Runaway Bride

I wake up with heavy eyes. Gloom surrounds me, and darkness apparently takes control of my vision. I stir, uncomfortable, imprisoned, and immobile in the bed where I am. Attempting to sit up, my body screams at me to stop, aching and pitiful. I grunt with annoyance at being unable to sit up as I always have.

“Easy, brother, take it easy. It’s going to be all right. You’ve been asleep for a long time, it’s only fair you feel a little dizzy.” It’s Dawson who positions himself next to me.

“What happened?” I question.

My brother helps me sit up in bed with my back half straightened. He shakes out the pillow and places it behind me in a smooth, gentle motion.

“You had the surgery, but the important thing is that you’re okay. That’s what matters to me.” I hear the creak of the chair as he sits down.

My eyes are heavy, and my head is throbbing.

“Twin intuition, perhaps? Or maybe you’re worried about nonsense and simpletons?”

“Good morning,” they interrupt just as I go to answer Dawson. “I see you’re awake already.” David reaches over to open my eyelids and shine a flashlight on them.

I’m still dozing. However, something detonates in my brain. Confused, I analyze the situation. I don’t see the light. The glow of the flashlight doesn’t bother me, burn, or cause me to want to look away.

When Dawson rearranged the pillow, I heard it, felt it, as I was close enough to do so. I recognized their voices, both Dawson’s and David’s... but I didn’t see them. At no time did I see them.

“But what...?” I slap David’s hand and hear the flashlight fall to the tile in the room with a clatter.

I touch my face, startled.

over my eyes, one of those used after

safety reasons, a bandage would be placed on my head, which would go from the

were a ton of cement dropped on it by a construction truck. I begin to feel dizzy and off-center. I blink, annoyed and uncomfortable, to find a way for the shadow and gloom to leave my vision. Nothing happens. I continue

you are in the clinic, both in observation and in a basic room. Nothing will

noticed that I couldn’t

see me?” he inquires between confused and

How come you can’t see? Is that normal?” asks

feel it. I know he is there, and I don’t need my eyes to make his presence

see this?” He opens my eyelids again and searches for something I can’t

I see nothing, nothing more than a flow

when David, with the surgical mask on his face, covering his nose and mouth, looked at me and told me that they were going to proceed to place

not been detected in time. She committed suicide. And I tried to reach her clumsily, but I failed. She fell from the second floor, and the back of her head landed on one of the rocks that adorned the garden I had sent her to plant.

Am I going to stay like this?” I ask, on

long ago was the

He would look at me lovingly

you for the first twenty-four

the hell is going on. Is this part of the process? Of recovery? Or have I lost my sight for good? You better be

I think you need to calm down.” My brother

see anything! I have a son! How am I supposed to watch him grow up? How am I supposed to hold him before he falls to the ground when he trips over his feet? How am

part of the risks I told you about before scheduling an appointment for surgery. I warned you that something like this could happen. The good thing is that, for