Through Macy’s Eyes

I awake to the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee. A familiar smell. For a moment, it instantly brings me back to a time before. It brings back a memory of me beginning the day. I can literally feel myself walking across the kitchen floor, the cold tile beneath my feet. I open the window shades and instantly feel the warmth and brightness of the sun on my face. While leaning forward and taking in as much sunlight as I can, I feel my locket fall against my chin. I reach up and place my fingers around it, feeling the cool heart-shaped pendant. A gentle reminder. I pop two pieces of bread in the toaster and search the fridge for my favorite strawberry jam. As I’m pouring my coffee, I hear my phone beep. I take a glance and see that Kay is texting about meeting for dinner tonight. We made plans at our favorite Friday nightspot. An Italian restaurant in the heart of the city. But no time to drool over gnocchi. I have a full workday ahead of me. My toast springs out with the perfect amount of crisp. I smear the jam on and take a bite followed by a sip of coffee, but before I take a sip, I’m jolted back. My memory is crushed by the sound of banging on the door.

It's been 1,095 days since it happened. I try not to think of those times. I try to find hope by holding on to the good memories, like catching the sunrise just before my alarm goes off or seeing my mom’s smile on a FaceTime call. Those are moments I’ll never be able to see again. The banging on the door lets me know that it's time for something. Two knocks mean wake up and three knocks mean it's time to go. This was two. I better get moving. I make my way to the kitchen, feeling my way around the counters. My mother is preparing breakfast for the day. I take a deep inhale of the coffee she gives me as I enclose my hands around the hot mug. A short moment of comfort. She leads me to a chair and guides me to sit down. I feel her cold, thin hand slightly placed over mine. She sets my hand on a small bowl to let me know the food is ready. A bowl of lukewarm mush, hard toast & a piece of fruit. I can’t tell if it’s an apple or a hard plum. As I'm finishing my meal, I hear another banging on the door. This time, it’s three knocks. Time to go.

A loud alarm sounds in the background. I stand outside our door with my mother. Her breathing lets me know it’s her. We never know what to expect anymore. The alarm grows louder and louder as more voices and foot shuffles fill the halls. Murmurs, barely audible “good mornings,” coughs, and even a few tears. Then, silence.

The alarms all stop and the intercom squeaks so loud, I almost feel my eardrums pop. I put my index finger in my ear to stop the horrible sound. Her voice fills the air. It’s very sad because, even though she’s a wicked immoral sociopath, her voice is pretty soothing. If I didn’t know her history, I’d actually take a liking to it. Calming, yet seductive. Now, how could a voice like that do such unspeakable acts of evil?

My mom squeezes my hand reminding me not to flinch. They hate it when you flinch. I stand erect and try my best not to move. The guard stops in front of me. I can smell the patchouli on him. No one can forget that smell no matter how hard they try.

And then it came to me- patchouli. Yes. That was the scent I always smelled walking past the third hallway lockers. It was her smell. Colleen’s perfume bottle she constantly wore around her neck. It was a plastic bottle similar to the bubbles ropes we used to wear as tikes. Childish, yet still a little grown up since— I mean— it was patchouli.

I remember a girl from fourth period Science named Liza, who used to untie it from the back of Colleen’s neck when she wasn’t paying attention.

“Here Jake. Do you smell that? It smells like rank lady parts.”

Liza would be the only one laughing until her friend Debra chimed in.

“Ew! It’s the smell of Colleen’s underwear drawer!” A few kids snickered at Debra’s bullying attempt, but Colleen still didn’t understand what was going on. She was oblivious to the teasing. Then Liza threw the perfume bottle at her feet and Colleen got visibly upset.

She was a frail-looking girl. Fair-skinned with three spaced-out dark moles on her face. One that sat on the top of her nose, one placed slightly above her forehead, and one right beneath at the bottom of her chin. She was tall and lanky with stringy black hair and the whites of her eyes turned red easily from crying. Her parents were well off, so she wore designer clothes, but they reeked of patchouli and frankincense. In middle school, pre-teens were disgusted by hippie scents. Cool for lame Gen X parents, but not so much for the Millennials.

We weren’t close, but we were cordial. She was always sweet and considerate. Looking back, I realized: Colleen was teased relentlessly and I never thought to step in and stop it. That's something that will live with me forever. If only I could've been there for her, maybe I could've stopped that fateful day from happening. Maybe none of us would be in this Hell we're living in today.

We now live in a world of blindness. Not figuratively, but literally. My mother had always lived this way. Well since I can remember, at least. When I was just three years old, she and my father had been in a horrific car accident. My father did not survive, and my mother had so much trauma to her head that it rendered her blind. Something she would have to live with for the remainder of her life.

Things changed the day Colleen took her life. A domino effect that would lead to the worst day in history. She couldn't handle the pressure of the constant jabs of her image. Something that followed her into High school at the peak of social media. I was devastated the day I heard the news. I felt so helpless, so guilty. How could we live in a world so brutal? Maybe if we could see past the outer image, how much more compassionate would we all be? These are things I've always pondered but never thought would become a reality. I guess when you have more money than God, you can make anything a reality.

Consumed with grief and rage, Colleen's mother was determined to change the way the people in the world treated each other. For ten years she worked covertly to invent a laser that could unknowingly be downloaded to your cell phone with just one click. It didn't matter if you were an iPhone user or an Android user, every person that owned a phone in the world was doomed. It all happened at once. Everyone simultaneously became incapacitated. Trains collided, planes crashed, and cars screeched to a halt. There were over 3 billion deaths. Almost half the entire world, gone in those fateful minutes. While we all laid there unconscious, they took everything from us.

I feel another squeeze from my mother's hand. This time her grip is a little tighter. I must have missed something while reminiscing because now I can hear crying. A collective sound of mourning. Before I know it, I am snatched from her side. I can hear her screaming as I'm being pulled further and further away. I can feel my heart in my stomach. I have a horrible feeling that this is the last time I'll be able to hear or feel my mother’s touch again. I hear her voice faintly say, "remember what I taught you and I'll always be with you." They throw me into the back of a van and slam the doors. I never thought I could hear darkness before, but in that moment, I could.

After what seems like an eternity, I feel the van come to a slow stop. I hear the doors open and feel a guard grab me by my arms to pull me out. They drag me into what feels like an elevator. Awkward elevator music has never sounded so frightening before. I hear a ding and then the doors open. They bring me into a cold room and sit me in a chair. I hear quiet chatter and then silence.

"Hello Macy." She says. I know it's her, because it's the same voice I've heard everyday on the intercoms for the last three years. I don't respond. "I know you’re afraid, but you're safe here. I promise.'' I hear her stand up and walk slowly towards me. Her heels clashing the hard floor, making me feel more uneasy. I'm vividly intimidated by the sound of her walk. She slides out a chair and takes a seat about what feels like ten feet away from me. Her presence alone can awake the dead. Her energy buzzes and radiates through my retinas. I've never been able to see auras like mom, but oddly I can see what feels like a red hue surrounding her. Or maybe I'm imagining.

"I bet you're wondering why I brought you here today." She speaks again. I shake my head. She continues, "I know these last few years have been hard for you and everyone else, but it wasn't a choice." I put my head down. "You see the world was only getting worse. People judging others by their differences since before time. Racism, discrimination, bullying. A history that was written in stone. I did not cause this. If anything, I helped make the world better." I almost feel like I'm dreaming because the words that are coming out of her mouth just don't seem real. How could she possibly believe that this world we live in today is better?

"Don't you see, Macy?" She questions. I can't tell if she's being blatantly facetious, or just plain sadistic. I squeeze my knuckles to ease the anger and tension rising in my chest. "I did this for us!" She exclaims. "I know you have felt this pain before. I know you have felt tragedy." I slowly raise my head. "I know you know what it's like to lose someone, and I also know you know what it's like to have people make fun of the only important person in your life." I clench my jaws. "You and I have that in common, Macy. We are bounded by misfortune." She says.

"I know what happened to you." She goes on. "I remember her being at the parent teacher meetings. I'll never forget the way you cringed and the embarrassment on your face as you guided your mother throughout the halls. I could hear the things the kids would say about her behind your back. I know you could too. Colleen would tell me when she came home from school. She always talked about how she could hear you crying in the girl's bathroom when you thought everyone was gone, and you would emerge like nothing had ever happened. Like everything in your life was perfect. I know Colleen wished she could've reached out to you, and I know you wish you could've done the same. But I also know the pressure in High School to act like you're normal and have it all together surmounts everything else. I don't blame you for that."

I turn my head to the side to try to hide the tears rolling down my face, but there's only so much emotion I can conceal. I hear her stand up from her chair and make her way over to me. She places her hand on my shoulder. "Macy, you're here today because I want to offer you a job. I want to offer you a way out." She professes. I don't know whether to believe her or not; so I don't respond. She continues, "I know you have been taught from a young age what it is like to live life with someone who has lost their sight. I need you to be a teacher for the younger kids who fell victim to my treacherous acts. I need you to teach them a new way of seeing the world. I need you to show them that this life is not based on physical looks, but how the world views you from the inside. Macy, I know I have committed unthinkable acts, and one day I'm going to have to answer to God for it. But while I'm still here on Earth, I want to bring forth a new way of living. I want to create a place where Colleen would have thrived. A world she would have been proud of. A world she wouldn’t have taken her life for."

I tilt my head up, only feeling a dim light in my face. I cry hard for the first time in a long time. So many emotions, so many thoughts racing through my mind. How could someone so cold and calculated have such a new positive outlook on life? How could she possibly redeem herself after she committed such heinous acts? I reach up to my neck and feel for my locket. It's something I've always done to compose myself. I sit for a moment. Deep inhale, deep exhale. I think of my mother's words she shouted to me before we drifted apart. "Remember what I taught you and I'll always be with you." She taught me acceptance. She taught me understanding. She taught me forgiveness. I know what I have to do now. I take a deep breath, and say, "I'm ready."