The Dark World

The Dark World

A Story by Omegax45
"

A man blinded by an accident. A woman finding her lost friend once more in his time of need. The gossip that tells the tale.

"

The Dark World

By Omegax45

 

 

 A simple drive.  Yeah, that's what it was.

He had driven this road many times since his youth.  He could do it blindfold, he once joked.  People told him not to joke about it again.  The road was narrow with many curves and it was situated on a cliff’s side.  One false move, and he would fall into the ocean below.  He promised not to joke about it anymore, but he would boast when one asked him about the road.

 He loved that road.  As a child, he would ride his bike down it to watch the sunrise as he headed to school.  His mother would scold him, but he did not care.  His friends would join him as they returned home, watching the sun set and the boats return to harbor.  Without street lamps, they could also see the stars at night and point out the constellations.  He would even walk with his dates down that road on such nights, the scenery making the dates feel more…magical.   As an adult, he would drive down the road to visit his parents whenever he had the chance.  They told him to take the road in the forest instead, but he declined with such as excuses as ‘it takes too long’ or ‘bears would eat his car’.  He assured them that he would be careful.  He always kept his word.

 Trucks were not allowed on that road.  There were signs that stated so.  However, the police didn’t patrol the road.  They could not have known of the truck driver that was in a hurry.  That he ignored the signs to make his delivery.  That nearly hit the bright silver car whose headlights blinded his vision for a moment.  That heard tires swerving and metal crashing, but chose to ignore it and call and ambulance as a courtesy.  That he did not give his name and hung up before he could be traced.  That did not look back as he drove away.

 They said he would fall into the ocean.  He hit the wall of the cliff instead.

He no longer loved that road.

* * * *

 “Hey!  Have you heard, Cynthia?”

“No, Laurie.  I’ve been too busy with my patients.”

 “The guy in Room 670.  You know, the one that crashed into the cliff wall of Vincent Avenue the other night?”

 “The Kill-Cross Street?  Why would someone be dumb enough to drive down that, and at night even?  Everyone knows that trucks use that street despite the fact that they’re not suppose to.”

 “Well, I found out he’s a celebrity from our hometown.  It’s Max Cloud!”

“Max Cloud?  No way! It would explain why he’s in the private suites, but why would Max Cloud, world famous artist, be driving that road?”

 “I know it’s hard to tell because of the bandages on his face, but I saw his file.  It’s really him!”

 “Don’t you be going off to sneak autographs, Laurie.  Do you want Head Nurse Patsy after you again?”

 “I really want to, but his fiancée is preventing anyone but the doctors to see him.”

“Yulianna Saikano?  Yeah, I would not want to mess with her.  That actress has more bodyguards than we do security.”

 “I’m surprised that she’s even here.  I heard that she only dates men with perfect bodies and high status.”

 “Maybe it’s love.”

“I don’t think so.  She’s got a list of ex-boyfriends a mile long.”

 “It’s none of our business anyway.  Don’t you have patients to tend to?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

* * * *

 Yulianna was talking again.  The doctors have told then that he was lucky to not be in a coma.  He sure wished that he was, just to escape her nagging voice.

 What did he ever saw in her to begin with?  There were hundreds of other women he could’ve chosen, including...No, he would not think about that.  He could only assume that he chose her for her looks and that every other man wanted her.  Damn his ego.  She was a harlot from the start, mooching away at his money despite the fact she had and made more than him.  Had it not been for his art shows being more than on occasion, he would’ve been into debt thrice by now.

 The doctor said he was lucky.  The air bag and windshield kept his head from colliding into the stone wall.  He should’ve wore a seatbelt to prevent further damage from the broken glass that was once his windshield, which cut into his face and hands and left minor damage that would scar in time.  Yulianna wanted him to have cosmetic surgery to remove the scars.  His legs didn’t break when the front of the car pressed inward by the crash, but he had to try walking first before they can tell if there was any damage.  That left his head.  He didn’t suffer from a concussion, but there was still a problem.  His eyes.  He couldn’t see.

 Yulianna had waited patiently for the results of his eye examinations.  Sight was one of the most important tools in the art world.  To mix colors right, to add that right amount of shade.  Without sight, he was done for as an artist.  An MRI and a CAT scan confirmed their worst fears.  His retinas became detached as a result from the whiplash he suffered from the accident.  They were too deep to reattach safely by surgical means.  The only way was to either wait for medical science to advance more, or for the retinas to reattach themselves.  In short, he needed a miracle.

 The doctor left afterwards to tend to his other patients.  Smart move.  Yulianna had a fit and started talking about finding another doctor to help him.  He had enough, and told her so.  All he wanted to do now was sleep and have her leave.  She complained, but did as told.  He hoped that she took her bodyguards with her.  He wanted to have his parents visit him soon.  He was certain that his mother was about to have a heart attack worrying about him and his father was stressed trying to keep her calm while hiding his won fears about his son.  He’ll deal with their anger as well when they come.

 Right now, a nap sounded good.

* * * *

 “Hey Krystal.  Didn’t you date Max Cloud back in high school?”

“Nah.  We were childhood friends.  I would’ve asked him out, but I was too shy back then and he had the entire cheerleader squad after him.  Why do you ask, Rachel?”

 “Because I heard that he was in an accident while driving on Vincent Avenue! He’s at Dresdent Hospital right now!”

“I know. I saw it on the news.  I tried to go see him, but these goons wouldn’t let me in.  They wouldn’t let Mr. or Mrs. Cloud go in either.  Can you believe that?”

 “They’re his parents!  That b***h Yulianna has no right to deny them their right to visit their son!  She’s taking this too far!”

 “Are you sure that it was her that set up the goons?  For all we know, Max set them up himself.  His statement claimed that a truck driver ran him into the cliff wall.”

 “We all know that trucks drive down Vincent Avenue at night without permission from the city.  Unless Max knows the plate number or had a good look at the driver himself, there’s no reason for him to be paranoid.”

 “Speaking of the devil, look at the TV.”

Pause.

 “Well I’ll be damned.  Guess you can go see him now Krystal.”

“I guess so.”

* * * *

 It finally happened.  Yulianna has added him to her list of ex-boyfriends.  He didn’t care.  Good riddance to the b***h.

 It happened shortly after she talked to several doctors, specialists, and a few ‘friends’ from outside the country.  None of them would operate on him, and she wasn’t going to ‘nurse a handicap’ for the rest of her life, nor pay for his healthcare.  She dismissed her bodyguards and left.  Within moments, the news on the television in his room was broadcasting the break up, Yulianna claiming that he broke up with her and made up some sad story.  He heard the nurses calling for security.  He didn’t ask why.  He didn’t care.

 His parents came to visit him.  His mother was crying and his father sounded grateful that he was still alive.  They told him that they will support him no matter what.  He was grateful for that.  His agent came by after his parents left.  The next show would be postponed until he was well again and ready to face the public.  She would look into any visual aids that would help him continue his career, but she warned him to not get his hopes up.  Very few blind people make it as artists, and most have very short careers.  His next show may very well be his last.  She would also look into a new profession for him.  He thanked her and she left.

 One he was alone again, his thoughts began to plague him.  The bandages around his eyes were off, but all he saw was darkness, a never-ending wall of black.  He had tolerated it when his family and agent were with him.  It reminded him of times in his youth when he hid in his closet to escape his angry mother for stealing cookies before dinner.  It was so dark in there that he couldn’t see his hands in front of his face.  He hid a flashlight in there for him to see…

There was no flashlight here.  Rather, no flashlight would be able to cut through this darkness.  No door for him to open and let in the light.  He was trapped.  The door, if there was one, was locked and no one has the key.  Fear began to fill him, coating his insides with ice.  Painful ice.  He was helpless now.  He would need help to walk.  He would need someone to drive for him, shop for him, cook his meals, and pick out his clothes.  He would have to learn Brail and walk with a stick.  He was allergic to dogs, so a Seeing Guide Dog was out of the question.  Everything will have to be labeled and organized in a way that he would be able to remember where everything was.  Worst, jobs for the blind and hard to come by, and painting was his life.  If he can’t work, his savings will be drained quickly.  He couldn’t impose on his parents, who were retired, and he was certain that all of his ‘friends’ have left with Yulianna.  He was all alone.

 His eyes burned with tears as he bit his lip to stifle any noises from his throat.  He was a man, damn it!  He will not cry!  He will just find another means to live on his own without imposing on anyone.  His throat became dry and constricted and he reached for a cup of water.  His fingers only felt empty air as he searched, becoming desperate as he sought with both hands now.  His fingertips brushed against something cool that moved away from him.  He heard something slip and jumped when he felt his bed sheets suddenly become cold and wet…something bouncing on the mattress before it hit the floor and rolled away.

 He couldn’t help it.  His tears finally slid down his cheeks as the last of his pride dispersed like grains of sand in the wind.  He buried his face in hands he could not see, but were his own.  He was scared. He can’t paint.  He can’t drive.  Hell, he couldn’t even pick up a glass of water!  Somebody.  Somebody help him!  Turn back time and tell himself not to drive down that road.  To not drive at all that night!

 Someone, please.  Tell him that everything will be alright.  He didn’t care if they lie, just please...someone…

 He heard someone come in, but didn’t have the strength to compose himself.  He didn’t care if it was a nurse or a crazed fan.  They couldn’t free him from his dark prison.

Then he heard it.  A soft voice.  It penetrated through the darkness and his despair.  A voice he had not heard in so long.  A voice he could never forget.  It couldn’t be…

 A soft hand touched his own.  It brought warmth to his icy body, warmth that began to melt the ice against his denial of who it was.  The hand led his to warm skin, and his fingertips traced an outline that his imagination began to draw.  Soft hair that was long, unblemished cheeks that felt slightly round, full lips that seem to desire to be kissed, long lashes that felt like soft feathers.  It’s her.

 With a cry, he reached forward and buried his head into a soft cloth that had to be her shirt, crying out all of his fears as he became aware of her scent.  She soothed him.  Rubbing his back and saying soft nothings.  She was here for him.  She would always be here for him.

 Since the accident, he felt that things will be alright.

* * * *

 “It did it!”

“Did what, Laurie?”

 “I got transferred to the private suites next week!  I will be able to see Max Cloud without Pesky Patsy to worry about!”

 “Hate to break it to you, but Max Cloud left the hospital two weeks ago.”

“What?  No!  Why?!  How do you know?!”

 “I was assigned there last week.  Someone new is in his old room.”

“Aw man!  I had to pull a lot of strings to get this!  Why didn’t you tell me?!”

 “You didn’t ask.  Besides, I heard that he has a new girlfriend now, so you’re out of luck.”

 “A new girlfriend?  This fast?  Who is she?”

“I don’t know.  An old childhood friend, I guess.”

 “Damn it all!  All the good men are taken!”

“You’ll find someone someday.  Your job, however, may be in jeopardy if you’re late again.”

 “Aw crap!  Pesky Patsy’s gonna have my head if I’m late again!”

“You better hurry.”

* * * *

It was quite nice to have someone living with him again.  Someone that didn’t nag him over every little thing.

 As it turned out, Krystal was a certified nurse that worked with homebound patients.  Because they knew each other, her boss had assigned her to him.  He insisted that she lived with him.  She did for the first few weeks to teach him how to live in his house and tell where everything was before she declared her need to spend time for herself at her apartment…alone.  She would be with him during the day, but gone at night.  He was alright with her wishes.

 His agent found a teacher that would teach him Brail at his house.  He would meet with the teacher four times a week.  He had to learn the alphabet first, then the numbers.  He slowly began to read words as his fingers brushed against the numerous bumps on the paper.  He bought a printer that prints in Brail and a program that tells him what he is typing on the computer or what his mouse was pointing at.  Krystal kept the house clean and placed labels on items so he knew what they were.  Within two months, he had memorized everything.

 His art show was a mere week away, but he had his projects done before the accident, so he was not worried.  What was bothering him, however, was what to do with his life now.  His savings have been halved by his medical bills and his new purchases, but his show will fill them back up again.  He could try painting again, but he wasn’t sure if he can make a masterpiece like before.  He would just have to wait for inspiration to hit him before trying.

 He was watching television one night, flipping through the channels and being bored.  Although he only saw darkness, his sense of hearing had become stronger and he found himself listening to music more often.  It was annoying when he was trying to sleep and he could make out crickets singing at night.  Singing loudly.  He had never been more grateful for classical music.  He stopped for a moment on a channel and was about to get up for a drink when he heard a family thanking someone for remodeling   He stopped and listened.  The family had two blind children and they were raising funds to help others with blind children, but their house was not built to handle blind children and posed a threat to their safety with high ledges and stairs to their bedrooms.  The man, a contractor, heard of their story and offered to remodel their house for free, making it safe for the children.  As an added bonus, the contractor had added special scanner guns and U.P.C. labels on different areas in the house.  The children scanned the items, and the scanner gun tells them what it is with a computerized voice. 

 He then felt inspiration hit him.  He would dedicate his next show to the blind and raise funds to help blind children in school.  He would finally do something in his life that would benefit others, and help him with his own handicaps.

 He headed to his studio and took out a blank canvas.  Feeling for his paints, he found one color and pours it onto his palette and dips a brush in.  He lifts the brush to the canvas, but pauses.  What was he going to paint?  He had done numerous paintings of wildlife and landscapes, but that was overly done already by other artists.  He could do a person, but he would need a model...and a description of him or her.  He knew that the paint he opened up was red, but what would work with red?  What could he paint with red?

He had dropped the brush, not caring if paint flicked onto his clothes.  What was he doing?  He felt like an idiot, copying someone else’ idea for his own.  How can he do something so…dishonest?  No, that wasn’t the word.  It was... damn it, he couldn’t find the word! 

 He heard the door open and knew instantly it was Krystal, but he didn’t have the strength to greet her.  He had wasted the night away in his anger and despair, taking it out on his canvas and the red paint.  He didn’t need to see her shocked expression, he could literally feel it upon him.  She didn’t ask why, and he was grateful for that.  He simply told her in a broken whisper, hoping that she may have an answer as to what he should do.

 Krystal led him out of the studio and helped him clean up.  Her hands were so gentle upon him, he could’ve fallen asleep.  She led him back to the living room and turned on the news while she went to cook him breakfast.  The smell coming from the kitchen was beyond words, making his mouth water.  She set up the kitchen table and he sat down, thanking her for the meal.  They ate in silence, and he was able to realize that he just overreacted last night.  He felt so stupid, and for Krystal to see him like that...

 He heard her say something suddenly.  He was so lost in his thoughts, that he did not hear her at first.  He looked in the direction of her voice, showing her that she had his attention.

* * * *

 “I heard your client has found his second wind, Trish.”

“I knew he would, John.  Even when things are at their worst, Max Cloud always finds a way to be on top.  This time, however, he had help.”

  “By you, you mean?”

“I only help a little bit.  This time, his new muse pulled him out of the pit of despair.  This one may be a keeper, and a love story in the making.”

 “A new muse?  May I ask who?”

“A childhood friend.  Turned out she was one very one that got away from him so long ago.  Anyway, his last art show was a hit, but this one shows a lot of promise to be the best he ever had.”

 “And he’s donating half of the funds to the School of the Blind, right?  This will give some good rep to this business.  Just make sure he doesn’t make an a*s of himself.  You know how touchy these disabled people are.”

 “I assure you, John.  Max won’t disappoint you.  Has he ever?”

“When he started dating Yulianna Saikano.”

 “She’s history.  No need to worry about her.”

* * * *

The clock’s voice stated it was December, eight months since the accident.  He had three art shows since then, and even tried his hand at sculpting.  Everyone liked his works, and he received several cards from the children of the schools he donated to.  One stated that their school was able to finally buy updated software for their computers and new Brail books.  He was glad.

 Krystal became close to him, but they were taking their relationship slow.  He didn’t want to rush like with Yulianna.  She decided to ask him out after he accidentally kissed her while she was helping him with one of his works.  They were awkward at first, unsure of what to do, but then decided dating may help.  Her boss had relieved her of her duties, so they didn’t have to worry about her losing her job.  Dating a client was against the rules, after all.

 That was five months ago.  He had never been happier.  He could win the Noble Peace Prize or the World’s Greatest Artist Award, and they would never come close.  Krystal was everything he would ever need in life.  She is his love.  She is his muse.  She is the rock he holds onto when things turn bad.  He could never let her go.  He would die if she left his life again.

 He had never told her how he felt.  He was so shy, and the other girls were after him back in high school.  He had feared what they would do to her if he tried to date Krystal, so he never asked her to be his girlfriend.  He had no need to worry about that now.  All that was left now was tonight.

 He and Krystal went to the movies.  There was a movie she wanted to see for so long, and he decided to take her.  Although he couldn’t see the screen, and the speakers were very loud, he had enjoyed the background music and the plot.  He had also enjoyed being close to his love, who laid her head upon his shoulder and held his hand throughout the whole movie.  They were not hungry enough to go out for dinner, so they simply walked on the harbor.  He could tell that she enjoyed the view, and he enjoyed the sound of the lapping waves.  He was nervous, but took his chance.

 He stopped Krystal from walking and called upon his courage.  He whispered into her ear.  She stepped back, and he prepared himself for rejection.  Instead, he felt her lips upon his in a kiss, then her mouthing a single word.

* * * *

 “It seems that Krystal finally got the man.”

“Seems so, Sara.”

 “Guess we’ll need a new nurse soon.”

“We got applications already, but I don’t think Krystal will quit yet.  Wait until they have their first child.”

 “Say, I heard that Yulianna Saikano tried to get back with Max Cloud.  I thought the rumor sounded crazy, since she’s already married to that big shot actor.”

 “I heard so too, Rachel.  The media is probably spinning tales.  You know, adding drama and suspense to their story.”

 “Anyway, wanna go shop for their wedding gifts after work?”

“You bet.  This way, we won’t end up getting the same gift.”

 “That would be a disaster.”

 

The End

© 2011 Omegax45


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Omegax45
I hope you enjoy it.

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Added on January 21, 2011
Last Updated on January 21, 2011
Tags: romance, short story, fiction

Author

Omegax45
Omegax45

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About
I have published my second book in the series after three years: Hell's Detective: Lust. It is available now on Amazon Kindle and soon to be available as a paperback. more..

Writing
Chapter 1 Chapter 1

A Chapter by Omegax45


Chapter 2 Chapter 2

A Chapter by Omegax45


Chapter 3 Chapter 3

A Chapter by Omegax45