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Student with a passion for creative writing and sharing her thoughts in feelings as written words


Have you ever wondered what it's like to be bestowed with the gift of blindness and deafness? Living in a world of a void - no sound, only blinding bright light. Almost as if you were dead but still able to feel, taste, and smell, wishing it all were just puppet show. This is the story of a man who lost his sight and sense of hearing after an unpropitious event.

Upon first light, after losing his sight and sensation of sound. The man has yet to acknowledge his misfortune, as he still believes himself to still be in the world of slumber. His bed being his sole source of comfort, fluffy like the sheep counted in his sleep. His cotton candy like bedding engulfing him in the aroma of sweet strawberries and pancakes. This doesn't appear to be abiding as he's startled by a delicate, warm hand slipping underneath his head, cautiously elevating him to a sitting position. He, however, did not hear the visitant enter. Before he has time to register the occurring event, a spongy object presses upon his lips. The man notes this to be the previous smelt confectionary. He opens his mouth to taste homemade pancakes coated in strawberry syrup, he gobbles them down quickly but safely seemingly eating a pile of pancakes, stomach threatening to burst any second, a warm feeling of contentment emits from the loving treat he just devoured. The man requests a stroll in the park. Unsure of his statement, as the words just seemed to escape his mouth. He sits there unknowingly till he feels something imperceptibly heavy being draped across his shoulders. What appears to be wool befalling on his shoulders. A coat maybe? He gets a familiar fuzzy feeling emanating from his chest creating a smile on his face.

He steadies himself from his slumber garden with the aid of the delicate hands caring for him. He undeviatingly advances his way ahead with the support of the petite hand owner. They leisurely progress down what the man perceived to be stairs based on how his feet move without his intention as if he's been through this before. He exhibits a coarse yet sleek texture grazing his feet, relishing the sensation of life. He walks outside only for the gelid air to beat him with a baseball bat. He starts to limp but nevertheless enjoys the fuzzy snow beneath his naked feet. They keep walking until the numbness begins spreading over the man's body, unable to utter a word, nothing coming out of his mouth. Slowly his consciousness dissolving, he reverses back to his slumber.

Regaining some sensation back, with the blinding light becoming brighter he experiences little heat, but enough, enter his body. Then, a luscious yet slightly foul odour trespasses into his nostrils. He recalls the resemblance of the fragrance to earlier. He opens his eyes, and the same small hand helps him up, but this time lacking its comforting warmth, almost resembling an object instead of a human. The petite owner feeds him the same pancakes of earlier but this time leaving a putrescent aftertaste. The man's lips move on their own, once again proposing a walk in the park. He still does not hear nor see, but still feels a woollen fabric wrap over his shoulders but this time heavier than before. He now recalls this to be his favourite coat. He once again gets help, and off they go making their way downstairs and out into the piercingly cold outside. The coldness piercing the man's body, making him feel weaker, and number as his consciousness fades once again.

He once again wakes in the same bed, petrified of the unknown. Abruptly the man is startled by frigidness as if all empathy evanesced, almost doll-like. The perceived doll feeds him pancakes once again, but now the man is chewing on live decomposing maggots. Their flesh sinking into the man's teeth and wrapping itself around them unwilling to let go. Leaving the putrid taste of decay exploring his mouth. His lips, again, move on their own, this time demanding to leave this place. The man still having no control over himself. He feels a solid object snake itself onto him, weighing him down overwhelmingly and the apathetic mannequin abruptly and ruthlessly throws him off the bed onto the stone cold ground. Overwhelmed by the weight of the object and the paranormal force he was thrown at, the man could not move; instead, something else took control over his body, and he began walking but with no authority over his actions. He walked through the rough ground feeling maggots burrowing their way into his body. Numbness spreading to his body quicker than last time, with the frostbitten cold devouring him just in time. And so he lost himself.

How cruel the strings of fate were to him, turning his life into a neverending echo, with each rehearsal getting shorter and more distorted, with the unforeseen light radiating brighter, coat burdening him further, maggots domesticating themselves within his body, empathy being erased around him and the sheer cold freezing him to the core. How he just wanted his life to be over...That's when he realised.

It already was.

He remembers his old age, helpless to move on his own. He had his personal greenhouse where the man would take his daughter each daybreak and then make pancakes and strawberry syrup. They always went to play in the park when she was a toddler, her smile was all it took to melt his heart.

His final memory was the first day of winter. A blindingly white morning, he was strolling through the nostalgic park with his daughter. He humbly asked her "Won't you take a seat with me on the bench?" the daughter was bewildered at her father's request as he didn't like wasting life sitting doing nothing, but complied nevertheless. They sat down, and the man spoke again "I love you". That was when his heart gave its last beat. He finally allows the light to engulf his body.

And so, he welcomed death with a smile.

© 2019 Zuzanna Weronika Szafranska

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