Handicapped

Part Five

Before I knew it, I was hugging my family members and exchanging goodbyes with them in LA. We were now in front of the hotel that I was staying in for the week of the competition. I was told that there was going to be a helper for me if I ever needed guidance. It was kind of them. However, the little tasks like wearing clothes and going to the bathroom were easy when you've been used to cooking gourmet food without eyesight.

"Emily, I'm so proud of you. Your father would've been too," my mother said, hugging me tightly. I then hugged both of my sisters and made my way to the hotel with the help of one of the staff.

The next day was hectic. All of the competitors, myself included, were supposed to be escorted to the grand kitchen at noon. The grand kitchen was supposedly where The Next Top Chef took place. Furthermore, we all ended up in a horizontal line beside each other. 

The two people next to me had steady breathing. I struggled to understand how they wouldn't be anxious before such an important competition. My breath was hitching and my hands were shaking. My mind kept bringing up negative thoughts again. What if I'm not good enough? What if I lose just because I'm blind? To calm myself down, I decided to focus more on my surroundings. I heard the voices of the contestants chattering to each other. I wondered if they were talking about the blind girl competing against them. Focus on your surroundings, I thought to myself again. 

I heard the sounds of the producers and directors yelling. This made me remember that if I mess up, millions of people will watch me. I began to overthink again, but thought of my father. I wondered what he would've said. 

Maybe, "You'll do great, Emily. Just remember to think positive and do your best." That said, it was at least what he would've told 10-year-old Emily.

"Can I have your attention?" A female voice said in such a loud voice that the room turned quiet. "Welcome, you have all been accepted to be the 10 contestants of The Next Top Chef. The rules are simple: there are 5 rounds. The more you advance in the competition, the harder it gets. Each one of you will have their own station to be given enough space and freedom to cook your dish. Your station will also contain all the equipment and ingredients you need. After you finish cooking your dish, the judges will come by to taste the dish. They will give you a number to score your dish out of a hundred. The two dishes with the least scores will not have a chance to participate again and will be eliminated. Therefore, two will be eliminated in each round leaving two finalists in the last round. Any questions?"

As expected, there were no questions. We were all quiet trying to gather all the information. "The doors will open in ten minutes; take deep breaths and remember to act professional," the lady said one last time. I then heard the sounds of footsteps walking away, and realized that she was now gone.

"Hello," A girl said next to me in a high-pitched voice. This meant that she was a bit uneasy. "You haven't talked much. What's your name?"

"Emily," I said, quietly. She was right, I hadn't talked for an hour or so. "Yours?"

"Aaliyah." She said, in a quiet voice. I hated having conversations with strangers. It's like hearing a brand-new voice come out of the darkness. "You don't look at people when you talk to them either. How strange," she said, confused.

"I'm blind," I said, blatantly. It didn't really need an explanation. It was one short sentence to set the records straight. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Wait, if you're blind then how do you cook?" she asked, beginning to get on my nerves.

"Easy, I use my other senses."

"You could burn yourself, you know."

"I only burnt myself in the beginning. I've rarely burnt myself for at least five years." That silenced her. Thankfully, no one else tried to talk to me.

"ONE MINUTE LEFT!" One of the producers yelled out, making me even more anxious. Soon enough, the doors opened. Taking a deep breath, I went inside.