Into The Light

Into The Light

Prompt:  Imagine what it would be like to be blind.


         Hannah Stuart lay in the darkness of her tiny one bedroom condo waiting for morning to arrive.  She'd lain awake for hours, maybe most of the night, contemplating why she would even want to go on.

         Kicking back the sheets and heavy floral down comforter on her double bed, Hannah continued to lie there feeling the sweat evaporate from her naked frame as the coolness of the October morning air surrounded her.  She'd put off turning on the heat, even though Wisconsin could be quite chilly this time of year.  For the past three months, she'd been shelling out extra money for the numerous doctor's appointments necessary, since receiving the chilling diagnosis.

         "You're going blind, Hannah," her family doctor of thirty years had told her in a choked up voice, as his own sorrow over the devastating news threatened to overwhelm him.  She'd seen the tears of sadness about to overflow his kind, tired eyes. His words had thundered in her ears, echoing over and over like a record spinning round and round.

         Now, she was blind.  A cold and harsh fact, and no matter how she tried to come to grips with it, Hannah was beside herself with grief, the self pity threatened to drown her.  "Why?" she cried out to God over and over.

         The disillusioned young woman began to shiver from the cool air, but she remained prone staring up at where she knew the ceiling must be, seeming not to notice the goosebumps.  Since that fateful day, Hannah seemed to care little about anything or anyone; she just wanted to die.

         After a few moments she reached across her nightstand for the new Reizen Braille quartz alarm clock developed especially for the blind (given to her at the Minneapolis Center for the Blind).  She removed the clear plastic cover exposing the brailled numbers on the face, which made for tactile reading of time.

         "Oh my God!" Hannah lamented aloud.  It was nearly 10:00, and she'd lain there for hours awaiting the sunrise.  "Sunrise," she whispered faintly.  "I'll never see another sunrise!"  Painting sunrises is my passion.  If I can't paint, what is the purpose of my life? she thought as a fresh tear escaped and rolled down her cool, pale cheek.

         "I hate You! I hate You!"  she raged to God as she bolted upright in bed.  Now, her sorrow turned to uncontrolled sobs and she buried her head in her drawn up knees, her body shaking as she rocked back and forth.  "Why did You even create me?  Just for this?  What did I do wrong?" she screamed, her sobs now turning to out right wailing.  In pure rage she pounded the bed covers working herself into a frenzied state. 

         Somewhere in the distance, Hannah thought she heard a persistent rapping noise ... rap ... rap ... rap ... it grew  louder and more urgent.  Lifting her tear stained face, she emerged from her bewildered cocoon, aware that the sound was someone knocking on her door.  Swinging her bare legs over the side of the bed, she swiped her face with the back of her arm.  Groping for her robe, she felt the familiar satin edge, and her cold fingers snatched it up.  Trying to hurry, she wrapped it around her small waist and tied it snugly.  "I'm coming, I'm coming," she croaked, her voice sounding raspy.

         Trying to get to the door too fast, she tripped over some unknown object and falling forward, she slammed her right elbow into the foot board of her bed with an awful sounding crash.

         Bang! ... Bang! ... Bang!  "Are you okay in there?" someone yelled out from the other side of her front door.

         "Yeah, I think so," Hannah answered as she made her way cradling her sore arm.

         She stubbornly refused to use the blind cane they'd given her when her vision began to fade, so she cautiously moved forward with one arm outstretched, shuffling her feet like an old woman and hoping nothing else was placed in her path.  Rule Number One as they liked to say at the institute, a place for everything and everything in its place, she mimicked in her head.  Well, she was paying the price for disobeying that one now; her elbow was stinging, and she felt the coolness of her blood trickling down her forearm.

         Reaching the door, she undid the deadbolt and the newly installed latch her father insisted on.  She knew by the voice she'd heard It would be her neighbor, Shirley, who also lived in the physically challenged condominiums.

         "I was coming down to check on you, and I thought I heard you crying and then that awful thump," Shirley exclaimed.  "Are you sure you're okay, sweetie?" her voice filled with concern.

         "Yeah," Hannah muttered ashamed.  "I kind of didn't put things away too good and tripped over something," she offered.

         Making her way back to the bed and feeling around for the culprit of her wipe out, her hand landed on the rough canvas suitcase she'd yet to unpack.  "Oh, it was my darned suitcase," she said with a small chuckle trying not to show her sadness to her new friend.

         "I know what you're going through," Shirley said in a matter-of-fact tone.

         Hannah was about to say, how would you know, when she recalled something.  Over the course of the last few weeks, before totally losing her vision, she'd caught a few cloudy glimpses of her neighbor.  Shirley was a rather small woman, no more than five feet tall, and her spine and legs were twisted in an excruciating manner. She walked with two crutches that were attached to her forearms by pulling her legs forward in a series of jerky movements.  It was a heartbreaking sight to behold, but Shirley was determined to get wherever she was going.  Hannah remembered how she always seemed to be smiling too.  Shame over her own inability to deal with her ailment began to creep into her mind.

         "Everything will work out, Hannah.  I know it's hard now, because it's all so new to you.  And you are missing something that you used to have.  I was born this way, so I guess I never considered it to be anything but normal for me.  I've been using these crutches since I first learned to walk, and being blind myself, you should've seen some of the wrecks I was in," she said with a robust laugh.

         "Well, now I'm sure your okay, I'll let you get back to unpacking and settling in.  Say, why don't you come over to my place for dinner tonight? I make a mean pot of Beef Strogonoff!  We can play Scrabble, listen to some music or just talk if you want," Shirley said happily.

         "How can we play Scrabble?" Hannah scoffed.

         "Oh, I've got the Braille version, got cards and lots of other games too, and you're welcome to borrow them anytime," Shirley said.

         Hannah immediately felt remorse for having snapped at her neighbor, who was trying so hard to be helpful.  "You know what?  I'd love to come over for dinner tonight," Hannah told her.

         "Great! I'll come back down around six, and I'll teach you how to count the steps from here to my front door," Shirley said with enthusiasm.

         Closing the door, Hannah stood there a moment, reflecting on this amazing woman; her inner strength, her contagious optimism.  Slowly, a light, not one she could see, but an inner light, began to shine within Hannah's soul and she thought, If someone like that can not just survive, but be happy as well, then maybe I can too! Hope began to bloom in her heart. 

The End




   

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