Quarry
A Story Every Day in 2024 June 18th 170/366
I look at myself in the mirror. Today is a great day. I get to re-form. I get to be able to feel whole again.
But I'm not feeling it. I should be excited but I'm not. I'm actually filled with trepidation. And fear.
I am scared. I am scared that I will look weird. For a weird-looking woman, this is a strange way to feel. I don't want to be a freak anymore. I don't want to cry again but faced with my face, I struggle to control my emotions.
I'm tired.
When they first gave me the diagnosis, I was grateful for the fact that something could be done. They could save my life. The relief was enormous.
Once that settled, the realisation that I would never be the same again sank in. Like a brick to the face. I was going to lose my eye. Live, but lose my eye.
The operation went well for an eye extraction. The tumour went with it. That was the deal. Bizarrely, I don't feel so different. One-sided maybe but I can see and move and watch just like I did before.
It was when the dressing was removed that I realised that I was less. I was unfamiliar. I looked at the shape of my face and my body trembled, tightened and clenched as my brain registered its ocular oddity. Where have I gone? I'm more than just an eye and yet, I'm not there.
Instead, I am quarry: my face has been mined for badness and I am a target for others who don't know my back story but fully appreciate my appearance.
I hate their eyes. I'm not envious but I detest their scurrying looks, like skittering scared mice, landing and then escaping before they can be caught. They are invidious.
I get a new eye today. I get something to replace mine. I'm told they are much more advanced in this field nowadays. It is so much more than just glass.
And I want something there, to replace the absence. I want filler, not a patch; an eye for an eye.
Please let it be good. Please. Please let me look normal.
***
364 words
I watched a programme about people who had had operations or accidents and, as a result, had received damage to their faces which rendered them more noticeable to the observer. All they wanted was to blend, so I thought I'd write a story about it.
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170/366
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Comments (14)
Rachel, this is a powerful story! It's so raw and honest about the emotional journey that comes with a life-changing medical procedure. The part about looking in the mirror and feeling trepidation is really relatable. It's normal to be scared about change, even positive change. You did a great job capturing the internal conflict between relief at being alive and fear about losing a part of yourself. I understand why the stares from others would be frustrating. People can be insensitive without meaning to be. I'm hoping the new prosthetic eye will help you feel more whole again. It's amazing how advanced technology has become! This is a story that will stay with me. Thank you for sharing it. Please keep writing!
You watch some interesting shows Rachel and I love what they inspire in you!! Great work here!! I really felt the envy and embodiment of the MC as you brought us into her mindset.
You did a fantastic job on telling this, Rachel!!!
Love this! "When they first gave me the diagnosis, I was grateful for the fact that something could be done. They could save my life. The relief was enormous. Once that settled, the realisation that I would never be the same again sank in." Really like that shift as the realization sets in. Also really like the "eye for an eye" line near the end.
Wow. I think this was great. I always think it must be so hard to endure something like this. I don’t think anyone wants to stand out for the wrong reasons. As always you write with such heart and empathy.
Really compelling work, Rachel! Really opened a window into this character's heart in such a small piece.
Fantastic title/metaphor! This is really excellent! You've captured an intense range of emotion in this character. "I hate their eyes. I'm not envious but I detest their scurrying looks, like skittering scared mice, landing and then escaping before they can be caught. They are invidious." was absolutely brilliant
Your words are extraordinary and deeply inspiring!
May the journey toward healing and finding a new sense of self be filled with hope and positive outcomes. Thank you for sharing!
Extraordinary! You make me believe, Rachel!
Well-wrought and so insightful! I have a friend who lost almost all his sight due to a brain malady. He now only sees out of one portion of one eye, though both still appear to be fully operable. Nevertheless, for Father's Day, one of his sons got him an eye patch with a googly eye on it. We all had a good laugh at that. Point being, when we learn to laugh at ourselves, the opinions of would-be detractors are rendered meaningless.
This is wrenching. Deftly done!
My father in law experienced this. He was humorous about it, but it stung.
Oooo, invidious is a new word for me. An eye for an eye, literally, lol. Jokes aside, I'm glad she's getting a new eye. Hope she feels content with it.