L O S I N G those who were once C L O S E [Kiah]

Lost and scared...
Losing what he most desires...
...TURNS HIS LIFE AROUND....
Red Jay

The fight with storm seemed like it had ben weeks ago, but in truth it had only been a few days. But in that few days I had lost more than I could even imagine. The fight with storm was something that could be forgiven, that could be forgotten… but the death of Jabber? No. That couldn’t be forgiven- or forgotten. The whole family has been affected, and even though I didn’t even know him that well it still affected me in way that I could not even explain. I felt as though a piece of me had been ripped away, just another piece of me which had been torn away- another piece of me which I had held on tightly too was gone, and just like my sight, no amount of wishing and praying would bring it back.

Just the same with Jabbers death. Everyone wished for him to come back but he was gone, he was gone and never coming back.

The sound of the rain tapping against the old wood of my bedroom roof, and I take a moment to listen to the gentle tapping. It reminded me of when I was younger. Every winter when it was raining I used to sit by the window, listening, watching as small droplets of water landed on the windows before dribbling down the glass, racing other drops as they race behind the one in lead, eager to catch up. I had loved it, loved to watch the different routes that the water took, I loved the way drops dodge other splashes of water- I used to watch for hours and hours so engrossed in the water that ran down my bedroom window. Now? Now I have no choice but to listen to the water. I cannot watch it run down my window, I cannot watch it hit the surface of a puddle and watch the small ripples, I cannot watch the way it turn earth that was so dry and to dead to earth that is muddy and alive.

I cannot see anything, nothing at all.

Heaving a sigh I pull my blankets away from my small body before tumbling out of my old wooded bed- the wooded planks creaking in reluctance as I slid from the mattress of my bed and onto the floor. My two feet hold my body steady and I wander over to my closet, feeling around for a moment, for anything, anything that felt soft and warm in my fingers. My fingers close around a jacket and I slip it over my shoulders before moving over to my bedrooms door.

Okay. I can do this. I do this every day, and every day I mange, today is no different. Pulling open the door I step out into the hallway- but unlike usual I run into something hard and scream out loud. I have no idea what I have walked into but I do know that this thing that was blocking my way has not always stood where it stood now. Taking a pace back I put a hand to my face, touching the tender spot of my face. It had taken the brunt of the hit and ached dully. Why? Why would someone put something big, and hard, outside the room of the blind kid?