Finally part 4/5! One more to go and we’re ready! 🙂 again, this might have a few mistakes because I seldom edit when I upload it to my blog. Grammar Nazis… beware.
She had already become accustomed to walking around her home, talking on her cellphone, waiting for the right moment to escape from her home. The first instance she noticed she could move her legs, Pricilla became terrified and confused, thinking it was all just a bad dream she walked over to where her mother was. The kitchen seemed so much smaller, probably because she wasn’t restricted to her old wheelchair. She was tall, something she’d never felt before, reaching right over the counter, taking down a bag of cereal. She swore by her own grave that she was probably taller than your average twenty-year-old.
Shuffling through the kitchen to the living room, she stared at a small oval mirror hanging neatly over the portrait of her mother and father. Her eyes, her hair, everything was as it should be: she was color blind. It was a worthy trade for something like her independence and mobility. Something was off, a portrait of her mother and father? He’s been dead for as long as she could remember… That was the reason why she was wheelchair bound.
“Wait a second,” She shouted out, “If I am not wheelchair bound then that would mean that the accident never happened…!” Looking around for traces of her father, she found them… Carvings, wooden sculptures and clay pots: he was here. “So, we’re a happy family?” Tears fell from her eyes.
Suddenly the darkness of the shallow empty room had been illuminated by the opening of the front door; a familiar figure took a step forward, uncertain as to what awaited him inside the home. Probably, that was all that transpired within her mind, but the reality of the situation was another. Everything played insider her mind, like an old VHS tape, scrolling, and rolling, black and white strips of pictures zooming by till a continuous progression of events linked with the fragments of her memories. Things had to change for this new outcome to prevail upon her reality… now, what happened to that other girl?
Her father walked up to Pricilla, smiling he hugged her. She grabbed on to her shirt and held him in her embrace. Startled, he stiffened. It was as if she hadn’t seen him for the longest time. “Is everything alright, princess?”
“She wiped away her tears. No, nothing’s wrong dad… It’s just, I’m so happy to see you.” She hugged him even tighter.
“Are you crying Pricilla? What’s going on? Are you sick? Is something the matter?”
“Okay, I’ll be here if you need to talk to me. I’m going to get some stuff that your mother wanted me to buy… gosh; she’s like having Caesar as a wife.” He laughed and walked into the kitchen.
That bad sense of humor, she knew it all too well. He was alive; Pricilla not only got the independence she desired but her father as well. Gazing at the ceiling, she smiled. “Today I should probably take a nap outside, for the first time in ages.” She whispered to herself.
Her eyes were still misty, but she had a new lease on life. Something had started that day, she could feel the gears moving forward as they should, and at the same time, she could feel that something wasn’t right. Everything’s as it should be, right? Then, what’s this strange longing? As she laid on the grass, gazing up at the passing fluffy-white, summer clouds, she yawned. “It’s probably nothing…” Her vision faded into darkness.
She woke up to the sound of tiny brittle crystalline shards shattering and scraping on a surface. Looking around, she remembered the place: a cave with massive quartz crystals. Not quite, this place had changed so much since she was here. The massive quartz crystals have been replaced with small crystalline flowers, and the cave was now a sinkhole with a grand view to the massive moon that shone over them. Its silvery light fragmented into a spectrum of colors as they filtered through every flower’s crystal petals. Reflected in every petal, were still images of her memories… a few she could no longer remember. Too many, she could no longer remember. Taking a step back, she realized that there was a lot of her life that she did not know off, in this reality, and she was slowly losing those she already had.
Looking around, she spotted a massive root running beneath the centermost location in the sinkhole. “A root?” She placed one finger on her lips, tapping slowly, thinking as she walked around it. It hit her… The massive tree in her dream!
Everybody’s sacrifice is different, and we all bear what we can, both, physically and mentally tolerate but she was scared. Though three days had passed, she’s still very much scared of her newfound burden. She gave up her legs for seeing in color? That was ridiculous. It was a rip-off; she was swindled. Why in the world would she give-up that which was indispensable to her life by obtaining a solution to her color blindness?
Getting out of bed was already a hassle, not to mention having to look across the room to an empty space dotted with candles and incense. Her little brother had taken the full blow of the exchange… she had messed up her whole life. The deal was off but she had already tried contacting the tree. It was all for naught, she was unable to enter that realm.
Dragging her lifeless limbs over her bed and down into the ground, she missed the freedom of being able to move around on a whim. What was a world filled with colors if she was restrained to the full force of gravity? Light was no longer an issue, the spectrum of reality was no longer a situation; it was the unifying force that holds us down that now seemed to act like a ball and chain to her free spirit.
The bed sheets covered her numb limbs; how she longed to feel the slight tickled of the material as it slowly slid across her feet, she wanted to get off and run to the kitchen, pour a glass of her favorite cereal and walk over to the bathroom to get prepared for classes. Apparently, those were privileges she had given-up for seeing a measly world dominated by three colors.
Holding out her hand, grabbing a hold of the edge of her bed, she slid down to her wheelchair. She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Her vision was still very much heavy, why did she wake-up so early? She looked over at her cellphone: 5:00am, Saturday. Yes, it’s too early for her to be putting up with a world made for the physically able. Her hair fell down her shoulders as she rested her head on the back of the chair. Cassandra had never noticed how blonde her hair was, or that it was blonde, for that matter. As she held on to the long strands of hair, she played with the tip of her long hair, as her blue nail polish hid amidst the gold that shone with the rising sun. Smiling, a bitter shallow attempt at joy, she grabbed a pillow and placed it on her back. The darkness of the sun, glimmering with a faint light of a sunrise, sang to her a song of deep dreams and hopes. She fell asleep.
Everything had changed, the open field filled with flowers had been replaced with small lonely stalks covered in icy-cold petals… swirling around like a rollercoaster, around its one and only green support. A field covered in ice and life, a strange combination. The field was no longer alone; it was surrounded by mountains whose far distant peaks were covered in a familiar white. A cold breeze maneuvered through the crystalline semi-living structures as the field rose and fell with the passing air current. Slight elevations made this realm so distant to the place she knew before.
The sun was obscured by a slight mist as a large root structure revealed itself with the passing mist. Images zoomed by, memories she knew were not hers. Whose was it? Were these memories of this new life? No, impossible… Why are they in black and white?