Black and Blue

22 - I'm Able to Laugh Sometimes

He carried me out of the forest when I was ready, and trust me, that took a long time to happen. I felt like I was about to drown, I couldn't stop gasping for breath. He had to keep hugging and assuring me, "I'm here," and I didn't have the guts to say, "So fucking what if you're here? I just lost my sight." I knew he was trying his best. And I knew that nobody's best was going to be enough for a while. So I let him carry me out, cutting the chokes and sobs down to one per minute for both of our sakes.

I wanted to wrap my arms around his shoulders to support myself, but couldn't get my arms to reach high enough. So I resorted to clinging weakly to a small part of his hoodie, closing my eyes and burying my face as often as I could. He clearly wasn't taking a regular path out, otherwise he would have made a good few turns on the way. He was walking straight through the trees, maybe some even disappeared when he got too close just to clear the way. We didn't talk. We didn't even try. My head started to pound and my ears were ringing with an old song. I tightened my grip on his sweater.

Big girls don't cry.

"Uh, what are you doing...?"

I flinched as another voice came closer and closer to us—somebody I recognized from one of my classes. My mind started to race with terrible possibilities.

No, no, he shouldn't see me like this, if he tells any students or god forbid a professor I'm going to have to tell them I—

"She was lying unconscious on the forest floor. I'm bringing her back to her house, over on the other side of campus." Jack, bless his soul, tried to sound all noble and professional with this stranger, and I tugged on the patch of his sweater that I'd cried into.

"I'm not unconscious, Jack," I said, my voice barely able to carry, even in the quiet night air. "And you can put me down now. I can walk there myself."

"I'm not so sure about that. It's just a couple more minutes, let me take you home. I'll leave you alone after, if that's what you want."

"I'm gonna have to side with old...Nichols, isn't it?" The guy said, ever so oblivious. "Yeah, Leigh Pomerantz told me about you. Listen, if you want to party more, best do it in your own room. It's getting pretty late, and you don't look like you'd get very far walking anywhere."

I would've laughed at this another time, but somebody mistaking me for a drunk partygoer didn't seem as funny to me right now. He said it with all the confidence a fraternity guy could muster from his soul—and his little comment of "Leigh told me about you" didn't hit me so great, either. I mouthed "yeah" and nodded, making sure my eyes fell half-closed to sell the image. Might as well have gone along with it.

"See, somebody here's making sense. You need sleep, trust me." Jack took a step sideways like he was making to go, when the other guy started talking again.

"Where'd you two come from, anyway? Costume party? Your makeup is fucking sick, let me tell you that."

"What do you—" Jack paused when he realized that sick was supposed to mean good. "Oh. Um, yeah, thanks. We should probably go. Bye." The words came out rushed and a bit choppy, but the other guy didn't seem to notice.

"Take care of yourselves, yeah? Stay safe," he called.

"Will do," Jack muttered, sounding just a tiny bit annoyed. Despite myself, I singsonged, "theatre kid..." and could feel him shake his head.

"You humans are impossible."

"Yeah, we know."

—

I took a sick week.

Strangely enough, the first thing that came to my mind after waking up from my 12-hour power nap was to email my professors and tell them I wouldn't be able to make it to class. For how long, I had no idea, but I told them a week. Those emails were the most I communicated with anyone for a good few days, the rest of my time being spent wandering my house with a hand on the wall at all times to keep me steady. My head would snap up at the slightest noise, my hands flinching away from anything that brushed my skin when I didn't expect it. I quickly realized blindness could turn your life into a nightmare; I relied so heavily on how much I saw, hell, that was what my entire career had been built upon. And now my life's work was all for nothing.