She.

A Story by Melody

Short story I wrote for class. Will you please read?

The road was slick from the heavy rain. She was in the rural part of New York on Boulevard East; the narrow two-way road was overlooking a steep causeway into the ocean. She had driven it during daylight, but she avoiding it at night- and had successfully done so until now, and she was not enjoying driving on it in terrible weather conditions. The road was so black it blended into the sky, and the cliff on the far left side of the road seemed to be zooming in on her- frame by frame. She was inching her way back to her cozy apartment on the right side, closest to the cliff. She didn’t see the speeding truck. The truck was wider than its own lane. Its’ tire slipped on a puddle, causing a sudden swerve. It collided into the left side of her red Nissan Sentra, forcing her to go over the ledge and down the sheer embankment. Then it was intermission.

October 18. 2015

Her alarm clock was blinking its neon blue numbers. 12:30 AM. She couldn’t see them; though she remembered when she could. It had been a week since she got released from the hospital. The day she got home, she sat on her couch, and looked out her window-- as if she could see out.

October 25, 2015

“I don’t need groceries, ma, I’m fine.

“Yes, ma, I’m eating.”

“Jimmy John’s delivers, ma, and Kelly helps out too.”

“What do you mean what do I eat for breakfast? I don’t wake up until past noon.”

“Bye, ma. Love you too.”

She puts down the phone. Two weeks have passed, and she is not ready to accept the most drastic change to occur in her short 24 years of a still life. She knew she was missing something; she didn’t want it to be sight. She would miss the fall leaves in the sparse trees of New York City. She would miss being able to take photos, she would miss the tacky mauve of the bathroom wall in her charming apartment. She would miss a lot of things about her life; but she was not close to admitting her loss.

October 26, 2015

This was not the first time she had awoken on her antique lounge couch. She stretched up, ignoring the cracks and pops that came from her joints. She walked her way into the bathroom, a route she had memorized now. She brushed her teeth, though hurriedly, as she knew that she had to clean up her act before Kelly, her assistant, arrived. She didn’t want Kelly to feel guilty or obligated. She knew way around her own house, and that was all she needed. She made a mental list as to what she would have Kelly do today: dishes, laundry, and simple cleaning.

She got out of the shower, she had shower OCD and had always put her shower supplies in the same place every day. She put on her robe, which she knew was light blue with white polka dots. As soon as she carefully stepped her way out of the bathroom, Kelly knocked on the door in a little tune that they had arranged, so she knew it was Kelly. She unlocked the chain lock, and opened the door. She had meant to order a key for Kelly, but the building manager wasn’t returning any messages.

She sat down, and let Kelly get to her normal everyday stuff. They would go through the emails, the mail, then Kelly would entertain her with snarky comments about little stuff like gossip. Kelly would make coffee, and fix a light lunch. Eventually, Kelly would drag her out into public for the shopping, even though it just reminded her that she could not see, but she did it for Kelly. After the trip to the store, Kelly made a simple dinner, did the dishes, made some tea, and switched the clothes over from the washer to the dryer. After typing up a journal entry on her laptop, Kelly would leave for the day.

November 1, 2015

Three weeks have now passed, and she has recuperated enough to begin life skills coaching. Her therapist, Ben, has begun showing up daily for therapy that consists of learning to adapt to her new, blind life. Ben arrives in the mid afternoon, and they spend six hours a day. The first two hours are spent learning the braille alphabet, and the remaining time is spent concentrating on basic life skills such as: getting dressed, cooking, and mobility skills. She does not enjoy the daily appointment, because she finds them belittling, yet she knows that they will help her regain her confidence in living independently. Kelly continues her daily routine, and she finds herself enjoying the time spent with new found friend.

December 18, 2015

It was winter now, and she was not moving as joyfully as she should have been. She should have known to call off her mother’s arrival. Her mother would spend the time worrying, and she would worry about not worrying her mother. Ben had insisted that he not come for the appointments while her mother was in town, and Kelly had requested two weeks off for vacation since it was Christmas time. She was not happy her mother had to take a taxi to the apartment, she was not happy that her mother was taking her on walks everyday, and she was not happy that she didn’t set any Christmas decorations up. Winter used to be one of her favorite seasons for photos; the snow, the icicles, and the families bundled up in gloves, coats, scarves, and hats,

She would miss the revealing of Spring, melting snow, and morning dew. She would miss all of it, and she wishes she was alone. When she thought her mother wasn’t looking, she would have frowns, and be on the brink of tears. Of course, her mother knew, she couldn’t say anything though, because she knew her daughter would deny the fact that she couldn’t see, deny the fact that she would miss simple things, deny the fact that she was blind.

December 28, 2015

Her mother left town today, and Ben can not come in for two more days because of a cold. She had to see something, but she couldn’t. She opened up the frozen door to her small balcony. She stepped out, and felt the snow. It was cold, but she loved it. She sat against the brick wall and slid down into the snow packed on to her small terrace. She sniffed, she listened, and rolled snow in her bare hands- ignoring the cold. After 15 minutes, she realized that there still is nobody she can talk to. She didn’t want to just feel the snow, she wanted to see it. She didn’t want to just listen to joy, she wanted to see it. She didn’t just want to taste Winter on her tongue, she wanted to see Winter with her eyes.

She stood up. walked into her apartment, and wanted nothing more than to sleep without dreams. She didn’t want to see dreams, she wanted to see reality, and she was going to try.

She took a few pills, of what she had no idea, but it was a mix of painkillers and drowsy allergy medicine. She filled up her bath tub with hot water, and sat. She waited. She wanted to sleep without dreams. Her mind start wandering, she started to see stars, then bright lights, and then a closing of curtains.

This was not an intermission.