The sun was biting my back just like any other sweltering day in this place. It was my third month in this place, and so far, my coordination skills have improved by a country mile or more, depending on a person’s perspective. Ever since my first day in the “academy of the blind”, as many students call it, the trainers-slash-teachers-slash-doctors were at full intent on making me as coordinated as I was when I had my sight. “Blindness is not an excuse for you to be hindered,” one had said. “The real test is how you overcome that disability and carry on with your life, blind or not,” another had said. I frankly don’t know whether or not they tell those lines to every blind patient-slash-student they have around here but nevertheless, I stopped being pessimistic about my condition and accepted that this was my fate – to roam a world of darkness, to navigate upon the path of obscurity. Even until now, I lived under those principles. Inevitably, I would chronically miss the idea of being able to see, I mean, who wouldn’t? But reality would then smack me in the face and told me that there wasn’t any going back. Life wasn’t built with an undo button so I might as well live with it.

“Donghae, hurry up! I’ve finished placing the hurdles. All I’m waiting for is for you to get ready!” my trainer, Mr. Young, called up.

I grunted. I wasn’t particularly in a good mood today. Maybe it was the heat that has gone to my head, or the fact that I didn’t get enough sleep to suffice my energy. “Alright, alright! I’m coming!” I called, slightly vexed.

    Three months here wasn’t much of relaxing stay, either. It would be fair to say that it was twice as hard as a normal school, and that was because the teachers here kept pushing you to your limits in order for you to surmount your disability. I wouldn’t say they were harsh, because they were very friendly once class and trainings were over. But whenever it’s time for business, their congenial sides are immediately and shocking replaced with their stern sides. Newbies however, are somewhat exempted from their pushy side for at least a couple of days, just enough time for them to adjust to the new surroundings. After that, the trainers treat them just like any other student here. Unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way.

     I flexed my muscles, conditioning myself that it was training time yet again. I could picture out Mr. Young in a sweatshirt and jogging pants, even though I have never seen him before. I imagined he would be like one of those wrestling champs in television, but I figured that would be too stereotypical so I ruled that out from my imagination a long time ago.

“I’m ready,” I called, jogging in place to condition my feet.

“On my whistle,” I heard Mr. Young call. Judging from the volume of his voice, I judged that he was at a fair distance from where I was standing. “Ready, set––” then the whistle was off.

I bolted into a sprint, feeling the air around me. At once, I felt glad to run again, to feel the raw energy coursing in my muscles, just waiting to be expended. Instinctively, I jumped. I developed this impulse on recognizing obstacles even though I couldn’t see them. It took several trainings for me to perfect that, and usually I had gotten several injuries during the first trainings. I made jump after jump, but careful to maintain my speed. In these trainings, one’s sense of anticipation and agility are both tested – a complex pair wherein one needs several simulations to perfect such skills. After making the final jump, I affixed my sightless eyes into empty space and asked, “How well did I do this time?”

“Outstanding.” The voice came inches in front of me this time, signifying that I have indeed done well this time.

“Time?” I inquired.

“Twenty-nine seconds. That’s a new record on your part.”

“Just on my part?” I pouted. “What is the overall record in hurdles in this school, anyway?”

I could imagine Mr. Young smile as he blurted out his response, “Nine seconds. Accomplished by Hong Young Wan, he was one of the best blind patients we had around here.”

“Had? So he’s gone away from here?”

“Yes, I believe about three years ago. He became blind due to an accident, similar to yours. Although more tragic,” he explained. “Young Wan and his parents were involved in a fatal car accident. His parents died on the spot, while he was rushed to the nearest hospital. He woke up from a coma several months later, greeted by darkness. He was then told that he was blind, and that his parents died months ago.”

“That’s kind of harsh, spilling the beans after a guy just recovered. How did he take it?” I asked.

“Naturally, he was overwhelmed. He passed over a stage of extreme sorrow. Nurses would hear him cry until late at night, mourning his devastating losses. They had to sedate him occasionally, for his cries would wake up the other patients from their sleep. But after the sedatives wear off, he would cry out his lamentation yet again. Eventually, his aunt took him in and cared for him. But when things became too complicated for her to handle, he brought him here. He wasn’t the best student at first, but through time, he really did excel. He said it was his revenge at death.”

“Wow, that guy was really serious, huh?”

“More or less. The accident really took a serious toll on him.”

“That’s kinda cold,” I commented.

“You try being the one who lost both of your parents and your sense of sight at the same time. Let’s see how you’d react,” Mr. Young countered, both sarcastic and serious.

I smiled. “I wouldn’t like the least of it.”

“I would be surprised if you would.”

Sarcastic old chap, I thought amusingly. “Mark my words, Mr. Young. Someday, I’ll beat that record. And you’ll end up telling my story to the other blind patients,” I vowed.

“Don’t count on it,” he challenged. “You’re dismissed. Rest up, I know you need it.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I walked away from the grassy meadow where I was standing and back to the building. Over the months, I’ve spent several hours navigating the building by myself. My room was on the seventh floor, second door. I felt my way towards the stairwell and began ascending towards my room. Well earned rest, here I come! I thought, while gripping the handrails lightly. Upon reaching the seventh floor, I walked for a couple of paces then faced right. Stretching my hand, I felt what was in front of me just to be sure. Sure enough, there was a wooden door. Reading the inscription in Braille, I knew I was in the right room. I took the keys out of my back pocket and twisted the lock open.

The fragrant scent of the room greeted me upon entering, and it was very welcoming. I took my clothes off, wiped the sweat off my body and changed into fresh pieces of clothing. Satisfied, I took my soiled clothes to the container wherein the school’s dry cleaners collect used clothing to be washed. I jumped to bed whose softness swallowed my entire presence. Turning the air-conditioning on, sleep eventually got the best of me.

     My eyes opened who-knows-how-many hours later, awoken by the sound of soft tapping on my door. Standing up groggily, I opened the door slowly. A female voice spoke:

“Sir, you have visitors waiting for you in the main lobby.”