I looked up, at the golden sky as I stepped out of the Sunflower Hospital, the glass doors sliding shut behind me. It was already evening, and the sun was preparing to set for the day.
I closed my eyes to feel the remaining warmth, instead the cold winds brushed past my face. My eyes jolted open.
How hard I try to feel the warmth of the people around me, something inside keeps telling me to embrace the cold— face a reality I still don't know how it belongs to me.
"It's just what your mind created, gathering the scattered pieces around you into a story. Similar to how you view Seraphina and me!" That was what Doctor Sarah had said.
"Hypothetically, let's say that's the case. Then who are you, Aurelia?" I whispered the question into the void. "Are you someone I've met before? Someone I know?"
"Regardless... I know you're real." I took a step toward a large tree nearby as I caught sight of something shivering. "...Maybe you're just waiting for me to find you."
It was a small, lonely kitten, curled against the bark and clearly in pain. I looked into its eyes, and extended my hand with a gentle smile.
"Hey, kitty! Let's go get you treated, hm?"
That night, I spent my sleep thinking about how it all started. It wasn't as if Aurelia suddenly appeared one day. No, she had been there for a time I couldn't even recall— a presence that felt like it had existed from the beginning.
To me, she was like a shiny liquid in a world devoid of light and colour. The doctors found it strange. They had told me a number of times that it was impossible for someone like me— someone blind from birth who had never seen a speck of light his entire life— to visualize anything.
But for me, the strangest thing was that I started hearing things right after the procedure.
.
.
.
[2 years ago]
Click, clack— click— clack!
The operating room was filled with sterile operating tools in symphony with the steady breathing sounds of doctors present.
Rustle—! A sound similar to dry pages I had spent more than two decades listening to. It must be their surgical gowns.
Although all I could see was absolute blackness, I could sense their intense focused. My body had gone numb from the anesthesia. There was no pain, just a feeling as if some cold and heavy coins are being pressed upon my skull.
I was just a step away from discovering which colour it is, that shiny liquid!
"Haaaaahhh..."
It was a cold and hollow voice— as if someone was trying to say something with broken vocal cords right beside my ear.
With each passing stitch, the sound grew louder and louder, slowly forming into distinct words...
"Diese— ver—ch—e far— de— haa—e ist— er!"
"Diesel verf—e fa—b— de—r haare ist—na— er!"
"Diese verfluchte Farbe deiner Haare ist genau wie er!"
... Words spoken in a foreign language I couldn't understand.