Blind Not Oblivious

Three

I felt smooth linen under my hands. My fingertips quietly rejoiced for my sense of touch had not fled my body. I took a deep breath in, feeling the cool air fill my lungs and the scent of rubber and cleaning products tickle my nose. I heard someones presence. If that makes any sense. I heard their soft breathing. Their awkward shift to comfort. I heard pages turning, tearing through the still air. I wasn't dead. I wasn't alone. A small smile silently formed.

"Hello, who is there," I wanted to say because I had not found the energy to open my tired eye lids yet. But when my lips parted only a breath was released. No words. No sounds. The silence now hung heavier in the awkward, clean smelling, soft room. I tried again, straining my vocal cords to release a single "hey". But only breath escaped. 

I tried harder. Now trying to force a whisper. Breath. I tried a sigh. Breath. A whimper. Breath. At least I knew I could breathe. But what was happening. Why was my throat disobeying my commands. They were simple. Just say "Hi". I am not asking for a scream or to sing an Opera in A Minor God dammit!

Calm down. Everything is fine. I tell myself. Freaking out will not help the situation. Think logically and try again. I focused on the darkness my closed eyelids provided and opened my mouth hoping that they would finally release something. I felt my vocal cords vibrate in my throat and finally released - another breath.

What the hell is going on! I had finally found energy only because my frustration brought some with it. I started to open my eyelids. But I only saw dark. I tried forcing my eyes to see the light of day or maybe the shadows of night or whatever time of day we were in. But no matter how hard I tried, they would not open. I kept seeing a void, vast and silent. 

I was losing it. What was wrong with me. I can't find the strength to speak or open my eyes. I'm not tired anymore. I am wide awake. It shouldn't be -

I couldn't feel the pressure of my eyelids. My long eyelashes weren't resting on my face. This must have been why the darkness seemed so vast, as if it went on forever. I stared into the black void as I finally realized. I couldn't open my eyes because they were already open.

I lay there. Feeling the atmosphere of the room grow a thousand pounds as the soft, clean, awkward, silent, violent, harsh air sat on my chest. I begin to breathe again. But not single desperate breaths. Loud, angry, clusters as I feel my chest rise up and down like waves on the stormy sea. My hands, once celebrating the touch of the soft sheets at my side now took them and balled into a fist as I tried my hardest to release a scream.

"Elliot?"

My breaths finally stop as I am taken by surprise. The words are so calming. So soft and caring. Like they always were. If only I could see her lips move as she says my name. If only I could see her big brown eyes and soft blonde hair fall next to her cheek bones. If only I could see the book I heard when she turned the stiff pages.

"Honey, are you alright" she asks as I hesitant movement and a weight sit down on my bed. I feel her hands gently touch my arm in reassurance. 

 If only I could ask her what book it was and if it was good. If only if I could tell her how much I love her. If I only I could reach out and say "Mom, what is wrong with me"

But I guess my world has become a world full of the sentence, "If only I ..."