From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter Nine

Monday was spent with our small group of friends. Everyone was acting normal and no one showed any signs of sadness for the fact that Amy was blind. But like I mentioned, they acted. I still caught a few sympathetic glimpses in some eyes here and there. I had to get up many times to get them beverages, and snacks before the lunch was ready. My cooking skills had improved through the past period but the dishwashing and cleaning were some things I grew to despise to a great extent. Amy invited them over to share the good news of her upcoming surgery but I knew it wasn't just me and Peanut who heard the uncertainty in her voice. She was scared. Her voice drained of doubt whenever she spoke of the surgery. It became clear to me what she was doing. The previous days she didn't feel much optimism like she attempted to show. She was distracting herself from the unconstructive thoughts of the operation's failure. We were still with 25 percent of success. As desperate as it sounds but I clung to that hope with every piece of my heart. In the end, what choices did I have? Sometimes that small trace of hope is what keeps us alive in a treacherous world. Facing the cruelness of life unarmed kills the soul bit by bit. I never had it in me. I was never brave enough to surrender to reality. When everything says 'no' I'll create a tiny voice in my head that says 'yes' and I'll listen to it. It was something I learned from Amy. She was the only one I knew who would receive bad news with a smile and think of a solution to fix things. It was her way of living. She didn't live and let live, instead, she lived and helped others live as well. Having faith, and believing everything happens for a reason, didn't stop me from feeling angry at times. Seeing how good of a person Amy has always been, I was mad that she had to experience a fate so harsh. That was another reason I was optimistic about her surgery. She never hurt a soul before, she was one who spread cheerfulness wherever she went. By all means, she was a gift from God to anyone who knew her. She was a miracle. With all her flaws, she was nothing but extraordinarily as close to perfection as anyone can ever get. She was drowning in the dusk of her blindness; it was as evident as daylight. Her regaining her sight was her only way out. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, remember? Traces of just a little fear that maybe it was too good to be true, roamed my mind. But my heart wasn't capable of conceding to reality.

Our night with our friends was long. Long enough to get on my nerves. I liked and adored each one of them. Even Hardin, whom I once hated. What got on my nerves, was the fact the I had to make dinner as well as lunch. I searched for any leftovers, we might have but found none. I had to make beef and mushrooms with mashed potatoes for dinner because I didn't know what else I could make for them. The mushrooms were already on my mind since I used them for the lunch meal, which was a lasagna that didn't end up as I planned. No one judged me though. I was famous for my moderate cooking skills and if anything, I was impressively improving and it was noticeable. Even if the food wasn't as good as it was supposed to normally be if someone else would've made it. After thinking about whether I was being judged or not, I realized I can't truly tell. If there were any negative comments about my cooking, I probably wasn't there to hear it. Amy is quicker at cooking than I. Thus, I barely spent any time with our guests. I only left the kitchen when the food was done. Burning our kitchen was a risk I couldn't take. So I had to stay there all day. I remembered how Amy always knew what to cook and never spent half an hour, like I do, to decide a certain type of food. She always had something planned, unless we had leftovers from the day before. And this she knew about, without having to look through the fridge and waste another extra minute. She was just so good at it. When I used to live alone, I used to spent lots of money on ordering food. And the few recipes I knew were more than sufficient to me. Day by day, things were getting harder without Amy's interference. And my prayers were being repeated over and over more than before.

The next morning we had a family gathering and Ellie made it. It was at the Collins' place. Amy and I were the first to arrive followed by Ellie, an hour later. My mum was invited to but she was the one who couldn't make it this time. "I'm sorry darling, I have a lot to do. Maybe some other day." She had told me while looking through stacks of papers on her desk that morning. In the past years, my rare connection with mum at work, never bothered me because I never got to notice it. I had Amy with me most of the time, and she was indeed a distraction. I didn't feel as lonely as I did. After the accident, my time at work was dull. My colleagues were fun to be around but they were just that. Colleagues. I spoke to Amy about it when we were getting ready to leave. "Wasn't she always a workaholic?" Amy had asked in reference to my mum. "Not really, I remember her being more present in my life when I was younger," I mumbled while bottoming up my shirt. Her gaze was still fixed at her lap as she sat on the bed waiting for me to finish. "I think it's her best bet, you know." Amy remarked, "She always seems to have a lot on her mind and maybe she doesn't want to bother you with her problems,"