No Sense of Seeing
Silence, that's all that surrounds me right now. Silence fills my ears deafening me to the point of driving me crazy. I never thought I'd die this way; drowned by the noiseless room. Is that even possible? To be murdered by the quiet? I don't know, and to be honest, I don't want to be around long enough to find out.
It shouldn't be so quiet. Someone speak and put me out of my misery. My eyes are shut tight; they refuse to open so long as the atmosphere is so still. I know where I am, even though I can't see anything and I can't hear anything. I'm sitting in a plush chair, the arm rest digging into my sides creating this annoying pain, but I don't move. I know there's a large desk in the corner about a foot away from me; I felt it when I stepped in through the door. I'm not sure of the color; I was too embarrassed to check. A person led me to this chair and sat me down. I know why I am here, but I can't believe it. I should not be in this chair.
The silence continues to stretch; I swear they've put me into a sound proof room now.
Then it comes; sound, a noise. Something breaks through the silence that has built itself around me, pulling me out. The sound is footsteps growing louder and closer. I don't know who it is, but I do know it's a female. Her small heels click against the tiled floor lightly.
"Mr Mellidy, she's ready for you. It's a girl." A girl, a daughter. All the air empties from my lungs. I feel hands around my forearm helping me up, but I shake the pestering nurse off of me. "Please, let me help you to her room," she pleads.
"I can make it on my own," I tell her sternly before moving in the same direction I heard her come from. I can hear high pitched crying, so I follow it.
It brings me to a doorway, an opening that I trudge through trying to avoid hitting anything.
"Henri, come, come," my girlfriend, Amy, says. She tugs at my hand, guiding me to the bed. A wiggling figure lay wrapped in her arms.
"She's beautiful Henri," she coos. A lump of emotion clogs my through as I listen to her words.
"How is she? Is she healthy?" My concern taking over.
"Yes Henri. The doctor said she's perfectly healthy." I nod slowly, grateful for this news.
"Do you want to hold her?" I shake my head.
"I might drop her." Amy doesn't let me wiggle out of this so easily.
"Trust yourself, Henri," she says gently as I feel the tiny weight of my newly born daughter in my shaking arms now. I can't help myself; tears begin to drizzle down my cheeks.
"What kind of father will I be?" I ask ashamed.
"An amazing one." I shake my head again, "what kind of father can't even see their own daughter. No girl wants a blind father." I hand my daughter back to Amy, grab my seeing stick and leave the hospital.
Hello, I am Henri Mellidy. I am seventeen years old and I am blind.