DAMOND CHRIS

FLASHBACK

When I first opened my eyes, an overwhelming darkness engulfed me, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. I could make out no shapes or colors—only the deep blackness pressing down on my chest, quickening my heartbeat. Panic clawed at my insides, forcing its way into my thoughts, and I instinctively screamed, “Ah, help….” 

Moments later, the door swung open with a sharp creak, and a blinding beam of fluorescent light flooded the dim room, momentarily stunning me. “Damond, you’re awake! What’s wrong?” a familiar voice called out urgently, tinged with both relief and concern.

My heart raced as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. “I… I can’t see, Mom. I can’t see you. Is the light off?” The words flew out in a frantic rush.

“What? You can’t? What’s happening? Nurse, call the doctor!” she shouted, her voice trembling with rising anxiety as her footsteps hastened across the floor.

A nurse hurried in shortly after, her movements brisk and purposeful as she began examining me, probing and testing with an efficiency that felt both reassuring and invasive. I felt detached, almost like I was observing myself from a distance, an island in a vast sea of chaos threatening to consume me.

After what felt like an eternity, the nurse signaled for me to follow her, her watchful gaze sharp and intent on ensuring I didn’t drift away into despair. “Mrs. Chris, I need to speak with you in my office, please. This way,” the doctor instructed, guiding my mother through the door. A heavy silence fell over me, their hushed voices forming an invisible barrier, keeping critical information just out of reach.

When my mother finally returned, her face was a canvas of worry, her posture tense and rigid. She quietly sat beside me, her presence casting a shadow over the room. I could sense that something dreadful had happened and tentatively asked, “Where is Desmond?” The moment the words escaped my lips, I noticed her stiffen, her breath catching like a trapped animal.

“Mom, what is happening? Please tell me,” I pressed, each word feeling heavier as a knot tightened uncomfortably in my stomach.

“It’s okay; everyone is fine,” she whispered, but despite her attempt to reassure me, her voice quivered with an unspoken sorrow that shattered the fragile façade she tried to maintain.

“No, everything is not fine. Where is my brother?” The question hung in the air like a thundercloud ready to burst. In that moment, her dam broke. Tears streamed down her face, her expression a mix of anguish and heartbreak as she struggled to find her voice.

“Mom…” 

“Your brother is in a coma,” she finally managed, her voice cracking like fragile glass, sending shivers down my spine.

“When will he wake up? We can wait until we go home together, right?” Hope ignited within me, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw the sadness etched on her face. She began to stroke my hair gently, even as it became clear that her heart was breaking as much as mine.

“No, we don’t know when he’ll wake up; it’s more likely he’ll be in a vegetative state,” she said, the weight of her words pressing down on my chest like a heavy rock.

“Mom, please tell me he’s going to wake up! It was my fault. I should’ve walked slower. I should have stayed close to you guys. It’s my fault,” I cried out, tears cascading down my cheeks as a tide of guilt washed over me like a relentless wave crashing against the shore.

“No, it’s not your fault. It’s alright,” she murmured, her calming presence attempting to soothe the storm raging within me.

I could hear her calling for the doctor from a distance as I pretended to close my eyes, desperate to escape the harsh reality that was uprooting my world, threatening to shatter it completely.

“Dr. Charles, is there any chance of curing his blindness? Please help; he’s still a child. He shouldn’t have to go blind,” my mother’s voice cut through the chaos of my despair, strained and desperate.

“Mrs. Chris, calm down. I’m sorry to say it isn’t something that can heal quickly; it will take time,” Dr. Charles replied, his voice steady yet laced with a gentle sympathy that felt like a cold balm on my raw wounds.

“How long will it take, Doctor? Everything is falling apart. You know the situation; both my sons are struggling. The eldest is in a vegetative state, and the youngest is blind. This is a tragedy, Doctor. Please, help me,” she implored, each word laden with profound sorrow, falling like heavy stones into the silence between us.

“Madam, there’s no solution at this moment, but we will do some research. Don’t worry; the blindness may not be permanent since his eyes are fine. I’ll provide you with a list of medications to help ease his discomfort,” he reassured her, his soothing tone contrasting sharply with the storm of dread swirling in the room.

I listened to their exchange, feeling a heavy cloud of anguish settle over me like a lead weight. Am I blind? How could this be? What is happening to my world?