Without Sight

            “Jane!” the youthful voice wailed at me, “I want to go!”  Monica wasn’t born blind.  She was just like any other four year old, playing with dolls in the backseat of a minivan, pounding on the car seat with her tiny fists, and squealing so loud that her mother could barely keep her eyes on the road.

            Then came the time where it was just another autumn day filled with angry drivers and afternoon traffic on the interstate.  Except this time, the stress on that weak automobile was just too much and it gave up, causing a chain reaction of shattering vehicles behind them. Glass from the windows was whipped and found itself landing on the frail figure of the innocent four year old girl.

            Two days after the heartbreaking incident, the doctors discovered that poor little Monica will not be able to see again and her mother was just too mentally unstable to watch over her.  From that point on I, at the tender age of 18, became her legal guardian.

            It’s been only two years since Monica had use of her eyes.  She would have been waltzing into her kindergarten class last year if I wasn’t so concerned about how fellow students would treat her.

            “Jane, come on! I wanna go to school.  I wanna meet other girls.  I wanna go!” howled the impatient little girl using her prominent lisp.

            “I’m coming Ms. Whineypants.  I have to get ready too you know,” I chuckled, trying to not let my exhaustion show.   

             Hastily, I strode down the stairs, skipping steps every once in a while. I was supposed to go to the Julliard College this year to major in drama, but responsibility hit, causing me to take on a motherly role instead of fulfilling my dreams. Reality is cruel.

            At the very first orientation for Monica’s elementary school, questioning glares were shot at me from all corners, making me feel like a bug being inspected underneath a glass cup.  Realization finally hit me; no one will take me seriously while I still look like a trouble making teenager.  From that point on, my hair remained its natural chestnut brown color instead of an eccentric purple and the tattoos from my rebellious phase were covered with long sleeves.  I hated it.

            I sighed and handed her pink monogrammed tote bag and her cane.  “I wouldn’t want you to forget your book bag on the first day, Mony.”  She turned her wide, brown eyes towards me and giggled at her nickname.

            “Am I ready?” she grinned, twirling a piece of fabric from her dress between her fingers.

            “Yes Darling.  Just remember to use your cane and stay near the teacher at all times, okay?” 

            She nodded and grabbed onto my pant leg with that childish pouty face plastered across her features.

            “Jane,” she whispered “what does the world look like.  I don’t want to be the only one who doesn’t know.” 

            I’ve never been good at answering questions, especially when I’m caught off guard.  How do you answer a question so broad?  The world is so large, filled with smog and crime that emphasizing beauty is harder than recognizing the unpleasant things.

            I cleared my throat and tried to think back to when I was younger, with a wilder imagination and brighter view of the world. “In the fall, beautiful leaves of green crinkle into shades of orange and brown, covering the fading grass in their warm colors.  The branches on trees begin to tremble along with the wind, just like you do when you get cold.”  I offered a slight smile and drew her into my lap. 

            “Then in the winter, all those leaves are gone and they are covered by a soft, white blanket.  You used to hate the color of the sky during that season.  You always said that it was too gray and gloomy.  Spring is the most beautiful season, I think.  That’s when all of the pretty flowers bloom and show their colorful petals.  Grandma always plucked the dandelions from the grass and placed them behind your ear.  Each time the wind blew, the feathery, white seeds would get all tangled up in your hair.”

            “After that is summer, when the sun burns brighter and your hair becomes lighter.  When the neighborhood pool opens, everyone, young or old, comes rushing into the murky water wearing their swimsuits.”

            Monica seemed to be satisfied with my response, but then she turned to me and sulked. 

            “I want to see those things.  I want to see the dandelions and the orange leaves.  Can you help me see them?”  More than anything, I wanted to go back in time and protect her poor, little eyes during the accident and let her see the world for herself, but I knew that I couldn’t. No matter how hard I hoped and prayed, my little Mony will never retrieve her eyesight.  I just couldn’t say no that childish, hopeful look that was etched across her face.

            “Mony, as much as I want you to, you just can’t use your eyes, but if you concentrate enough, you can still see.  In the fall, you can feel the leaves crumble beneath your finger tips and imagine the red pieces falling onto the ground.  Then in the colder weather, you can hear the sound of snowflakes hitting the roof, signifying that school will be closed for another day.  The fragrance of daisies in the spring and chlorine in the summer will be enough for your mind to picture the scenery.”

            Monica was very hesitant to respond, obviously comprehending the meaning of my words. “So,” she deliberated, “I can see without sight?” I nodded as she jumped out of my lap and tugged on my hand.

            “Then, I can’t wait to see my school.  Come on!” she exclaimed. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her youthful eagerness and determination, especially when she was in a situation like this.

            As I pulled up my laptop that afternoon and groaned at the sight of my responsibilities for the future, I began to long for the hope that was bottled up inside the girl who could see without sight.

Author's Note

Prompt: #7: (1ST PoV) You meet a blind person and they ask you to describe the world to them.
Please give me advice on how to improve and let me know how I did.