Blue ✓

♠ fifteen ♠

In hindsight, Aiyla perhaps should have expected this.

Even while striving to keep ties of relations with Abbu's side of family after his passing, Ammi had never accepted any scraps of charity from them, never mind ask for help. She took great pains in remaining financially independent, using the savings Abbu had left behind, her own earnings and child benefits for all the expenses. Despite the frugality, she never denied her children when they wanted something.

But Aiyla and Suhayl had learnt to contain their wants to whatever they needed rather than everything they wanted. That never stopped Ammi from spoiling them whenever she could spare the money for it.

So, it only makes sense that Ammi wouldn't let her live without sight if there was a possible method of cure.

But to go as far as contacting a private surgery... Aiyla knew second-hand how expensive they were, even for a mere consultation. To book an operation at a private surgery would cost more than a few thousands. That's excluding the consultations and recovery period.

Sitting on the garden chair Ammi had insisted on placing in the garden, she placed her head between her knees. How is it that within six months everything in her life has turned upside down?

Going from a prospective career-path in hopes of supporting her mother into a crippled girl burdening the shoulders she wanted to take the loads off.

She couldn't say no – not when Ammi had asked her to give the treatment a go in a voice of thinly concealed sunshine.

She sighed, the vice around her heart tightening, the darkness dizzying.

There were moments, initially when she was staying at the hospital, when the darkness would be a dark grey instead of pitch black. When she would be able to see blobs of shapes, in muted colours moving around her. Nothing distinct. Those were the days she believed she would be able to recover her sight.

Dr. Smith certainly gave off that impression. Those days were filled with reassurances, and words of comfort – before they fizzled away into nothing.

But now – she can't say she's completely adapted to the darkness, that would be a lie – but she had certainly reached where she'd half-accepted that this will be the rest of her life. Hidden in black, unable to see her little brother as he ages and matures, and her Ammi as she ages and grows old. Unable to see her husband (if anyone marries her) and any future children.

The idea hadn't completely settled in her mind yet, but the foundation has been set.

This recent development seemed to put strain on that foundation. Does she want to see again? Of course. Does she want to be a burden on her mother?

No.

Amidst her thoughts, something flew at her. Only the whistling wind warned her of it. She blindly raises a hand to block it. Thankfully, it gently landed on her lap.

Aiyla poked at it curiously, feeling the rustle of wrapping paper around the object.

"Nice catch," said a familiar voice.

She scowled back at him. "That could've hit me on the face!"

"But it didn't. So, it's fine right?"

"Not. The point." She mumbled back mulishly. "What is it?"

"Eid Mubarak." He replied like that answered her question. Perhaps it did.

"You got me a gift?" She picked up the small object.

"Uh-uh."

"But-"

"No buts."

"I didn't get you anything." Because she didn't expect him to give anything. Does that mean he considers her a friend?