Visionless

Prologue

I remember it well... too well if you ask me.

12 years ago. January 28, 2004. Seven days before my 7th birthday. Something happened that I'll never forget forever.

"Juno? Dear?" I remember how clear my mother's voice was that day. "Don't come too near the window. They're still constructing it. The falling dust might ruin your white polo shirt."

"Yes, mom," I told her. I was outside our house which was currently under renovation. It was almost complete. The last piece to be added was the gigantic glass window in the middle.

I had always admired good design and architecture when I was a kid; the new paint colors of our house, the mid-century style, the intricate detailing. I admired everything. I was a very curious child.

So when I heard the news that Dad wanted our Manila house renovated, I really got excited. I traded playtime with the other kids from the subdivision just to watch the beautiful process of transformation.

"Son?" I heard my mother's voice again, louder this time. "Get in the car! Your dad and I will be coming out in a sec."

It was a Sunday and we were going to church, as usual. We always go to church as a family.

"Yes, mom!" but I didn't obey her right away. My eyes were still glued to the window being installed on the second floor of the house. Three construction workers were placing the thirty-foot wide glass on the window pane. The design of the glass was an intricately made mosaic inspired by Van Gogh's magnum opus.

I was young and curious. I decided to look closer. I stepped a little bit forward, almost parallel to the window. Curiosity made the most out of my decision.

The decision that changed my life forever.

After a while, the workers successfully placed the glass in its desired position. They started to seal its corners, working down to all the sides. The window was almost complete. It looked perfect. A beautiful centerpiece of an equally beautiful house.

I was so mesmerized by the process that I didn't see the baseball flying behind me.

Gladly, the ball didn't hit me.

It hit the window.

Everything happened so fast. One moment, the glass window was perfectly still, pristinely in place. And then the next, all I saw was a million pieces of glass falling.

Down.

At me.

I heard the shrill scream of my mom echoed through the house, a sound I would never forget. I also heard the earsplitting sound of shards of glasses hitting the ground.

All I can do was stare.

A million colors filled my vision. Then, no color at all.