like it was nothing. When I was a kid I used to think that if I believed enough, if I pushed myself and tried really hard...it would come back. I would lock myself in my room, throwing my head against the wall. Desperate for something. Anything. I asked Jensen to look up the definition for sight. He didn't, but after persisting, he got on his tablet and read it aloud, in a gentle voice.

"The faculty or power of seeing." Power. I forgot what that meant. I asked him to look that one up, too. He refused. I yelled. He still said he wouldn't. Then he watched me...

Breathing unsteady, she heard eager footsteps.

In a flash, she wiped her tear-stained cheeks and rubbed her eyes. Drying her hands on her pants, and fiddling her hands on the machine, taking the paper out of the typewriter and stuffing it in a drawer. She was able to cover up her hurt in an instant.

A burst of wind blew her hair off of her shoulders, grazing on her back. A clang of a hand grasping the doorknob. Melanie gulped.

"AAAHHH!" Unhuman noises came from someone. Melanie relaxed and slapped a fake smile on her face. She immediately felt safe, and she lessened her grip on her faded skinny jeans.

"I FOUND IT! I FINALLY FOUND IT!" Jensen half-yelled excitedly. Melanie shook her head to herself as her fake smile turned real.

"I could say so many things right no-"

"HE. DID. A. SONG. A SONG, MEL! A SONG!" Melanie could feel Jensen's eyes sparkling with glee.

"A song?" Melanie mimicked.

"A COVER! A COLLAB! With this one chick who I don't really know..." His voice mumbled the last part, but Melanie's impeccable hearing picked it up.

Jensen sat on her bed, the old springs gave a croak in response, Jensen clicked a few keys on his laptop.

"And the best part is, you'll like it! It's that one song you like...Turn and Shout?" Melanie snorted.

"Twist and Shout. Are you talking about that one guy on Youtube who you're always blabbering on about? Hack Hoeward?"