by Ana Cuthbert
You can't see.
When the blinding first occurred, I thought I was the only one affected. I was sitting at my desk working on a school paper and in an instant, everything went pitch black.
I had cried out to my parents in fear and confusion, but their response was almost an echo of my own. They, too, could not see.And we soon learned that the whole world had been victim to having their sight filled with darkness. Interestingly enough, we doubt this has affected any animals living on earth. Just us humans. The only strange thing that happened after the blinding was the demand for milk somehow skyrocketed.
At first, adapting was extremely difficult. Something as mundane and simple as using the loo had become a daily challenge and something I didn't look forward too. Within a few months, support groups had been created by individuals who were already blind prior to the incident. They assisted those who were struggling with their newfound obstacle.
I was taking a short walk to the store to get some groceries. I don't know why, but I've developed a dependency on milk. I had gripped the handle of the door to the small corner shop and pushed the door open. A bell was hung on the inside handle of the door.
“Hiya, let me know if you need help finding anything!” a voice sung to my right.
“Thanks, Tom, I will.” I replied.
“Ah Sam! How've you been?” he asked in an even more enthusiastic tone.
With a somewhat slow pace, I walked around the store, feeling along the braille to determine if I had found my item.
“Pretty much the same.” I said with a bit of a chuckle. My hand touched something cold. Finally, I found the milk. As I was about to open the door I could see my reflection in the rectangular shaped window of the cooler.
I was entirely sure how to react nor was I sure as to what happened. I was looking. At myself. In a mirror. For the first time in two years. I started shaking and I could feel the warmth and moisture filling my eyes.
I noticed writing on the reflection itself, a dark maroon like red filled message. I was so excited I hadn't even noticed it. In fact, most of the interior of the shop was covered in this writing. I looked a little closer at the message written in red.
Don't tell them you can see.
What the hell does that mean? Who’s them?? I suddenly caught a glimpse of the individual standing behind the counter of the store. Who.. what is that…
“Sam? You need some help over there bud?” It asked It had Tom's voice but it definitely was not Tom. And the way its mouth moved was… Was it even its mouth? I had no clue.
I was staring at something at least seven feet tall. Grotesque and eldritch was the only way I could possibly describe it. Its dark brown skin was rigid, wrinkled and moist with extremely tiny openings in its skin dribbling out a yellow sort of pus. It wasn't wearing any sort of clothing. Its arms were somewhat long and bony with thin appendages that ended in human looking hands. Its head was shaped like a large football. The creature's mouth looked to be in a vertical position and when it spoke I could see many layers and rows of sharp crocodile-like teeth.
“Here Sam, let me help out.” it said, Its voice had changed as well. It was gurgled and sounded as if it was being put through a filter. As it moved I could hear it squish against the floor. That is the first time I've ever heard that. Why am I only hearing this now? How have I never heard that? Instead of gaping at the reflection and trying to ascertain how it walks, I simply stared daggers into that carton of milk. That's when I noticed the colour of the milk. It wasn't white or brown or any colour a milk should be. It was black.
As the creature grew closer, a foul smell assaulted my nostrils. It took everything I had not to vomit. It reached out with its human-like hand and grasped my shoulder. My entire body tensed up so much you could split a boulder on the top of my head. “We’re having a ton of different specials on milk today.” It spoke and I could only see its mouth open wide behind my head with what I assumed was a smile.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments with names are more likely to be published.