When we could see no more then only we could see truly.

After the Fight
It was nothing like that sort.
I sighed.
He never understood. He never listened.
Riding on a bicycle, I was way past ecstasy.
Nothing soothed me better than having hot summer air blowing at my face.
It was like the wind knew better than to fight with you.
It just accepted all you had to offer and brought it all up to the sky until it exploded.
Yeah. That was what I thought.
That was perfect until I encountered with the special twist in my life.

Mark
I was actually not that sort of girl who was swelled up with confidence and dripped with the essence of excellence.
I was more of a shy girl who knew not her grounds and stood neither in the popular circle nor the freaks' circle.
I was somewhere in between.
So, that was all about me until I got myself a boyfriend out of nowhere.
It scared the voices out of many of those who thought I was too plain to be noticed.
Even my parent did that.
His name was Mark.
Mark Harte.
I remembered all those sweet thing he would do for me in the first couple months when we started dating.
He would say all those beautiful things to me that nobody had said before.
He would melt my heart with only a small gesture as a hug.
He was always so sweet until I realized that that was never true love.
It was just a pathetic mixture of a pile of dust plus some after-break-up feelings.
He thought I was the best healing remedy he could find for his broken heart.
He thought wrong.

When love came too late.
The first thing that came to my mind was this inability to open my eyes.
I kept trying to open them but it just stuck there.
I could hear the voices of some machines that went "tick, tick, tick".
I could feel that I was lying on my back.
But, I could not open my eyes with all my might.
It seemed that my eyelids would stayed like that forever.
I tried to make a sound but with some failed attempts.
Then, I tried to sit myself upright in whatever bed I was in.
That was when I realized I was not alone.
"Miss Moon, your're not supposed to sit just yet."
I had no idea who was that.
"Why? Can you tell me where is it? Why it seems so weird? I can't seem to open my eyes and it hurts."
My voice came naturally to me but it seemed unnatural and unfamiliar.
Some silence filled in the room.
"Wait a minute. I'll call your mother."
I could tell that she was a middle-aged woman from her voice.
But, I still had not a clue what had happened to me.
It seemed an eternity before any sound reached me.
My eyes still hurt like something hard had stuck on it and I could not force them open.
I felt helpless.
The door opened and shut again.
At least, it sounded like that.
Some footsteps followed before I could recognize my mother's voice.
"Honey, how you're feeling? Still hurt?"
Her voice was always so sweet and light like it was being covered with a thin coat of honey syrup.
But, it was not like that now.
Her voice was hoarse and dried.
It felt like desert.
Someone said something before I could make a reply.
"It should be fine now she's awake. The hurts will go away soon enough."
It as yet somebody else whom I did not know.
I remained silent.
I could not make sense of any of these.
The door opened and shut again.
"Honey, you're okay?"
My mother's hand grabbed around mine and gave it a tight twist.
She sounded like she was going to throw up.
"Mom, where am I? What happened? Why can't I open my eyes? Who are all those people?"
These questions came in a breath.
My mother's grip tighten around mine.
Silence visited the room again.
It was very quiet that I thought she was not going to answer me.
"You're in the hospital. You had an accident."
I could feel that she was trying to not emphasize on the word "accident" but it came out the other way.
"An accident? What happened?"
I was by this time sat myself upright in the bed.


What lost was lost.
"You don't remember?"
She sounded very weak to me.
The machine beside me still tried to work its way through those "tick, tick, tick" sounds which were more annoying than comforting.
"You're riding a bicycle when it happened. A car missed an overpass."
Her voice became softer and lighter by every minute.
Then, all the memories came piled in like a flashback movie.
It was Friday and I had a quarrel with Mark over something trivial that I could not recall.
I rode off without any explanation on either party.
I was angry and sad at the same time.
I was way past second street when it happened.
"What happened then?" I started to see the whole picture.
It was an accident and my eyes hurt.
I could feel my hands and my legs but not my eyes.
"You were sent to this hospital."
"No! I meant what happened to me?" What happened to this body?"
I started to get anxious.
"Honey, calm down. You need to calm down and listen to me. It'll all work out. I'll always be here."
Now, both my hands were in my mother's.
Peace was not to come to me.
At least, not in this shape.
"You had an accident. You had an operation because your eyes were injured."
I was expecting this.
"Then, do I need to wait like two months before I could open them?"
The moment the question was out that I could feel my mother's emotion changed.
It became deep and dark.
"Some sharp objects hit your eyes and hurt your retinas. The operation could not save them. They were gone."
It was my father's voice.
He had been in the room all this while and I did not know.
I was starting to feel the lost of my vision.
'What? I don't understand. It means I'm blind? Forever? For my whole life?"
Both of them kept quiet at that.
Their silence proved the truth more than words could have done.
"Honey, you cannot cry! You'll hurt your eyes!"
The tears felled down without my permission.
I was not going to cry. I was not going to cry. I was not going to.
But, it came anyway.
"Mom, I couldn't. Tell me I'm not blind. Mom! Dad!"
My voice came in with sobs and screams.
I knew I sounded like a lunatic.
I clung onto my mother for comfort but she was already gone.
It was my father that came to me.
He hugged me without asking me to stop crying.
And there in his warm arm, I cried my heart out and hoped that it would all soon go away.
Like a nightmare that would soon be gone.

Getting back to Page One.
When I woke up, I was already in bed more than three days.
Mark only came once to see how I was doing.
My mother did not say much.
It seemed like she could not care less about him.
I cared though.
There were endless recovery sessions which needed to be done with after I woke up.
It was medication, counselling sessions, rehabilitation sessions and countless check-ups that I could not recall.
It drove me crazy.
It was like they were preparing me for the war.
They were expecting me to fight bravely but I had left my armor and nowhere it would be found.
My old life was gone and be buried down under stacks and stacks of old memories.
I started to complain about everything.
Almost everything.
I claimed that the food was too bad that I could not swallow.
I spat out the food that my mother fed me.
Yeah, newsflash!
My mother fed me everyday like I was a helpless baby who did not know how to use spoon and fork.


It ate me inside. And them too.
The truth was that I was ashamed of myself.
My pride would not allow myself to be this helpless.
I could not go to the bathroom by myself.
I could not even get myself a book without bumping into all kinds of things.
A pathetic mess.
On the top of the list, I could read no more.
That was like robbing the only breath that I ever had away from my lung and now I was gasping for air.
I made my mother read for me but she soon grew tired of it.
To make the case worse, I dreaded the counselling session.
The lady always asked me so many questions that made me felt like she was some kind of detective and I was the suspect.
Mrs. Hay did not like me to keep quiet.
She explained that it was a sign of retreat and I should open up my feelings about being blind and so on and so on.
As if she knew anything about it.
But, I could not trust her,
I knew deep down inside that I wanted to try harder,
I did not want to hurt my parent's feelings.
I knew that I had hurt them way too much already.
They could not handle it better than I did.
"How shes going to survive?"
I woke up for several seconds before I heard this.
My mother sounded that she had aged over the past few weeks.
"Dear, don't give up. We can still try. She just need time to get used to it."
My father tried to sound more encouragingly but it came out rather weak.
"Mrs. Hay said she's in a rebellion stage. She said most patients went through that. All we need to do is just to keep supporting her."
My mother gave a little sigh and I was able to catch that.
"How about the guy? Did he know?"
It was this question that really caught me off guard.
I knew they were talking about Mark.
"I explained it to him and he didn't give much response. He didn't say anything either."
The same cloud of sadness hovered over me again.
It sounded like he did not care.
He did not even care what was going on with me.
He did not even call to check on me.
It was summer time.
He could not be that busy.
My mind started to go all the way through different kinds of situations.
Maybe he was busy.
Maybe his car broke down again.
Maybe.
My mind was searching excuses for him.
"Did the doctor say anything?"
The topic soon changed.
"Mr. Watson said she's getting better. It's only a matter of time before we can get her home."
Home sounded so strange to me,
I had got used to this hospital room and now I needed to get to a new place to familiarize myself with it.
The different was that it was not a new place but it was an unfamiliar old place.

Mark No More.
"Honey, you're sure?"
Now and then my mother would use those kinds of soft voices to address me.
To tell you the truth, I hated it.
It made me felt so helpless.
"Mom, I'm fine. I can make it on my own."
Adjusting my white cane, I tried to make my way to the house.
I knew my father was right behind me.
I could feel it.
I used the white cane to detect objects which were in front of me.
My memory told me that there never was anything in the path except the steps.
But, I could never feel safe unless I had scanned through it.
What I took for granted when I had my vision was now coming back at me.
The one-minute journey was extended into more than five minutes.
"You did it!"
The praise seemed overreacted.
I acted like I did not care.
I tried to make my way to my room.
It was the second last room on the left hand side.
I tried to work on my memory.
"Felly, where you're going?"
I turned at my father's voice.
"I try to find my room."
I sounded casually just to life the weight off the living room.
I needed to get away.
I spent the rest of the morning trying to convince my parent that I was okay on my own.
I just wanted to rest a while in the room.
The first thing I noticed when I closed the door behind me was this box that blocked my path.
I bent down and tried to open the box.
I could not even do that.
I pushed it aside with a sigh.
Maybe I should entertain myself with the fact that I was going to live like this for the rest of my life.
I searched my pocket for my phone and dialed the number 1.
"Hello?" The familiar voice poured through my ear and I almost forgot how much I had missed it.
"Mark, I'm Felly." There was a long pause before he made any reply.
"Oh, what's up?" He sounded a little awkward but I was going to ignore it.
"I was removed from the hospital. I'm fine though."
A long pause followed again. What I expected did not come.
"You'd like to hang out?" I tried to sound as cheerful as I could.
I could hear his sigh.
"Look, Felly. There's a thing. I could not deal with this right now. It's too much for me."
I went blind in a car accident and he told me he could not handle it.
I hung up the phone before he could make any more excuses.
I promised myself no more crying after this.
But, all I did was made way to the toilet and flushed down all my pain there.

The Weird Thing.
"Mom, I'm home!"
I just made my way back from the bookstore.
I heard some strange sounds.
I quickly put down my things and worked my way to the living room.
Suddenly, I felt something beside me.
I did not know how I shall classify it.
Was it a living thing?
It certainly had warmth that I could feel it.
I bent down and tried to use my other senses to help me on.
It felt very soft. I had smooth fur.
When I tried to bent towards it, something moist caught my face.
It felt sticky.
I quickly got myself up and tried to work my mind rationally.
"Mom! Where are you? Mom?"
It was still early. Where had she gone?
"Honey! I'm here!" I heard my mother's footsteps before she reached me.
"What's the matter? I was back there cleaning the store."
She soon caught sight of what was bothering me.
A gush of relief washed through her.
"Felly, don't worry. It is a little present we got you."
My mother patted me on my shoulder and lead me back to the unknown creature.
"It's a golden retriever. He's a guide dog for you."
Now the dog was resting by my side.
I could feel his breath on my legs.
"A guide dog? I thought I was fine using the white cane?"
I wheeled around trying to face my mother.
"You are. But we thought you would be much more safer with a guide dog."
I made no reply to that.
"He can lead you wherever you want to go. He's a smart one. The manager at the center said so."
She tried to convince me but failed.
"Mom, you know I'm improving and I don't like dogs. You know that. They stink."
I tried to make some comments to drive the dog away but he stayed right beside me without any intention to move.
"You should give it a try. You don't like them because you never own one. See how he likes you. He never stir beside you."
I could feel my head buzzing at the last remark that my mother made.
"No, I don't like them and never will."
I stormed off to my room and shut it so hard that the dog trembled.
It left the dog scratching at my door.
I ignored it.
They did not trust me.
They did not believe that I can make it on my own.
And, they got me a guide dog as if I did not have a lot on my plates already.

They never gave up. Love never did too. 
"We talked to Mrs. Cooper. She said it was still early for you to own a guide dog but we could give it a try."
Mrs. Cooper was my mobility instructor.
Sixteen years old was indeed too young to own a guide dog.
It came with responsibilities.
"But dad, I don't like dogs."
I really did not like them.
They were noisy, dirty and they stank.
"Honey, he will lead you wherever you want to go. You'll grow to like him."
My mother still believed that there was a turn in the end of the road.
"I thought you might like to start your training sessions with Spirit by next week."
My father just chose to ignore the grumbling I made.
"No way I'm doing that."
"Felly, you need to get a life. You can't live like this for the rest of your life."
Going out rarely and staying at home all the time seemed like a bad idea in my parent's handbook.
"You'll start Monday. I'll contact the center."
That settled it.
I could feel the dog's presence beside me.
He sure was a big one.
I tried to move away from him but he always knew how to get closer to me.
He tried to follow me everywhere I went.
The only way that I could shut him out was staying in my room.
He could not get in without my permission.

The unexpected came at the expected hour.
The weekend dragged on and the day I dreaded finally came.
Spirit placed himself quietly and obediently beside me in the car.
It was like his destiny in life was to follow wherever I went.
"Dad, do we really need to do this?"
Once the car was out on the road, I tried to turn back to the comfort of my room.
"We've been through this. I'm sure you're going to enjoy it."
I could hear the tension in his voice.
He seemed stressed up.
Did he feel as nervous as I did?
"Fine." I dropped back into my seat and ignored the butterflies in my stomach.
Spirit placed his head gently on my thigh.
It felt so soft.
I did not find it annoying.
"Mom, Spirit's a golden retriever? Then his fur must be gold in colour?"
Spirit nudged my hand as if he understood my question.
"Yeah. His fur is light gold. It shines in the sunlight and it's so soft."
My mother seemed glad that I had questions about Spirit.
"He's trained as a guide dog?"
I tried to pat his head and he seemed to enjoy it.
I could feel his excitement.
"Every dog in the center is. We'll meet up with the others when we get there."
It was not long before we reached there.
I expected to hear endless barks.
But, it turned out I was wrong.
I could not even smell the bad smells.
The air was so fresh that made me wondered whether they ran a vacuum there every other day.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Moon."
Spirit walked confidently beside me as if he was sure of his way.
He tried to lead me to the door but I stood stubbornly beside the car.
He tried to tug at the harness that I was holding.
I did not budge.
"Good morning to you too, Mr. Norman."
I heard some footsteps coming at my way.
"Are you Miss Moon? You shouldn't stand here like this. Let Spirit leads you."
The woman sounded confused.
"I'm Felicia. You can call me Felly."
Spirit still did not give up.
It seemed that he was born as a guide dog.
"I'm Alice Norman. You can call me Mrs. Norman."
I still stood there without knowing my way.
"Come, let me lead you to the training place."
Mrs. Norman did nor force me on the spot.
"Come, Spirit."
Spirit was happy when I finally moved towards where he wanted to go.
He trailed beside me obediently.
The butterflies in my stomach danced in an agitated way that I could sooth no more.
I had no idea where the place was.
I was lead through a long way before I was brought to a room.
It smelled funny in there.
"Felly, you like dogs?"
Mrs. Norman suddenly addressed me in this way and I did not know if it was okay to lie.
"Yeah, I guess."
I chose to lie because I did not want to be ambushed by the other dogs there.
It was not going to happen anyway.
"You know what? They're great companions. I've always believe that dogs have souls. It's like they can see through your pain and cure it for you."
Mrs. Norman sounded so gentle and her voice soon melted my heart.
I soon felt relaxed.
"They do?"
I was seated in the room with Mrs. Norman at my side.
"Everybody's a little broken. We're not perfect. But, it feels like the dogs somehow make it better for us. They can't talk like we do but the bonds we have with them are what help us along."
She sounded like an angel to me.
My heart was lifted at that moment.
Spirit still seated himself beside me and waited for his turn to come.
"Mrs. Norman, I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. But, let's give it a try."
I grabbed onto the harness and hoped that I could get some strength from there.
"Sure."

The First Trial. 
"It doesn't seem like a bad idea after all."
Mr. Moon sounded a great relief.
He was watching his little daughter from the side.
"Yeah. I'm glad you brought it up. Felly's been so upset about herself and about what had happened. I hope Spirit can help her the way we couldn't."
Mrs. Moon hold onto his husband.
It never escaped her eyes.
The tiny twist in Felly's eyebrows.
The way she shut herself in her room all day long.
She was lonely.
She was angry at herself for being blind.
"Spirit's a good one. I'm sure he will do very good for her."
Mr. Norman sounded an approval for them.
Although Felly was too young to own a guide dog but if one never tried one never knew.
"If they progress much better, we could start the training outside at the public places."
Mr. Norman turned towards Mr. Moon who looked so intently at his daughter for fear of losing anything.
"That would be great. I don't know how I should thank you."
The gratitude was a short one but the meaning would stay long in both Mr. and Mrs. Moon's hearts.
"You're most welcome."
At the training side, Felly was making her way through all the obstacles in the path.
She was moving slowly but she was improving.

When we lost not our way.
Nothing had made me felt like this before.
A guide dog required your full trust on him.
Giving your full trust on somebody else to lead you and believing that he will lead you safely away from all the obstacles were not easy.
I moved slowly without allowing Spirit to tug at the harness.
He certainly wanted to move faster but I was not ready.
"You need to trust him, Felly."
Mrs. Norman's advice sounded so far way.
Slowly, I was moving faster.
At the end of the first session, I was able to move at the same pace as Spirit.
They said I did a great job.
I thought it was an easy job but it never was.
I needed to stay calm and give instructions to Spirit.
He indeed was a good one.
That night, I shared my bed with him.
He was a bit taken aback and counted his steps when he saw me inviting him to my room.
I patted the space beside me and asked him to join me in bed.
He was more than happy about it.
My parent felt that too.

When hate was not the word.
"How you're getting on with your life?"
I still needed to meet Mrs. Hay twice a month to "open up my feelings".
"Not bad, I think."
I casually stroked Spirit's fur beside me.
"I see you get a guide dog. What's his name?"
When Mrs. Hay talked with me, she liked to tap her pen on the table.
I did not know why.
I found it very amusing as if she was beating a drum there.
"Spirit. He's a smart one."
Spirit moved straight up upon hearing his own name,
It was like he was proud of his job.
"I can see that."
Mrs. Hay stopped her pen tapping and quickly wrote something down.
"Let's talk about Spirit."
That put me off guard.
"Do you like him?"
I stopped patting Spirit.
To be honest with myself, I was not sure about it.
The first day he came into my house I was all against him.
But, after more than two weeks of training and now he officially became my guide dog, I was not sure about it.
"Felly?" Mrs. Hay tried to get an answer from me.
"Mrs. Hay, I'm not sure about it. Whenever I brought him out, everybody especially the kids would want to play with him. They give all kinds of praises to him. I'm not sure whether I like him as they did."
"Well, you like him then?"
"I'm not sure about it."
I knew it sounded so lame but it was the truth.
It was.
"Understood."
She quickly wrote something down.

The Turn at the End of the Street.
I walked my way home in a buzz caused by the last question made by Mrs. Hay.
It did not occur to me to classify me feelings for Spirit.
I was not sure about it.
I did not even put a name on it.
I lost my attention when I turned around the corner.
I bumped into somebody and I felled back onto the pavement.
It hurt.
Spirit quickly came to my side.
He was barking anxiously at the "somebody".
"Spirit, it's fine. I'm okay."
I patted him patiently.
He stopped barking.
"You're fine?"
Somebody came to my side and tried to pull me up.
"Yeah, it's nothing. I'm sorry. I wasn't paying any attention just now."
I pulled myself up without the help.
"Here's your bag."
"Oh, thank you."
Then, it became an awkward silence.
"I'm Ben. What's your name?"
It is a "he".
"I'm Felicia." I still was not sure whether to leave or not.
"You live here?" He still did not go.
"Yeah."
A lame reply because I was not sure how to response.
"Let me see you home. It's my fault that you felled."
He sounded anxious and worried at the same time.
"It's actually my fault." I sounded an objection.
"No, let me see you home."
I did not know how to scare him off.
"It's your dog? What's his name?"
We started walking and I could tell he was trying to sooth the tense feelings.
"Spirit."
"You study here?" He still did not give up in asking about me.
"No, I have a home education. How about you?"
It was not fair knowing not a single thing about him.
"I'm a twelfth grader at the Phoenix High School."
He was seventeen then.
"I'm home." It was a short walk.
"Oh, goodbye."
He tried to turn to go but stopped.
"Can I call on you every now and then?"
He came back to my side and asked me that.
"I guess."



Finally, I realized.
When we could see no more then only we could see truly.