Word count: 1,194
I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin as it woke me from my dark slumber. I felt lost for a moment till my hands grazed the soft material of the blankets. I took a deep breathe and swung my legs over and felt the cool, wood flooring under my feet. I felt vibrations under my feet indicating that someone was in this room and walking towards me. The bed dipped down from the weight of another being, and something started pulling at my hair. I could only guess that it was my mother brushing my hair. I turned and reached my hand out to feel the person’s face; they grabbed my hands and guided me the rest of the way. I felt their long hair and their thin nose and smiling face. My mom. I smiled too, though I have no idea if either of us look absolutely ridiculous, or anything because of my sight and hearing problem.
I wasn’t born with it; I was able to see and hear just like any other normal person, but one day I got really sick and then woke up just like this. Not being able to hear doesn't help, because now anyone can’t tell me why this happened. My mom helped me stand and we started walking; I’m guessing to breakfast, the same as every morning for three years. I let my hand trail against the wall on my left as my mother held my right wrist. The wall was smooth, and cool to the touch, I let my hand feel the edge and then go back to the flat surface.
Someone pushed into me and ran off, my mother tried helping me catch my balance, but failed. I felt a strong grip grab my left arm and help me. Once I was stable I let my hand go up to the person’s face, I knew automatically it was my older brother, Isaac, by his stubble and chiseled chin. I felt his body vibrate and I guessed that he was laughing. I figured it was my younger brother who had pushed into me, and almost pushed me over.
Isaac helped mom get me down the stairs safely and then I felt the arm on my right leave my side. Isaac kept speaking, what he was saying I have no idea, but I felt his arm resonate with his words. As we walked I smelt something burning and Isaac’s arm vibrated; without being able to hear I knew he said that dad was cooking. He helped me into a seat and handed me a cold glass. I felt around the lip of the glass but couldn’t find a straw and I frowned. I placed the cup on the table, and sighed.
My dark, soundless world bothered me sometimes, but I had to live this way, because this is who I am now. I suddenly felt a cold rush on my lap. I gasped and smelled the strong smell of orange juice. My cup spilled, and all of its contents were all over me and the table. I suddenly felt something pressing against my legs. I placed my hand on it to feel the fuzzy, plushness, and warmth that was the towel mopping up the juice from my legs.
I felt embarrassed by what just happened, as if I was able to control it. I was lifted up and carried bridal style, by whom, I’m thinking my father, and taken up the stairs and seated on a bed, I’m guessing we are in my room. I felt feminine hands helping me with my warm pajama bottoms. I shook my head to say ‘no, I can do it.’ but I don’t think that my mom was going to comply. I felt the towel drying my legs off more thoroughly, and a new pair of slightly cold, but still soft bottoms slip over my legs. I smelled lilac, my mother’s favorite perfume, it was very calming.
I tried to recall events before my dark world set in, but I couldn’t think of much. I lied down and placed a hand over my useless eyes. Being blind wouldn’t have been that bad, neither would being deaf, but I was plagued with both and I was completely cut off from the rest of the world. I felt the tears slip down my face, and I sniffled; catching the smell of something sweet.
I was helped into a sitting position, and I felt something poke at my lips. Opening my mouth, the squishy object was sweet and a little burnt. I chewed and swallowed, enjoying the taste of the syrup on the bread. After a couple of other sweet bites of the burnt bread, a straw was placed next to my mouth and I drank the cold liquid, which by the taste turned out to be milk.
After breakfast, I was led back downstairs and was sat down on a plush chair. I’m guessing this is the living room and everyone is probably staring, being extra precautionary to make sure I don’t hurt myself. If memory serves me right, Isaac and my younger brother, Wyatt, are at school. I have a tutor, a guy with a chiseled face and broad shoulders. Of course I don’t know his name; I do know it starts with a B. I’m slowly, and I mean slowly learning braille; we started with A… I think. You know, now that I think about it, I might be completely wrong.
I only have classes on certain days, I’m not sure which; in my dark world there are no days of the week, things just happen. Take this morning for example, I can feel the table but can’t see it, so little accidents happen from time to time. I sat on the chair and felt its soft, bumpy surface.
As I sat staring at nothing I felt a hand ruffle my hair. Most likely my father. When I tried talking once he placed his finger over my mouth, in a hush signal. Since then I haven’t said a word. My mother took me outside, I knew because of the fresh hair, and the mocking feeling of the warm sun on my skin. We went on a long walk, and when the warmth started to get cooler, we finally got back home.
Once home, I was taken back to the plush chair; only this one was longer, a couch I presume. There someone wrapped their muscled arm around my shoulder. By the smell of the cologne, I’m guessing I was back in Isaac’s arms. After awhile of just sitting there, Isaac was probably watching TV, Isaac stood up, making the couch rise from the loss of weight; he grabbed my hand and led me back upstairs to my room.
The smell of lilacs soon came in once I was seated on my bed. Gently pushing me to the squishy lump, my pillow, that was under my head, I felt a gentle press of lips on my head. Without hearing, I knew my mom was silently telling me in her own way, ‘Goodnight Kay, I love you, no matter what.’
