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The Blinding

It’s been three years since The Blinding. Three long, hard years.


The first year was absolute chaos, society crumbled. Economics, politics and education were completely forgotten. For a year, it was all about survival.


Then, slowly, people began to adjust. Fragile systems were rebuilt, and people managed to teach themselves the simplest of skills.


By year three, everyday life had somewhat returned to normal. An abstract, horrifying version of what life used to be. Then again, my family survived, so I have a lot to be grateful for. I have no idea what it’s like in the rest of the world; we are now confined to the little space we’ve grown to know and understand.


At this point, you must be so confused, I haven’t even explained what happened yet. Three years ago, the entire population of the world became blind. It set in gradually, within the span of about a week. But after that week, everyone lost their vision. Scientists chalked it up to a worldwide gas leak, which permanently destroyed our eyesight, but everyone knows they only said this to keep us from panicking.


Needless to say, their efforts were in vain. Soon, communications with the rest of the world cut out. Shortly thereafter, it was every family for themselves, fighting to survive. With no one able to drive, although people had tried (and failed miserably), there was no transport of any sort. No transport meant no food, no water or any other supplies one needs.


Life was very hard during that first year for my family. It was just my parents, my little brother, my dog Sparky, and me. Unsurprisingly, within a couple weeks after the Blinding, Sparky ran away, never to be seen again, literally. As I said, life was very hard during that first year, but in the second we found a small community. All together, we managed to set up something resembling a society. Today, we even get to go to school again. Granted, the school is our dining room and the only subjects we learn are English and agriculture, but it is still better than nothing. It is honestly surprising how humans can adapt, how even the most absurd occurrences can become a new “normal”.


I hardly remember what it’s like, to see. Sometimes I have dreams in color. They are sacred for me and I never tell anyone about them. As you can tell, my family and I adjusted quite well, given the circumstances. Life became calmer again, for the first time in three years.


Until one morning. That one morning, I woke up and I could see. I could finally, finally see. Initially I only registered blotches of light and some odd shapes. Soon, I managed to make out my room, which I had grown accustomed to feeling, but not seeing. I couldn’t believe my eyes, again, literally. Seeing color was the best thing that had happened in three years. I felt pure happiness.


Until I saw it.


On every single surface of my room, on the walls, the windows, even the floor, someone wrote a message in red paint: “Don’t tell anyone you can see! You are in danger.”



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