What happens when you can't even recognize your own parents, but you're able to identify the most notorious playboy in school? //
Asher Thomas lives in a world where she isn't able to recognize people's faces, including those of her parents and even...
After a few more days in the hospital, the nurse releases me. She gives me a hug, wishes me a fast recovery, and requests that I don't come back requesting a CT scan alone anytime soon.
Dad enters the room as soon as she leaves, ending his shift a few hours early and still in his work attire. "Hey there," he says, taking my hand. He helps me out of bed gently, as if handling a porcelain doll.
"Hey yourself," I greet. Behind me, Sofia picks up a suitcase full of clothes that Heidi dropped by for me. The two of them follow us outside as we begin our slow trot to the parking lot, heavily weighed down by my slow pace.
Suddenly, Heidi calls for us to stop. "Your nametag is in my pocket," she says, handing it out to Dad. He laughs, accepting it from her. However, his chuckle is cut short. Beside him, Heidi and Sofia have stopped breathing.
"Asher ..." Sofia pivots to me, eyes round. She tips her head in dad's direction. "Who is this man beside you?"
I snort. "Are you kidding?"
Sofia's eyes are still bugging out of her head, scaring me slightly. "It's Dad," I say, just so the three of them can stop looking at me as if they've seen a ghost.
Heidi suddenly lets out a sob, and Sofia wraps her in her strong arms, crying into her shoulder. Dad claps two hands across his face, bowing his head. I smother a laugh, not knowing how to react. How does one react when her guardians suddenly start weeping?
"Oh, Asher," Heidi breathes, wrapping me up in one of her arms. Confused, I gingerly rest my head on her shoulder, just for the spite of it.
"God bless," Sofia whispers, staring up at the sky. Tears stream down her cheeks silently. "God bless."
That's when it dawns on me – I was able to identify my father without his nametag. Without his overcoat, with one glance at his face, I matched his identity.
At first, I don't believe it. I pinch myself repeatedly, than slap myself a few times, just to make sure I'm not dreaming. Even after digging my nails into my palm, I still question if it's reality. This cannot be my life. Can this be my life?
A gasp racks my body as I think of a life with names matched to faces, people I can recognize. A new beginning. A new life.
My brain runs through a slew of hazy 'thank you's' as the four of us do the most cheesiest thing imaginable and cry in each other's arms, wrapped up together in the middle of the parking lot.
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Once we get home, still winded from our new discovery, Heidi calls my surgeons. She asks what the hell just happened, and they seem just as dumbfounded as we are. "We were able to get all of the tumor out during the surgery," one of the doctors' muses. "Perhaps her face blindness was caused by that. Without it, her disease is gone."
Gone. I don't believe it.
Eighteen years of wishing for a normal life ... and suddenly, I am able to live my dream. I close my eyes, picturing Chloe. Her painted lips and sly smile ... it's there, behind my eyelids. Excitedly, I picture Dad, and Chris, and Heidi and Sofia, even Mr. Riley. All flash in my mind in a constant stream, each face clear and vivid. I am still not used to it, this normal-life thing. I cannot go a single second without reminding myself, then getting star struck all over again.
There are miracles. They surround you, some big, some small. For me, every second is one.
