From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter Five

 On the 17th day, Amy woke up. My mother and I were there and so were her parents. My thoughts were overwhelming. I was glad she woke up but suddenly the loss of our child hit me and I knew she'd break down once she got the news. But what I didn't know is that our child was not the only thing she lost.

When Amy started to wake up from her coma, the doctor told us she was regaining her conscious and we all went inside to see her. She slowly awoke and with every movement of her body, my heart became more relieved. For a moment, I thought we will return home and have our normal life back. Yes, she would be upset about our baby but I will help her get over it. I was her rock and I always will be. I remember every single reaction that day. Amy opened her eyes slowly and sat up on the bed. Her face was less pale but she looked weak and almost fragile. We were all gathered around her eager to hear her say anything. When her eyes first opened, they didn't meet mine and my heart ached at that. Instead, she kept them casted on the wall in front of her not looking at any of us. The first thing coming out of her mouth was her asking where she was. The doctor assured her saying she had an accident and is in hospital. No one mentioned the fact that she was in a coma or that she had a miscarriage because she didn't look ready to process this information yet. However, the next question she asked was one that nearly drained the life from us all. "Why are the lights off?" That was the question.

We all looked at each other in awe. I held her hand tight when the realization hit me "Baby, I'm right here," My voice broke as I spoke to her but I managed to hold up.

"Travis," Her eyes still didn't meet mine and I knew why. The doctor had something like a tiny torch and asked Amy to stay still. He opened her eyes each at a time and examined them. He didn't need to speak afterward as the look he gave us was enough. "What is it? What's wrong, doctor?"

In his formal voice, the doctor apologized before telling us the news that Amy might have lost her sight. Mrs. Collins put both hands on her mouth and cried until her mascara melted down her face. Mr. Collins was frozen for seconds then moved to hug his wife comfortingly and silent tears left his eyes. Ellie, too, cried silently. My mum looked at both me and Amy in agony and the tears filled her eyes but stayed inside. She was always like that; collected and tough. Amy had her eyes open wide as if trying to fight her fate and see. She cried hysterically and I took her in my arms as she sobbed in my chest. "no, that's not possible, please..." was all she kept saying in between her loud sobs. Her legs were kicking at the bed as if the blindness was someone trying to get to her and she could push them away. What about me? Well, I didn't let a single tear slip from my eyes. I knew Amy couldn't see me and probably wouldn't know I cried but I knew if I started crying I wouldn't stop. And I needed to be strong for her and our families. I needed to hold myself to be able to hold her too. My chin rested on her head as she nuzzled in my chest crying. All my thoughts vanished alongside with the rest of the world. All I had at that moment was her in my arms crying for comfort. Knowing that no matter how I tried I wouldn't give her what she needed at that moment. The doctor demanded a brain scan to clearly understand the case and whether her blindness was one out of trauma or if it's something serious. This meant additional days for Amy in the hospital. It took three days for the results of the scan and during those days, Amy was transferred to a private room. We continued to visit her. Sometimes she stayed silent and let her emotions build up inside of her, for the next day to burst in uncontrollable tears. After we got the results of the scan and her doctor told us the accident had severely affected the vision centers of the brain when she hit her head hard which caused temporary blindness. Quoting the doctor's words, her recovery was possible if she undergoes surgery; but he said the percentage of success was less than 25%. We couldn't tell her that information, no one wanted to disappoint her like this. We only said the part about her case being temporary and a simple surgery could fix all of this.

What made things worse is that we had to tell Amy the rest of the bad news about our baby. I couldn't do it alone; in fact, I couldn't do it at all so both our mothers did. Her crying didn't increase because it was not possible for a human being to cry any louder or harder. We couldn't even tell if she had heard what they said or if she was still crying about her lost sight. I wanted to hold her until her pain goes away; I wanted to even take that pain and let it eat up my heart. It was then that I realized that I was indeed willing to take the pain and be the blind one but have her get her sight back. I was willing to live blind for the rest of my life because Amy was my light and my guide. But I was not sure if I'll be able to give her as much as she gives me. The difficult thing then was knowing that it wasn't up to any of us and that all that had happened was inevitable because it was fate. Who am I to rewrite the stars, right?

I vowed to myself that I will try to find a solution, I will try to reach as many doctors as I can until I find the right one for Amy's case. Her father said he would do the same and I had nothing to hold on to but the little string of hope that lingered in my heart.

Amy didn't speak to anyone in the hospital. Only when her parents offered to have her stay with them until she is mentally better, she refused weakly, while tugging at my hand slightly letting me know she preferred to stay with me instead. For that I was thankful.

When we went home that night, Peanut ran to Amy and snuggled to her as if trying to comfort her, like he knew what happened. Amy had stopped crying by that time, but it was not over for her. I had to lead her slowly to the bathroom and helped her shower to freshen up and, quoting her words, get the hospital smell off of her. After that, I helped her put her clothes on and offered to make her something to eat but she refused. I didn't know what to do to help her with this. I remembered how she always finds her escape when painting and this was my breaking point. The thought of her not painting again, broke my heart to pieces and tears poured down my face silently. Amy broke the silence saying she was tired and wanted to sleep. "Okay," was all I managed to say and my voice broke in an obvious way that I saw her wince a little and knew then she realized I was crying. I helped her to bed and on each side of the bed we both lied down pretending that we fell asleep.

Amy's hysterical crying started all over the following day. And continued until the day after. It was not just her crying that cast a shadow over everything, but what she kept saying all the time. "I can't do this, I don't want to stay in this darkness," Hearing her say those words over and over left me grief-stricken. She barely ate anything and hardly slept. Her father called multiple times to ask how we were holding up.

He wanted to come visit but my mother in law,Mrs. Collins had taken it bad and was devastated thus the man wanted to get herto calm down first before they can come visit. I had also told her friends to waitfor a few days before trying to reach her just to give her some space.