Blinded Trust

Stumbling down the road, she let her senses guide her. She knew exactly where she needed to go, but finding it was a different matter.

The road that had once been so familiar now seemed like a maze – surrounded by unknown turns, smells, noises. Was there always this much noise?

It was all too overwhelming.

She tried to search through her mind for the way. She remembered the cobble road and the stone wall covered in draping vines, decorated with small red flowers. But how could she find it now. Now that everything was dark … or maybe red. She didn’t know.

She was trapped in her mind, circling every thought. Round and round until she was dizzy. But was anything moving? Maybe not.

The world was spinning.

A gust of wind sped past her side as a deafen horn blared out somewhere to her left. She stumbled backwards. A road. She must have been too close to the road. In road? Maybe she had gone in the road.

She was lost. And terrified. And she could feel the tears being to build up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She would not cry, goddammit! She had somewhere to be, and somewhere to get too. She had gotten this far; she knew she couldn’t give up.

Instead, she reached up to wipe her eyes, but there was more dampness surrounding them than she had thought. She wasn’t crying…

She couldn’t see the stain it left on her skin.

What a sight she was for anyone walking by. But she knew this part of the country was usually abandoned. The person she needed to see didn’t often welcome visitors. She was lucky she even knew where to find them. Maybe she was the only one in the world.

Trying to regain her balance, she reached out to her right, and – thank goodness! – her palm was met with the rough surface of a stone wall. She moved her hand along, tracing her fingertips over the creases in the stone, the cracks, the erosion. All so familiar under her skin.

A breeze carrying the scent of the roses drifted under her nose. She filled her lungs with it, consuming it greedily. Hungary for the feeling of it, she devoured it. Because it meant she was getting closer.

She followed the path down, and eventually the feeling of tiny pebbles underneath her boots gave her the relief she needed. A weight lifted off of her chest as she continued, knowing it wasn’t far, help was close by.

Finally, the wall came to an end.

Her hands were sticky -with blood she imagined- from the thorns on the roses. But she didn’t care. She had arrived.

Slowly, she made her way up the stairs, almost crawling on all fours to find her way. Taking one at a time, she came to the door.

Slamming her fists onto the splinted surface, she stayed on her knees- it was slightly more comfortable than swaying on her feet. She pounded the door, one fist after the other, punching and grunting until finally…

“What are you doing here?”

The voice was cold, chilling. It sent a frightening chill down her spin, as though a snake was embedding itself into her skin. She knew she would be met with hostility – it was a price she had to pay for the past, but the voice was soothing, nevertheless. Familiar.

“ I need help.” She panted, breathing hard as she kneeled at their feet, completely exhausted. She kept her head down as he heard the woman come closer.

“Why is that?”

The woman must have crouched down besides her; her voice was much closer to her face than it had been before, closer than she wanted her to be. She didn’t want her to know…

“Because,” she tried to catch her breath “Because there’s someone out there that I have to deal with that’s worse than you.”

The woman scoffed.

“Contrary to what you might think, you are not the worse person I’ve ever had to face. And I …”

The woman leant in closer, almost worried for the broken woman clutching the door frame despite its splinters. Her head remained down, partially covered by her dark hair that fell forward. Despite that, she could make out all the red.

“And you what?”

Her changed tone was obvious, she was calm but concerned. In all the years of knowing one another, never has something so drastic as this ever happened. Neither of them ever showed defeat, any sign of weakness yet here they were, the woman – bleeding and disorientated, came to her for help.

It was all too much.

“And I…” she stuttered through the words that were thorns in the back of her throat. She made a choking sound, something the woman had never expected.

Crying, she realised.

She was crying.

Something was seriously wrong.

The woman carefully reached forward, hoping that she would see her movement and either except it or move away. When she didn’t react, she reached further, pushing past the fallen hair and touched her jaw.

She jerked back suddenly, losing her balance, and falling backwards towards the sharp edges of the stairs. The woman jumped forward, grasping her arm.

Only through the commotion did she realise her problem. Her eyes were covered in semi-dried blood, and face was a mess of random scratches, some deep, some not. Most seemed shallow enough, but as she inspected her further, her eyes were pale, cloudy in colour and seemed unfocused.

“They blinded you?”

She nodded.