Blind boy and dying girl | Teen Ink

Blind boy and dying girl

February 17, 2016
By mer_nsumbu GOLD, Leeds, Other
mer_nsumbu GOLD, Leeds, Other
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

You only get one shot at a first impression
And she blew hers
We bumped into each other that day
I heard the fluttering of books and papers  like dove wings
She woudn’t let me help her pick them up
So i let her pick them all up
One by one
Until at last, she stood up, blowing a cool wind of frustration at me
“what are you looking at?”

 

What was i looking at?
Callous hands, attitude of a drunk
The smell of sandlewood
Up to no good

 

Did i bump into her, or did she me?
I remember the collision, the edge of her books dig into my chest
I’ve always known the feeling of all the air being knocked out of you
Sorry!... Are you tired?
“excuse me?”
Err, you seem tired, you know like restless
“thanks”
No- i just meant-
“leave it”

 

What’s your name?
“What is this? 101 questions?”
I’m just curious, there’s never anyone here our age
I hear a smile in her voice
“i don’t like to familiarise myself with scrawny boys”
I like her

 

I think she likes me
She moves on, i follow, intrigued, having to catch up every so often
I  don’t know where we’re going but since we’re just walking, i guess there’s no harm in it

 

How long have you been here?
“this corridor? Talking with you? Too long”
No i mean this hospital
“look, i’m flattered, really, but i’m too busy dying. In peace, so if there’s anything you want to know about me, ask my nurse or better? Don’t”
I’m sorry

 

“don’t apologise for something you don’t mean”

sorry,can i touch your face?
“you what? I bet you’re real smooth with the ladies huh”
Only my carer. Russian. She takes good care of me. Smooth hands
I hear a laugh in her voice for real this time
Maybe this time it’s enough

 

“so why are you here...”
Dylan
“Dylan”
Visiting my mum.
She doesn’t apologise.

 

This annoys me for some reason so I move away, feeling around the ward with my stick
“blood makes me feel sick”
So what, that’s normal?
“i’m afraid of needles”
Errm why are you telling me this?
“I have this habit of saing too much all at once or nothing at all.i hate talking about my condition, i am more than my condition. once it kills me there will be nothing left... i don’t wanna die remembered in past tense”
Ok, leave me alone. Look i didn’t want to bring up-
“Dylan, it’s ok, i need to get used to talking to strangers, all my friends become one”
So?  i’m your friend?
“for a couple of months”

 

“can i come with you to see your mum?”
she won’t wake. I fear the day she does is the day they turn the lifesupport off. She just lays there, cold.I mean, her hands are still her hands, they’re still warm.
“your lucky to love her, you know that? i wish someone showed me that much devotion, how much the heart is capable of.
That's your problem, your're already referring to yourself in third person.
"The problem, Dylan, is that i believe in true love,late French nights watching bad tv and drinking wine in the dark, isn’t that  sad?”

 

Saorise died mistaken a few months later
I suppose it makes me a coward for not telling her how i felt
But i heard she punched the first guy that told her that he loved her

I don't question why he loved her, you only had to hear it in her voice
But i loved her , i loved her the way teachers favourite that naughty kid in the class, concealed and bottomless.

 

I just wanted her  to know that my mum made it. her hands are still her hands, still warm. And btw my carers hands are still smooth. But that still means that they’re the total opposite of hers but  i suppose that what made them hers.They were imperfect, tough, they were Saoirses hands.

We bumped into each other one day in the hospital, she carried books she knew she did not have enough time to read but my Saoirse was not a defeatist. I heard them fall to the ground, fluttering like angel wings. She never read any of Charles Dickens work because “how can you trust anyone with the word d**k in their name”?

she hated that people could never pronounce her name. Her name was “ironic” and “stupid”. she hated needles because blood made her  feel sick.  She hated everything over nothing and knew everything about nothing but for someone that knew everything, she never knew it all. All long she thought I was saving her, but it was her that was saving me. It was the first time in weeks, i found the courage to see my mum, knowing i was the reason she was in there in the first place. She was driving me to a game; i wanted so badly to be at. Just to hear the roar. The excitement. We crashed into a tree,mum was hospitalised, but i came out with a few minor injuries.She doesn’t hate me for it so i suppose i should stop hating myself too, i had Saoirse for that right?

There’s nothing sad about believing in true love.Saorise had it all along.
i just wanted her to know that



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