I, don't remember much about my birth or life before the darkness. If there really was anything before that.
Though, in such dread... Whispers of people, the feel of warm yet distant touch, were all that I could make out. Neither able to perceive the surroundings nor have the ability to even diplace myself.
Back then I didn't hold much value to life or thought anything of it. I was just a child — nothing more. One who didn't have a destiny to accomplish, who didn't know the value of the word "family", let alone understand it. And finally, one who saw no worth in ever having existed.
Yet, I! Still alive! Spent my days on a single spot. Occasionally being moved from here to there, all the while being entertained by the whispers of others:
"Why doesn't he cry? Is he cursed?" Said one!
"For him to have a body so frail and blind altogether. One would think of karma being at work here." Whispered the other.
"But isn't it strange for a child his age to be this calm to the point of being a corpse. One would wonder why they bother raising him." Replied another.
As such, I carried on living, waiting, hoping for the day this all ends. Where I'd be at peace. Though, I had no thought on what it might feel like. Yet, I kept waiting and expecting. But as you might already know about life itself — it doesn't follow the pace you set for it.
***
***Month of ***day of the year***
"-ake up! Hey! *** Wake up!" With a hurried tone, I was forcefully woken up by a familiar voice. Though, reluctant to do so. I sat up rubbing my eyes, and gradually opening them to face the assailant. I was met with, void!
Though such scenery is nothing new to me. Yet, it always gives me a slight fright.
"*** Get the kid dressed up and ready we don't have much time!" Yelled someone with a voice closer to that of a man.
By the sound of his voice, I'd say he's in front of me. His heavy breathing, the sound of shoes rustling on the floor as if there's earth stuck beneath them — one could probably guess where he's been.
Though, I understand why he'd be out of breath and all given how cold it is. But why's he—.
"*** What happened?" Replied another rushing rapidly down the stairs.
The voice of the other sounded more masculine. But the footsteps were light, quick — too light from the voice they came from.
In response to the voice, my assailant slowly backs up. With each fading step being accompanied by the rustle and screeching sounds of the floor.
Coming to halt after some steps, he yells,
"No time to explain — get him dressed! We need to leave now!"
I didn't know why he was in a hurry. I didn't care much. And frankly, I never did.
Though, these are thoughts unlike those of the blind. It's different!
I thought that as I stared at the trembling light, in the form of a man before me.