I could feel their glares. They loved to do this. I kept tripping over branches and I could feel the cuts on my arms.

They would save me eventually and they would take me home and I would tell mother what they had done. She would tell them to go home and tell brother to go to his room, there would be no dinner for him and I would get sad because I felt trapped. I felt wronged and needed my mother's comfort, but I knew that my tattle-taling would only result in spite from them the next time we played in the woods.

Shh, mother would wrap me up and wipe my tears with a towel. She would look into my light blue eyes, I assume, and tell me I love you. Then she would kiss me on the forehead and tell me to close my eyes. Closing them never made a difference, everything was black, anyway.

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russellch95 (joined over 8 years ago)

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

genres

fiction

tags

blind

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