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…