Hybrid: The Awakening

Chapter 3-Diana

"As of today, you are legally blind. I'm sorry."

His words didn't register at first and I found myself shaking my head.

"No, you said I would see until I was an adult! You told me I'd be able to live my childhood normally!"

"And you still will," Dr. Grey falsely claimed. "Having the official label doesn't mean suddenly your quality of life is ruined. Everything will remain just as it is now. The only change will be the requirement for me to give you a guiding cane."

Picturing myself walking like one of those stereotypical blind women with their sunglasses and white stick caused my chest to tighten.

Maybe it didn't change anything for anyone else. But for me it changed everything.

I wasn't Diana, the fierce redhead anymore.

I was Diana. The blind girl.

I felt Dr. Grey place the cane in my hand, and I shoved it back at him.

"I am not using that." I hated the way my voice shook.

Mom took it for me. Her voice was full of melancholy as she said, "Thank you, doctor."

We walked out of the hospital through the waiting room. Even though I couldn't see the people sitting in the lobby, I could feel their eyes all over me. Like they knew what I was now.

I slid into the car and gazed out the window. Dad hopped into the front seat, shaking the whole car.

"You know what, Buttercup?" His voice was too perky for my mood. "I think we're way overdue for a nice dinner. What do you think, Ana? Wanna go eat out? You can choose the restaurant!"

"I just want to go home," I mumbled. My comment seemed to sober him up.

Mom reached back from her seat and rubbed my leg. "Okay, sweetie. We'll get you home."

We drove home in silence. Gazing out the window, I pictured what the scenery must look like. I closed my eyes while taking a shaky breath.

I recalled my younger years, seeing the smiling faces of Mom and Dad. We were visiting the state of North Carolina, taking pictures of the beautiful autumn leaves. We drove to the top of one of the mountains. I looked down and stared in awe at how small the world appeared to be. Even the taller of the trees were specks of red and orange from the view. The height made my stomach twist into a knot, but in the moment I had ignored it.

Those days, I took sight for granted. I hadn't yet been diagnosed with the stupid eye disease so rare that it didn't even have a name. Back then, I would've never thought that one day I wouldn't be able to see the things of everyday life. Now, all I had were memories of the world that were nearly as fuzzy as my vision.

I groaned at my sappy thoughts. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.

We turned into our house's driveway, parking next to the blue Civic that belonged to Ms. Beverly, my sister's babysitter.

My parents and I walked into the house. Ms. Beverly was feeding Cassie, my baby sister, a spoon of some orange mush.

"Mr. and Mrs. Miller!" she exclaimed when she noticed us. "Home so soon?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Mom responded. "Appointments vary from day to day."

Cassie, my baby sister, squealed excitedly and my dad laughed, probably holding her.

"Thank you for taking care of her again," Dad said to Ms. Beverly. "You're welcome to stay for dinner."

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Miller, but I really must get going."