One week later...

 

I sat in the chair by my desk and felt around for my brush. My fingers landed on the handle and I picked it up and held it to my chin like a microphone. I still remembered what singers look like. "haruharu jinagamyeon seoroseoro..." I sang softly, quietly. "...I'll give my life to you." I finished the verse. I didn't try to sing any further. I leaned back in the chair and thought of Ricky. I stood up and felt my way to my bed and after searching for a minute or two I found my walking stick. Slowly I felt my way to my door. I gripped the handle and turned listening for the click. I made my way to the sliding door leading outside to our backyard waving my walking stick from side to side.  My family was still asleep upstairs so they didn't know I was outside. I made my way to the grass. I felt the soft wet grass cushion my bare feet. I listened to the birds chirping so early this sunday morning. A cool breeze blew by twirling my hair against my face and my light-weight summer dress around my knees. and warm sun touched my back. I took a breath of fresh air, it must've been pretty. How I longed to see again. I walked straight waving my stick in front of me. Thunk my stick whacked our fence. I could barely remember what it looked like. I felt around with my hand until I felt the latch of the gate. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going or what I was doing, but I knew I was sick of being babied and being under constant watch. I promised myself I wouldn't go far, I had lived in this neighborhood all my life so even if I couldn't see now I remembered what it looked like. Besides, I  was basically just a dead weight to everyone who knew me, I was worthless. All I did for them was exist while they scurried around helping me do everything, even getting dressed. That's why I had dressed myself today, I didn't care how I looked. I tried fixing my hair too. I wanted to put it in a braid. I held my hand to the fence and walked out of my yard. I heard screaming and shouting in the distance, much like what I had heard at the concert. Footsteps were faint in the distance but they were increasingly getting louder. I turned and started to head back along our fence for the house, but before I even had a chance to scream a hand grabbed my wrist and ran, pulling me behind. I tried to whack the person who grabbed me with my stick and screamed for help.