Don’t Get Too Close

They come in all the time, worried about their children. I see them and I try to warn both the parents and the kids. Clearly, they never listen when I tell them: Don’t get too Close.

“Mom,” Michael, the eight-year-old boy, screamed at a decibel to shatter ear drums.

Angela, Michael’s mother, ran into the parlor where her son was sitting on the floor six feet away from the TV screen with his back touching the coffee table. Under his blond hair, he was rubbing his eyes. “Mom,” he screamed again, fright tethered to his voice.

“I’m right here, honey,” Angela responded, embracing Michael. Her arms around his shoulders in an effort to comfort Michael, but his body shook violently with fear. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Panic infected her instantly.

Michael removed his hands from his face. “There’s something wrong with my eyes.”

Angela examined her son’s pupils, but was unable to see any irregularities. “Oh, what is it? I don’t see anything.”

Michael blinked several times before confessing. “I can’t see well.”

Angela glanced around the parlor again. She realized how close she was to the television and instinctually deducted the cause. “Michael, were you sitting close to the TV again? How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t sit too close to the television. You’ll ruin your eyes and go blind,” she ordered.

Michael fell into silence, knowing her deduction was spot on. “But, it’s so far away if I sit on the sofa. Why can’t we just get a bigger TV? Scotty has a flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. It’s so much easier to watch.”

“Do you think money just grows on trees? Look, if you’re going to watch TV, make sure you sit on the sofa, and don’t argue with me, or I’ll take away your TV privileges.”

The order was stern enough to end the argument. Michael, still blinking repeatedly, walked over to the couch and sat down. “Fine,” he huffed and reached for the remote to turn the TV back on.

Angela stood up and returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Why does he have to sit so close? She thought to herself, reminiscing back to her childhood. She chuckled when she reminded herself her parents had given her the same warning. Though there has never been any conclusive evidence that sitting too close to the TV resulted in blindness, the warning had been ingrained in her and is probably the reason she said it. Where did the stupid myth even come from? She wondered as she wrapped up dinner preparations. When the table was set and the food done, she called Michael to join her at the kitchen table for dinner.

Michael ran into the kitchen and immediately bumped into the chair, crashing down on the floor. “Michael,” Angela shouted, “watch where you are going.”

Michael shook with surprise, but reached for the chair and clambered up onto it. “I tried, but I can’t really see it.” 


“What do you mean, you can’t see it?” Angela was becoming weary of his antics.

“The chair. It’s all blurry, and I wasn’t able to see it clearly,” he added.

“Stop messing with me. You were only six feet away from the screen. It's not going to ruin your eyes that quickly,” she teased, sitting down at the table to begin eating.

Michael reached for the first plate of food, but his hand bounced, searching for food to grab aimlessly. Every bounce stacked concern in Angela.

“Michael, you’re not blind. Stop acting like you are,” she warned, but his hand continued to feeling around for any dinner item. She could hear Michael begin to whimper.

“I’m not joking, mom. I can’t see where the food is,” trepidation gripped his trembling voice, and Angela’s heart simultaneously. She darted towards her son to reexamine his eyes. Both pupils looked normal.

“Michael, did you sit close to the TV again?” Seriousness coated her words.

“No, I was on my iPad,” he admitted, “because the TV screen was too blurry from the couch.”

Angela began feeling the worst. She knew the TV rumor was just to scare kids, but was clueless on the reason for his poor eyesight. The next step was unavoidable. “Michael, come with me. We’re going to the hospital.”

She guided Michael to the car and buckled him in. Tears were streaming down his face, as they were hers. “Am I going to become blind?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to sit so close to the TV. Please, mommy, don’t let me go blind.”

“You’ll be fine,” she tried to console, but could sense her own voice betraying her. “Let’s just get to the ER,” she started the car and sped out onto the darken road.

All along the way, Michael continued his fearful chant, “I don’t want to go blind. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sit so close.” Angela would try to tell him it’s just a rumor, but it was futile. He firmly believed he was going to become blind for sitting too close to the TV. She pulled into the parking lot and carried her sightless child through the emergency room double doors. Fortunately, it was relatively empty, and she thanked God for the lack of patients. She explained to the receptionist about her son's depleting vision and was instructed to wait for the next available doctor. Minutes later, an elderly man, with white hair and donning a matching color lab coat, emerged from the doorway.

“Ms. Peterson?” He confirmed, and Angela nodded. “I’m Doctor Cormos. I’m here to assist your son with his vision. Please follow me.” he invited them towards the emergency area and to an empty room. Once they were settled, Angela on a chair and Michael resting atop the bed, Cormos began his questions.

“You say there’s something wrong with his eyesight?”

Angela watched as the Doctor sat near a computer and typing personal information into Michael’s file.

“That is correct.”

“When did the symptoms first occur?”

“Well, he was watching TV and complained about his eyes this evening. Before dinner.”

“I see. Does he watch TV often?” Cormos added with concern.

“Of course, he’s eight. Most eight-years love watching TV, right?” Angela responded.

“Yes, that is true. With the advancement of technology, you do know that too much screen time can be bad for a child. How close to the TV do you think he was sitting?”

Angela began feeling shameful, like she had failed as a parent for allowing her son to watch so much TV. “I am not sure. Maybe about six feet?”

“Are you sure it was six feet?” Cormos confirmed.

“Well, I can’t be certain. I was cooking dinner when he started to complain.”

Cormos stopped typing and turned to look directly at Angela. “Are you aware that any child sitting too close is at risk of becoming blind?”

“What? I thought it was just a rumor,” Angela blurted in confusion.

“Many people think it’s simply a myth, but the truth is, you really shouldn’t sit so close to the TV or even electronic devices,” he stated, authority embedded in his deep voice.

Angela's head swam in perplexity. “Electronic devices? Like, how close is too close?”

“It depends on the size of the device, really. For modern televisions, six or more feet is ideal. For your cell phone, at least a foot, always,” he recommended. “Also, little Michael should not be on the screen for more than 2 hours and for adults, only two to four hours of recreational screen time. It helps to protect your vision and retinas.” Cormos added.

Angela scoffed. “Yeah, but those are just recommendations, right? I mean, no one has actually gone blind from too much screen time, or sitting too close to the TV.”

Cormos kept a stern expression plastered on his face. “Ms. Peterson, your vision is no laughing matter. There have been many cases of people losing their vision to screens since the creation of consumer television. Many patients attest to their vision loss becoming sudden. When asked what they were doing, the answer is always the same: watching TV.

“I take vision very serious because I practiced optometry for many years. I have extensive research regarding this very topic. The cases seem to have increased with the advancement of technology. I believe there may be a connection between screen time and eyesight, so I have spent a good portion of my practice trying to warn patients of the dangers,” Cormos concluded.

“I’m so sorry,” Angela replied remorsefully. She lowered her head, fearing Michael may become blind because he was too stubborn to stay away from the TV screen, or her ignorance as a parent to keep him off the boob tube.

“I will examine his eyes to determine how serious the problem is,” Cormos consoled. He stood up and walked over to Michael and tilted his head back to study his retinas. He stared at his eyes for half a minute, before pulling out a light. “Michael, see if you can follow my light.” Cormos gradually moved the light to the left and to the right, but Michael’s head and eyes remained unmoved.

“Where’s the light?” Michael’s words shot Angela’s heart, and startled Cormos.

“Michael, can you see any light?”

He shook his head slowly.

Cormos glanced over at Angela and shook his head. “I fear it may be too late. Please follow me to the optometry department, I want to run a few more tests.”

The trio left the ER area and traveled through the labyrinth of the hospital. Cormos led them to an office with eye examining equipment. He sat Michael down on the chair, while Angela waited on the booth in the room for the examination to be complete.

“Ok, Michael, read any line you can,” Cormos instructed.

“I can’t see any lines,” Michael responded, his voice shaken with fear.

“Not even the big letter on the wall?” Cormos confirmed.

“No,” he sobbed.

Cormos removed the equipment and tried again. “How about now, can you see anything?”

Michael’s flood of tears returned. “No, I can’t see anything. Everything is dark. Mommy, are you there, mommy? I can’t see my mommy!”

“I’m right here, honey,” mother instinct kicked in and Angela was holding Michael’s hand. “I’m right here.” She whispered repetitively in his ear, holding him dearly.

“I’m deeply sorry, but I am afraid he has permanently lost his vision. Worse, it appears he is going to spend the remaining years of his life in darkness. It’s an enigma, really. Apparently, light is not even passing through the retina. Whatever he did literally stole his vision,” Cormos concluded.

Angela refused to accept this horrifying reality. “There’s nothing you can do?”

Cormos shook his head with a sorrowful expression. “I can try to run a few more tests, but if all he is seeing is darkness, then it would be pointless. This is similar to many case studies I have read in the past. Every patient was suddenly in complete darkness, each time after watching TV too close or too long. I hate to say it, but I’m serious, his eyesight has been stolen.”

Angela gripped her child, contemplating how he was going to live his life in darkness, but feeling guilty for not being more proactive in preventing this disaster.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes alone,” Cormos suggested, and exited the room.

I exit the room with a smile on my face every time I deliver the disappointing news. I love how every parent feels guilty of what their child has done to themselves. What they thought was a myth could not be more true, and no one has ever suspected me as the villain. I have been to various medical establishments across the globe for decades now because it’s easier to steal vision from humans in this technological world. I try to have some sympathy and warn them, but I know humans are too gullible or naive. In the case of Michael, it was too late. His refusal to heed his mother’s warning has costed him his vision. It doesn’t matter, I will put it to good use. I love the taste of fresh eyesight. He had it for a solid nine years, while I had spent too much of my life in darkness as a blind demon.

When I discovered how addicted humans are to their puny devices, I was motivated to concoct a method to steal their vision. I observed how they sit too close to their television, or too long to their devices. With a hint of dark magick, I was able to siphon their eyesight directly from their screens. Don’t worry, I promise, you’ll be next, unless you don’t get too close.