Chapter 1

The beauty of the world once seemed dazzling. She had seen it before, but the girl no longer sees it now. The world is not unfair, yet there are things far beyond human control.

Since all she now knows is darkness, she has lost her hope of finding her own light. Who would not lose hope when every person and thing that mattered to her is already gone?

The only thing left is the wound of yesterday. She was sixteen when she lost her sight; it has been almost five years since the plane crash happened. The girl lives under her uncle’s roof, who treats her like a servant even though she cannot see the world around her. Each morning she wakes, groping for every object within her reach.

Every day she rises to serve her uncle’s family—first his wife, then their only child—and afterward she grasps her walking stick to go to her flower shop, the one place she treasures most.

The girl is unsure if the song about the blind, mute, and deaf is true—that they bear no guilt and owe nothing to the people around them. Despite her disability, she functions well.

Yes, she has no eyesight, but she has her other senses. She achieves more than some people with perfect vision. “Useless woman! Erin! Get up now! Cook for us! You’ll get sick again living off us!” The girl flinched at the thought of hearing her uncle’s voice.

Nothing has changed—it is the same every morning. They cannot eat unless she cooks and cannot move unless she cleans and washes. Sometimes she wonders, who among them is truly blind?

“You worthless brat! Hurry up so you can start working!” She only quickened her pace to grab the stick, avoiding the trip back to her room. She knows the whole house by heart; by touch or scent, she always knows where she is.

When she reached the stairs, her uncle greeted her with a hard smack to the head, followed by a slap from his wife. “Blind and useless! Damn you, Armando, you brought in another mouth to feed, and she’s worth nothing.” The girl stayed silent, wishing her parents were still here so none of this would happen.

“My love, you know we spend her money, so don’t be angry,” her uncle soothed his wife. They were using her money—the inheritance from her parents. They could never take it all, for they needed her signature, which she would never give.

They only received a monthly allowance, and the flower shop was among her properties, though they boasted it as theirs. “Don’t talk to me! Hey, stupid blind girl! Cook now!” shouted her aunt.

She skipped fixing herself—pointless anyway. Feeling her way to the kitchen, she heard her uncle still calming his wife. Before she arrived, she tripped.

The girl knew exactly who it was but got up as if nothing happened; better that than becoming their target again. She heard them laugh, uncaring. No one cared for her but herself.

No one cares. No one. The laugh in front of her was irritating, yet she could do nothing. Even if she burned herself cooking, even if the house caught fire, they would not mind—perhaps they would even prefer it, just to be rid of her.

“Blind and slow! Hurry up, I still have school!” yelled her cousin Meryl. At times she wanted to ask if the girl was deaf or blind. She kept shouting even though she was just nearby. Sarcasm was the only shield she had—where was their common sense?

She pitied herself for being trapped with these people, yet she refused to let them take what her parents left her. She knew they would never allow her to simply leave; once she reached the door, they could stop her.

The world is cruel, and she is one of its victims. After cooking, they instantly grabbed the plate of fried eggs, hotdogs, and bacon. They sat at the table without inviting her. The house is hers, yet they invade it as though it were theirs.

They had driven out the helpers and even her nanny, who cared for her, leaving her with no ally. They finished the food without asking if she would eat.

“Wash those dishes before you go!” her uncle ordered as they left—likely for gambling, his wife off to socialize with “friends,” and her cousin to flaunt herself at school. The girl sighed and simply finished the chores before leaving.

She shut the door and began her slow walk. It took thirty minutes from her house to the flower shop. She had to walk that far so she would not lose her way no matter where she went.

It was exhausting, but it was alright. While walking, she could not escape the whispers and ridicule from those she passed, not even the teasing of children.

The world is merciless to the disabled; instead of helping, society drags them deeper into the mud. Could they not live as others do? Could they not act like normal people?

People are judgmental, especially in the Philippines—seeing only your flaws, not your good deeds. Yes, there are still kind-hearted people. Despite their differences, all share the same fate.

From the earth man came, and to the earth he will return. “That poor girl, blind and penniless, abandoned by her parents,” whispered a gossip, unaware of the truth.

“It’s a good thing Carmen and Armando are there; otherwise, who knows where that blind girl would end up?” In the eyes of others, the wicked seem saintly. That is society—unchangeable, growing worse by the day.

“They say that girl has no gratitude, lazy as ever.” She only walked faster, knowing nothing good would come from listening; it would only hurt her and prove she was worthless.

If only she were deaf, she would not hear their jeers. It was painful for her, feeling their eyes scan her from head to toe every day.

By counting her steps, she knew she was in front of her flower shop. She smiled freely. Here, this was her haven. Flowers were her favorite—their fresh scent, their sweet fragrance. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, hoping this day would be kind and tomorrow would truly be bright.