Show me the world through your eyes

If you saw me on the street, if you just walked by me while sitting on a bench, you'd say I'm normal. You'd think I was just like you. A normal 17-year-old girl, but ... the thing is, I'm not.

The story of my life is a little different. You see, if I were to sit on a bench you wouldn't notice that it's something different from me, but if I got up ... you would immediately notice my gait a little more careful, more cautious and of course, my stick that helps me find the road.

Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either.

It's a little hard for me to get around.

I suffer from a rare disease that has taken away one of the most important senses a person has.

I was a normal girl or at least I was born that way, no one would have guessed what followed.

I was about seven years old when the disease appeared. I just didn't know that at the time.

At first I thought I only needed glasses, I started to lose sight of the blackboard or read something from a magazine. So I took my glasses, it helped for a while but then the glasses didn't work either.

Then Mom and Dad started to worry. They did several tests on me and I found out that I was suffering from a very rare disease, something I couldn't pronounce at the age of 7, so I called it HDC, or the black thief. And it has remained that way ever since.

It's just that the black thief is not as pretty a disease as it sounds, it's something I didn't even know how to say and the worst part, no one knew there was a cure for that.

After the glasses didn't work either, I had to get used to seeing more in the fog.

I mean, I could see the colors and the shapes, but I couldn't read anything. That was almost when I turned 8 and then, in a few months, all the colors and shapes disappeared, as if they had never been there before.

At the age of 8 and a half, I was already blind.

The impact was huge, both on me and my family.

Because all of a sudden, something that people consider normal, something that I consider normal, disappeared, and only then did I realize how important that thing was.

I have been blind for almost 10 years and this is the story of my life, it is not complicated, not as sad as some would expect, sometimes it may be harsh but I always thought it was unique. In a way that will make it epic.

There were times when I wondered if it would have been better to have been blind since I was born, but then I realized that I should be grateful that I got to see at least a little bit of the world before. .that when I touch an object I can visualize in my mind an image with it or when I know it's morning to look at the sky, to know what a sunrise looks like. There are so many things that a man would normally ignore, a man would be in too much of a hurry in the morning to go to work to have time to admire a sunrise. Instead, I admire them, visualize them in my mind, and simply admire them. I love them and cling to them. Everything the world around me means.

At the age of 8, I had to drop out of school and start taking special classes. They were kept in the hospital three days a week.

This year is my last year and although it's weird for a person like me to say that, but I love reading.

I read as much as I can, and although the disease makes my job more difficult than it is for a normal person, I don't give up, because I don't want to give up an illness, an obstacle to stand in the way of my desires. I don't want to live my life as my HDC dictates.

***

Luckily for me, Mom and Dad stayed together. Many families divorce when one of their children is ill because there are a lot of problems, but in the case of my parents, this was not the case. My illness united us even more as a family.

I was especially close to Cristian, my younger brother, whom the last time I saw him I could barely reach my elbows and now he's two heads taller than me.

I mean, I don't know exactly, but he always tells me that, and so do my parents.

This saddens me at times, the fact that I haven't had a chance to see my little brother grow up ... but I quickly recover from this sadness and try to see the full side of the glass. Just because I didn't see him grow physically, didn't mean I wasn't there when he grew up. Because I was.

I listened to him sing in the basement of the house with his band of two of his best friends. I was there to congratulate him when he finished high school and I went to all his basketball games.

I always tried to make him feel like I was there for him, I didn't want him to feel left out, because even though I didn't want to, I was the sick child and the sick child is always the one who involuntarily gets more attention because he needs it. .

***

-Lizzi! Breakfast is ready! I hear my mother screaming from the kitchen -

I'm coming now!

I clutch my hair in my hands and grab it with a pin. I run my hands through him so he doesn't have lumps because if he did, I wouldn't be able to see, would I?

I leave the room and go to the kitchen where I smell pancakes. The TV is on and I think of a picture of my dad reading a newspaper while he was drinking his coffee and his mother with a spoon in his hand as he greased his pancakes and Cristian with a bowl of cereal in front of him, probably just like that. the only thing different is that in my mind, Cristian still looks like a five-year-old:

"Morning!"

-Dear morning!

My mother kisses me on the forehead as I sit at the table. I reach out and grab the fork with safe movements. My mind is like a map.

After I went blind, I began to develop new senses. I mean, if my stuff is put in exactly the same place, I know the distance to them so well that there's no need to grope for it.

I hear a chair pulling and I know my mom sat down at the table too so I start eating. That's my family rule, breakfast and dinner together.

-Lizzi, do you want me to drive you to the hospital today?

I shake my head and look at my mother, well, I don't really look at her, just at a picture of her in my mind.

-I'm going to walk. It's pretty hot outside and I'd love to go for a walk.

-Good. As you wish, dear.

After breakfast, the house empties because everyone leaves. Cristian in high school, and mom and dad at work.

I don't really like this moment when I'm left alone, but I don't pay as much attention to it as I did in the beginning.

I put on some ballerinas and leave the house.

Up to a point on the street I don't even need my stick anymore, I know the road so well.

My favorite part is when I hear various things around me, such as birds or cars, heels on the tarmac, or the smell of flowers or food, and an image of those things comes to my mind, it's like a whole movie unfolds in me. the face of the eyes at every moment.

You would think that a blind person sees only infinite darkness, but in fact, it is a lot of color.1

***

There are 6 more children like me in the class I attend. Mrs. Katerine or Katy, as we sometimes call her, teaches us materials that are taught in a normal school only with the help of methods by which we can learn.

Being only 7 in total, we ended up being pretty good friends. Caroline, Julia and Matt are the same age as me and Ella, Carlo and Steph are two years younger, respectively. All blind from birth. Everyone except me.

Sometimes they ask me to describe certain things to them in the way I remember them. I know he could ask someone who actually sees that object and he could explain it correctly not only from the memories of a 7-year-old child but I think it's not about how the object really looks but it's about being described by someone who sees the world the way you see it. Someone who saw the world through your eyes.

***

The class ends at 2 o'clock so we go home.

I already know this part of the hospital like the back of my hand, so I'm not taking off my wand and I'm not talking about those glasses.

I walk through the hallway that leads to the exit and there's too much noise around me to realize that I'm getting too close to a person and I'm hitting on them.

I stumble a few steps but I manage to regain my balance. I hear some rattles as if something metal has fallen on the ground and someone says:

-See where I'm going! Are you blind?

It's a boy's voice and I immediately realize that my question is being asked. I hear him bend over to pick up whatever he has dropped. Don't stare at me and answer as calmly as I can:

-Actually, I really am.

Quiet. The rattle stops. After a few moments I hear him swear in his beard:

-Firar!

I smile:

-Yes, this is the moment when you realize that you are saying something wrong at the wrong time.

I hear him sigh, "No.

" That's when I realize how big an idiot I am. Sorry.

I shrug and grin.

"Are you an idiot?" Nah, it still happens to us all.

I hear him laughing and my mind immediately records that sound.

-By the way, it's Logan!

-Eliza, but my friends call me Lizzi!

-I'm fine, Lizzi, but now you have to excuse me for taking this tray to a salon.

I nod:

-Of course.

- I'm sorry again.

-It's fine.

-Pa, Lizzi!

-No, Logan!

I hear his footsteps on the floor as he walks away, and only then do I leave. I leave the hospital and try to create an image in my mind that I can associate with Logan. His voice is pleasant. Firm but harmonious. He has a good sense of humor and looks nice.

I imagine big brown eyes and a little longer blond hair. And for now, I'm happy with that picture. I put it in my mind labeled, as simple as Logan, and then continue on my way home. The fact that I can't see made me develop my other senses much more.

I mean, I can identify any food by its smell. Or I can point to an object just dubbing the sound it makes.

This helps me navigate the world around me.

When I get home it's still early so I'm alone. I change into a lighter dress and go out into the yard. I sit on a sun lounger and put some headphones on.

Music always calms me down. It seems to me that when I listen to music, I detach myself from this world and float to a new place, a place where I have my own story. Where I'm normal. Where my eyes are not flawed.

I listen to the lyrics and hum them softly while the sun's rays caress my skin.

Cristian is the first to get home.

-Lizzi? I've arrived! I hear him shouting from the hall

. I get up and go in. I no longer have a problem moving around the house. I'm telling you again, if you didn't know right now, you wouldn't say I don't see.

I hear two pairs of footsteps and I know there's someone else with him. I listen intently until I know they've both gone into the kitchen:

-Hey, Colton!

-Hey, Lizzi! How are you?

-Good. You?

-I came with Cristian to get his equipment.

-Do you have training? I only ask for the sake of having a conversation because I know the schedule of all the members of my family.

-Yes. We have training.

Colton has been Cristian's best friend since they were little, so he's been around a lot. It's great for a kid his age. He knows, like my family, that when he's around, he can't just nod in response because I can't see him.

I hear the refrigerator door open and close.

-I'll be back in a few hours. Please let Mom and Dad know.

-Good.

I hear Cristian's footsteps approaching me and he pulls me towards him to hug me.

-See you later!

-Training fun!

-Pa, Lizzi!

-Well, Colton!

Mom and Dad arrive at about the same time. Mom prepares dinner while Dad mows the lawn. I read a few pages of a book until my mother yells at me.

After dinner I go back to my room and go to bed. I put my headphones back on my ears and fall asleep.3

***

The next day when I go to the hospital, I go in and head for the elevator.

I press the button for the floor I have to go to:

-Please hold the elevator!

I hear hurried footsteps and step back when someone enters the elevator. The doors close and I hear him press a button.

-Thanks. I hear him say.

Then he probably turns his head and looks at me because he says, "

Oh, hey, Lizzi!" I'm Logan, we met yesterday when I showed how stupid I can be.

I chuckle a little: -Yes

, I remember.

I think he's smiling too. I listen to his still hurried breathing and realize that he ran to catch the elevator.

The elevator stops and the doors open.

-Well, I have to get down here.

I nod:

"Well, Logan!"

-Later, Lizzi!

I listen to his footsteps as he exits the elevator and the doors close behind him.

***

My mother asks me to help her prepare a cake while my father and Cristian repair the car in the garage.

Since I can't see the weight, basically, my job is to beat the eggs, wash the fruit and break the chocolate into pieces. Nothing my mother could have done without my help, but I know she doesn't want me to cook with her anyway.

She likes to know me up close. She likes to talk to her. He likes it when I ask him questions and he always tries to answer me as best he can: -

Soon Cristian will have the match that the sponsors will come to.

I smile:

-It's great! I'm sure he'll get a scholarship.

-Yes. And I. However, it is a good idea to have a scholarship one year before the last year.

-That means having talent and being dedicated and Cristian is both.

I can feel my mother smiling. He kisses my forehead and I feel a slight sting in my heart. It's normal to worry about Cristian. He is our plan for the future. He's the one who's going to college. The one who will move out of the house and manage on his own. Who's going to live in a dormitory and who's going to a party. It's normal to worry about that for him. I mean, in the end, I'll stay here. At least until I finish college. I'm going to take some special courses after I choose which specialty I'm going to go to and even then, I'll probably never go too far. I will always need them.

And from this point of view, I feel like my disease is cutting off my wings.