Prompt:You lose your sight along with everyone else on earth in an event called the great blinding. Two years later, without warning, your sight returns. As you look around, you realize that every available wall, floor, and surface has been painted with the same message- DONT TELL THEM YOU CAN SEE…

I live in a world of blindness. I wasn’t always blind, but after a while, the change makes you forget what the world looks like. I desperately wanted to remember how the flowers looked and how the sunrise beamed through the blinds on a Sunday morning, the way the sky grayed before it was going to rain, but I couldn’t. Two years of blindness has had such an effect on me, two years of lost memories and time. It wasn’t just me who had lost the ability to see, it was every human being in an event commonly known as The Great Blinding. But that didn’t make it any less of a burden. Some people shut down. Others, like me, learned to live with it.

Now, two years later, I still vividly remember the last time I saw my mother. I always wonder as to why the great blindness came to be. Was this a form of punishment? Is there something we don’t know? Would you not if one day you could see and the next not? Wouldn’t you demand answers no one had? Because two years ago, on this very day, I forgot how the world looks, could never manage to complete certain daily tasks, and struggled through life itself. Today, coincidentally, was my best friend’s birthday as well as the day that ruined my life.

Precisely two years later, that morning, as I felt my way through the unorganized piles of differently textured clothes I picked out an outfit knowing that no one would see it anyway. Honestly, in moments like those, I thanked the great blindness. Maybe it was a “blessing” like I was told in the church. I crawled to the doorway, careful to not accidentally knock down anything while reaching my cane. I felt a burning sensation in my left eye that quickly spread to my right, kinda like sandpaper. I let out a little yelp not loud enough to be heard around the house. I rubbed my eyes in hopes that the pain would disappear. The burning ended abruptly as I proceeded to rapidly blink at the sight of a blinding white light. I opened my eyes fully for the first time. Gasped at all the colors. I could see!… but that can’t be right…Was I going crazy? Am I hallucinating? Then, a feeling of joy washed over me as I looked at my reflection in the cracked and dead phone screen. That moment of peace and joy didn’t last long. I noticed a bright red message all over the floors and walls…

“Don’t Tell Them You Can See” was plastered all over in a haunting yet rushed handwritten font. What was that supposed to mean? Before I could process such overwhelming panic, I heard my mom yell from downstairs.

“Honey, are you okay?!”

“Uhhh- coming mom!” I holler, still in shock.

“Sweetie, you sound scared, is something wrong?”

“Ye-“ the dripping red words caught my eyes again. Don’t Tell Them You Can See.

“No no, I’m fine! Just tired, haha!”

As I grab my cane upon instinct, I stumble down the stairs cautiously touching the words on the walls. Don’t Tell Them You Can See. I think to myself, what’s happening? Who am I not supposed to tell? Right as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see my mom. Has she gained back her vision too? Right as I go to approach her, I take a moment to realize how much she’s changed. She looks older than I remember her. Her hair is super matted from two years of low maintenance. Before I was going to ask her if she sees what I'm seeing, I glanced back at the writing. Don’t Tell Them You Can See. I suppress both the urge to scream and cry and instead I analyze her facial expression. Her face showed no signs of even the slightest happiness or cheer, just this strange, unusual, emptiness that bordered insanity staring back at me. I once again looked around at the walls that once guided me, the floor I once crawled on, and the mother I smiled at less than an hour ago. Don’t Tell Them You Can See. So do I act blind?

“Let’s go quickly so we don’t get stuck in a crowd of other people!”

“Oh, okay mom!”

I walked down the street and I was met with people calmly walking feeling their way around, obviously blind. I paused to look around at all the beings we once called humans slowly transform into a creature with a permanently curved spine, a face of pure dread and emptiness, untamed hair, and an unnatural rhythmic sway. I mimic their movements still stiff from the terror of the taunting message.

Don't Tell Them You Can See. I walk alongside my mom acting as if nothing has happened, a black van drives up to us. Three men in tactical gear hop out and surround us. My mom keeps walking but I stop. Then I realize, “I’m supposed to be blind! Why did I stop? What kind of blind person stopped after hearing the patting sound of heavy duty shoes?” I made a split second decision to play along. “Hello?” I managed to fumble out. The men slowly began to close the space between us, circling me like silent hyenas. I rapidly thought, “what would a blind person do?”. I kept walking after hearing no response. They quietly walked alongside mom and I for a little over two blocks. Then, they stopped, turned back around to where we came from, and scurried away. When they got far enough, I let out a sigh of relief. Who were those guys? Can they also see? Did they write the eerie words all over the place? Don’t Tell Them You Can See…

I got myself together by the time we made it to the celebration. The second I saw Melissa in her baby blue dress with a smile that didn’t reach her vacant eyes, I couldn’t help but silently sob. She’s changed so much since the Great Blinding. She looked towards the corridor in which I was standing, frozen. Did she gain her vision?

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“It’s just me, Luna. I didn’t mean to startle you, sorry”

“It’s ok! Great to hear your voice again! I haven’t seen you in like foreverrr!!!”

I stood there, unresponsive. It hurt to see my friend so helpless. I just wanted to run up and hug her and tell her about everything that had happened today but a tight feeling in my gut pulled me away. I looked at the door. Don’t Tell Them You Can See. It felt like the words followed me everywhere I went. For some reason, I feared what would happen if I did tell anyone. I feared whoever wrote that. I feared the three creepy men. But most of all, I feared the unknown….

“Luna, are you still here?”

“Uhh-ye-ye-yea im alright its just uhh….. I like the smell?”

“You positive? You don’t sound too sure about that… you sound like you're hiding something…”

Her intuition never failed to recognize my shifts in emotion and when I'm lying. Since we were younger, she was like my other half, you would never find us apart. Ever. We even convinced our parents to move in next to each other for “efficiency” and “very wise educational matters beyond common intelligence". That all changed when the Great Blindness hit. Exactly two years ago, we were in her kitchen with big smiles on our faces. I vividly remember her luminous eyes and her smile so bright, even a lighthouse would be jealous. The exact second she blew her candles, everything went dark. The rest of that day was a blur of screaming and confusion. A week later, when society realized that this would most likely be permanent, my parents decided to move back to our old house, twenty minutes away. Although that doesn’t seem like long, you need to remember, there was no driving, a bunch of people on the streets, and the blindness just added to the chaos. My parents swore we moved for work but I always felt like there was some other reason as to why we moved. I miss those days when we used to live so close but now we’re left with the sadness of reminiscing. As I snapped back into the moment, I remembered how Melissa was always able to read the room.

“No, no, no. I’m just tired. You know how hard it is to walk all that distance trying not to bump into others!”

“Haha! I was worried there for a second! I’ve never heard you stutter so much! Come on into the party room. Don’t worry, I put a layer of thick tape on the wall for you to trace with your fingers”

I was there having the time of my life with her, Janice from before The Great Blinding, and 2 other friends I vaguely remember from elementary school. Janice and I were really close friends in preschool and the majority of middle school. We sorta just slided our own separate ways after The Great Blindness.

By the time we all got comfortable in a little tent that barely fit us all, we began sharing experiences from our early childhood because that’s all we could remember. We started comparing the small things we remembered. Travis swore sunflowers were red. Janice was sure they were blue. I agreed with Janice. I saw a few of them on my way there. They were yellow with a green stem covered with the same bloody print. Don’t Tell Them You Can See. I truly wanted to correct them but I also didn’t want to blow my cover. Marissa took a deep breath, grasping the attention of everyone around her.

“Do y’all also wonder what you look like and how much our surroundings have changed or is it just me?”

An awkward silence filled the tent. Then Janice shifted uncomfortably on her pillow.

“Me too. I always wondered what my little sister looks like. She was born in 2024 around a week before The Great Blinding. I remember her tiny hand squeezing my finger. Now, I hear her helpless cries as she learns to walk with her hands reaching towards obstacles.”

Marissa smiled as she realized she wasn’t alone. Her happiness was quickly exchanged with grief as she sighed.

“I remember owning a dog named Biscuit before The Great Blinding. After a few months, his food bowl remained full to the brim. We assumed he just ran away, it’s better to sugarcoat such reality.”

That explained the rotting smell covered with fabreeze and the motionless body of Biscuit across the room. How stupid of me was it to compliment such odor? The depressing sadness didn’t last long. I jerked my head towards the door as I heard a familiar holler from outside.

“HELP HE-”

Heavy silence followed.

Air so thick not even a blade could cut through it.

I almost ran to the window but then remembered: I’m supposed to be blind. I tiptoed to the window precisely dodging Mellissa’s long flowy dress. I peaked out and managed to see what appears like a woman’s legs kicking off her shoe as she gets pulled into a black van. Very smart lady for kicking off her shoe, leaving evidence of her abduction. I pity her attempt though because I’d assume no one else would see her pathetic black shoes, well, shoe… wait why does she only have one shoe? Whatever. That’s none of my business. I quietly scurried back to the tent, and just as I opened my mouth to tell them what I witnessed, I read the heart stopping words… Don’t Tell Them You Can See.

Roughly an hour of laughter and good vibes later, I waited for my mom at Melissa’s place.

One hour

Two hours

Three hours

Still no sight of mother…