In Her Eyes

Prologue

Prologue

                        Misha Abigail Wright                                                  December 23, 1989

Her parents lied between her in the hospital bed staring, like if she was the most perfect being on earth.

Her mother looking at her as if she had no flaws, disguising the pain she felt after have given birth only seconds ago. Her father looking at her as if she was the most beautiful flower in existence, around the most harmful ones of them all.

Ironic, isn't it?

Nurses walking towards the parents, looking at them, as if they were the only ones that had to go through something like this. Terrible, yet hopeful.

Misha Abigail Wright, had been born blind.

She never could see what the world was like, what her parents were like. She never knew what it was like to the the seasons to change, from winter, to spring, to summer, or to autumn. 

She never saw what color her eyes where, or the ones her parents had. The pictures they would tell her to draw or to color never had a specific shape or form. They always were what they were in her head, a mess full of nothing yet everything.

"A line is straight, never reaching a certain limit until you decide there to be", her mother said. She moved her finger across the palm of her daughters hand drawing an imaginary line from the tip of the middle finger continuing to the end of her palm.  Slowly and delicately, moving on and on, sending shivers through Misha's body. Feeling her mother's smooth fingers trace her arm... her shoulder... her chin... her lips... the tip of her nose... her cheek... "Stop!" Misha exclaimed.

Her mother had landed her fingers on her closed eye. Feeling the warmth emitting from them, knowing that this was the only thing she could use to draw a picture of what they might look like. How can they be seen as smooth, when it is only something that can be felt?

That was the way Misha lived the rest of her life. If she could feel it, then there was nothing else she needed. She did not care for emotional feelings, she did not care about anyone else's feelings. If she could not touch it, then there was no point. Closing herself was the only thing she could do. Jealousy grew inside her as she could never experience what the other kids could. What the other teenagers could. What the other adults could.

She grew cold and emotionless to everyone but her parents. They were everything to her. They were her eyes.

Until they died.

Seeing that they had never returned from their 2 hour emergency trip because of a sick aunt, she grew worried. She knew by now perfectly how much it took from one place to another, having gone there herself various times, she remembered, and she grew scared. Scared that the only people she trusted would not come back.

Was my aunt that sick? Were they at the hospital? Why haven't they called? Did they decide to stay? Did they realize I was a waist?... Did they not want me anymore?

Reaching a state of worry and anxiousness she could never describe and had never felt before.

Never wishing to feel again.

She loved them so much that when the news finally reached her... she finally saw what real pain felt like. Hearing the words leave the police officers mouth only made her believe that for a split second, she saw her parents behind them, smiling and waving. She could see the words being formed on the officers lips, saying such devastating things.

She cried and cried. Until she never cried again.

After her parents death, she decided to become independent, live the real world, live her own life, live where she could never feel. 

She thought she didn't deserve to be happy, she lived a lonely life, she lived a dark life.