After all the running, I'm still blinded.
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Between the steep valleys and hollowed crossroads,
I found a fountain of courage and light,
a new start.
"How would she know where to go?"
"She's just like her crazy mother?"
"Don't you feel bad?"
People have always been curious about the life of a blind woman like me. Most often I hear, " Wouldn't it be better just to die in that state? Wasn't it just facing death consciously?"
I'd always mutter in my head, "You people are the one who's deprived of the vision to see. You live up in a cryptic society where hate is the profound power of your gossips." These people are always shrouded in the clouds of their own delusions. I want to pity them, but they don't deserved it.
As I face north towards the house of Aunt Martha, I walked pass through these stale-minded humans. From the ground market of Cicada, I took a stride in the road of Henchkins where Aunt's house was placed.
The sound of the wagon reeled my ears to the side. It might one of the good carriers from my father's transporters. He work as their commanding officer. It was moving in an uncontrolled motion causing a swift splash of dirt painted in my clothes.
"Hey woman! Don't blame me — its your fault for not looking at the road." His voice echoed as he goes afar from my perspective. I would have believed him, but for him to do this almost each time I take this path, his words were made less believable. So I just took my hanky from my pocket and motioned it to where I felt like the stain has reached.
Once I'm all set, I began my adventure again. I patted my shoulder and faced front. "It's alright, it's just one of those days." I held my basket of fresh apples and apricots and checked if its still okay. Luckily, it turns out to be in good shape still.
"I wonder... any time now please?" As if my words was the signal for them to lead me, the birds started humming unceasingly which I listened into attentively. If some people were the antagonists in my life, I consider animals as my companions which I entrust my judgments fully. They would never lie to me and would always help me redirect my way when I'm feeling lost.
The reverberating sound soon began to fade. I could smell newly baked cinnamon rolls and there's just one word to describe it, "Smells delicious." Okay, it wasn't just one word, but I have to give credit to how it made my stomach rumble. I should hurry up so I can have a taste of some. Aunt Martha's cinnamon rolls if not the best in the world, it surely is one of the bests.
"Alice! I thought I said I'll get the apples and apricots later? Good heavens! You got me worried I almost over-baked these goodies." There was a hint of worried tone in her voice.
"Oh Aunt, I know you are worried but I also do know you'll never let anyone affect how these rolls would turn out to be. They're your children." I swayed my head in disapproval and flashed a smile as I hug her tight.
"Come on, sit. I'll serve you some." Aunt took the basket and replaced it with a plate of bread. Hunger was quickly enveloped with delight as I engrave the taste of this roll in my stomach. It was indeed scrumptious.
In rare occasions, my Aunt makes these tasty treats. Today is the birthday of my mother.
"Have you talked to your father yet?" She sat next to me and held one of my hand.
"I did. But he was so ignorant of my ideas. He thought I don't have any talent aside from bugging people. He told me it was my best skill." I sighed in disbelief and I could also hear my Aunt's heavy breathing.
"Adam. I should go talk to him. If you want to, I can handle the expenses just so you can go to Briche's School of Great Arts." She tightened the grip in my hands and leaned onto my shoulder.
"You know, if only your Mom was still alive, she would be very proud that her daughter turned into a fine artist. She was just like you." I could feel Aunt's tears trying to let go.
"Perhaps painting was never meant for me, I should just give it up Aunt. It's not for the likes of me anyway. Who am I kidding? A blinded person painting? I must've been crazy as how people deemed me to be." With a defeated face, I looked at my aunt and faked a smile. I don't want to owe her something I am uncertain if I could repay.
Painting was the only avenue for me to express myself. It was my breathing ground. I know I got whatever it takes to cultivate it, but I feel like there's just something with going to an academy that my father doesn't like. He might be afraid that I will embarrass him.
"Aunt I think I have to go. If my dad finds me not at home when he arrives, I will get into trouble. Thank you for your concern Aunt Martha, you're the only person I could open up to so please don't persuade Dad about it. I don't want you to be dragged in this mess I started." I kissed her forehead and prepared myself to leave.
"Just so you know Alice, I'm always by your side no matter what. You know that right?" She hugged me once again and gave me a bag of other breads as a departing gift. I visit her twice a month because it's quite far, so she always make sure that I have something to eat when I travel. She's really the best aunt.
"Bye aunt. I'll have to visit my mother's grave now. See you soon." I bowed and officially took my leave.
Miles from here, is Mount Vermillion. It is where my mother's resting place resides. I have to pick up the pace or else I'll get there by noon and get home at night. I'm pretty sure my Dad won't like the idea of that.
Entering the tranquil forest, I submerged myself into the serenity of the atmosphere. It was so peaceful that it was almost tempting me to take a rest and sleep. I took off my slippers and trudge slowly in the grass. I could feel it — soft. It tickled my feet.
Suddenly, I heard an object thrown in the lake. There's someone here, I have to go. Touching and feeling my things one by one, fear choked my lungs. In this world where almost everyone could see, I'm definitely at a disadvantage if someone would randomly hit me up.
"Why in a hurry?" A young voice of a man sprouted in a distance.
"Where are you? What are you doing here? Please leave me alone or else I'm gonna hit you! Seriously." I quickly fixed my slippers into my feet and forced a run, however, the man grabbed my arms.
"That's rude. I was here first, and you were here for quite a time now. Why does it feel unfair that I am treated like a stranger who'll take advantage of you?" His voice feels close now. I can sense it.
"Okay, I take it all back. I have to leave. Please get off my arms." I tried to adjust my body so I could escape, but he closed the gap between us and hugged me. "Umfhh-" I was cut off.
"Shhh. There are people heading towards us, be quiet." I was forced to duck and I heard people conversing faintly.
"What a harvest this is officer!" A high-toned man stated loudly, it echoed throughout the forest.
That voice, it sounded like one of the colleagues of my father. There's no way he'll be in this place.
"Of course this is a harvest, I know this place. This is where my wife and I met. This forest is bounded to be filled with fruits I'm sure. I have to visit her later." A deep, baritone voice replied.
Oh no. I hope he's not what I think he is.
After all the running away from home.....
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I'm still blinded by the truth.
In an instant, I heard the sound of the wagon nearing our spot.
"I'm in trouble. Please help me." I said out of the misery.