Romans & histoires I Was Quiet But I Was Not Blind

I said quietly. I always had my brother but after our parents died, it felt like I was alone because I was struggling with being blind, trying to wrap my mind around how my life was currently playing out. It was difficult to imagine I had survived it all. “So have I.” “I’m not good at this.” “Neither am I.” My hand found his shirt, fingers curling in the fabric just to prove he was still there. “You’re too close,” I whispered. “You want me to back off?”

Or that is what he said, "He isn't blind... but blind at the same time... he is blindly in love." He said. Blindly in love?… Can you fall in love again? I think I just did. ——

No answer came, only the sound of her calm breathing and my own gasping sobs. I was blind.

I stood there, frozen, the silence louder than ever. This wasn’t over. Not even close.

A flash of it, burning in my irises before fading. I whispered into the silence: “You’re still here.” But the words no longer sounded like a plea. They sounded like a promise.

“Then everyone loses. Him. You. Your sweet stepmother. And when the dust settles, no one will even remember your name.” The mist outside thickened, blurring the glass. Somewhere behind Lucy, a sound echoed a faint click, like a door shutting. And she realized with a cold twist in her gut: they weren’t alone in here.

There are days when I wonder what the world around me looks like, what the prey I eat looks like, I even wonder what my mate looks like but I'll never ask because I know that although I am blind and most likely odd looking I will never stand alone. For I am blinded but not deaf, I am blinded but not alone, I am blinded and I will always have a place within this world.

I was about to shrug it of, possibly my mind playing tricks on me from the constant silence but just as I was about to close my eyes again, I saw it. reject the bond for your own good was written in bold…

I said and both girls went quiet, too quiet that It made me realize that I had spoken outloud and I was loud! Fuck me!.

The lantern trees swayed softly around us while distant melodies drifted through the stars. He looked older than the child I remembered. Lonelier too. But beneath the grief and shadows— there he was. The frightened little boy who once covered his ears whenever the Silence whispered too loudly. “You remember me,” he whispered. Not confidence. Disbelief. Oh, my sweet child. I held him tighter immediately. “I never stopped.” The Quiet Stars flared brighter across the horizon. Below us, far beyond the lantern veil, the city shimmered softly in the distance. Watching. Listening.