AUTHOR'S NOTE AND A WARNING TO READERS: This is a loving story that deals with a few tragic and sensitive elements. The main character - Faith - has recently lost her eyesight, and I tried to write the whole story without really describing what things look like much, focusing more on the other senses. I hope you'll enjoy this romantic - but dramatic - tale.
It is a work of fiction, and all of the characters in the story are above the age of eighteen.
All of my work - including this one - is copyrighted. © Devinter.
--- BLIND FAITH ---
Some siblings grow up with a tangible animosity between them, but not Faith and Noah. As children, they had been inseparable. All throughout their early years, they had played in the woods near their grandparent's house, gone swimming together, climbed trees, collected insects, built a clubhouse with sticks under an old oak tree, and explored the world riding their bicycles with the wind in their hair and freedom in their hearts. Faith had always been a bit of a tomboy and had grown up much like her big brother - and although they spent less time together as they got older, they both knew that they would always have each other's back. That they could count on each other. In fact, they had made a pact one day when they were still in elementary school to always be the best of friends. They both promised the other that no matter what happened, they would always be there for each other. Faith reminisced about those days a lot. The colourful vibrancy of all the sight she had seen.
Faith had beautiful eyes, in shades of green that intensified towards the pupil. Her irises were a little large, her eyelashes long and thick, and for the first 16 years of her life they had served her perfectly well. But that was before her diagnosis. Seemingly out of the blue, she had gotten Multiple Sclerosis, an autoimmune disorder that attacks the myelin sheath around nerve cells, creating areas of dead tissue in the brain. And over the next couple of years, Faith had suffered from one painful seizure after another. Her life had taken a rapid and permanent downward turn.
"You took your medicine, honey?" their mother asked as she placed two plates of pancakes on the breakfast table for her children. The aroma of butter and cinnamon wafted up towards Faith's nose. Noah thanked her quietly but was otherwise silent.
"Yes." Faith said with a sigh. "I did it right after waking up, mom. Same as every day."
"Want me to cut your pancakes for you?" their mother asked in an effort to be helpful. Suzanne had been like that ever since her daughter's diagnosis. Faith just shook her head. She needed to get used to doing things by herself. Unlike people who were born blind, she had grown to rely on the sense of sight so severely that it was going to take considerable effort until she learned how to rely on touch, hearing, and smell alone. Across the table, she could hear how Noah began cutting his pancakes with vigour into bite-sized pieces and quickly transferred them to his mouth with small knife and fork movements. "Oh, honey.. I think your shirt is inside out."
Faith instinctively tilted her head down, as if to check. "I didn't realise..." she said, and before long her mother was helping her undress. She could do it by herself, of course. But fact of the matter was that she had become far more helpless than ever before, and her mother just naturally wanted to take care of her now. Seeing her daughter like this was hard for her too, Faith realised, so she usually didn't make a fuss and just let her mother help her out with things. "Mom, not in front of Noah," she whined as the shirt was pulled over her head, exposing her pale skin and her brassiere.
"Sweetie, he's your brother, and I'm sure he's seen half-naked ladies before," their mom said in a reassuring voice.
Faith huffed. She wondered if Noah was looking at her. He didn't say a peep. Once, Faith had been really skinny - but was now a bit larger. Her doctors said that she was still at a healthy weight, but all the same, she had gained it rather quickly, and was no longer quite as thin and flat as she used to be. It bothered her more than she liked to admit, because she was worried that a few years down the line, she'd look fat. And somehow, having her older brother see her when she wasn't at her best, it felt awkward. She always wanted to look her best for him if possible.
Noah had been gone for most of Faith's most difficult years. Away at college. And now that he was home again, having recently graduated with a degree in Business Management, he seemed to have no real idea what to say or do to cheer her up during her darker moments. He was so cautious around her. Like she was a fragile porcelain doll who might fall apart any second. She was still the same girl he used to play games with as a child, when they would pretend that they were superheroes together, ready to bravely face any challenge. But now Faith was depressed, and it seemed to be infectious. She wanted him to be his usual playful self again. She needed him. She had needed him for years already. It's not that he wasn't present - he had visited during the holidays and had called her frequently - but it was different somehow. Always so serious.
And with her shirt off, the little red dots were visible. Her Multiple Sclerosis fell under the so-called "relapsing remitting" category, so she had been given a form of steroid that she had to inject with needles every day, into her belly. It was a little painful, because the needles stuck in deep, but at least the injectors had a button you could push to depress them. Each time she'd tense up, hesitate, then hit the little button, and feel the stabbing sensation. At least it was over quickly, although each injection left an itchy little mark that would stay for up to ten days. Her belly looked like it was covered in infected mosquito bites, her mother had told her. And it made her feel ugly in front of her brother. Especially in front of her brother.
"What's today, honey?" Faith's mom asked after a minute, when she was done correcting the wardrobe malfunction. She seemed tired, Faith realized. She always did these days. "You have any plans?"
"No." Faith said, sounding glum. "Just going to stay home, mom."
"What about you, Noah?" their mother asked. "It's Saturday. You ought to enjoy it."
"Probably going to Aaron's. Play some video games." His voice was non-committal, almost disinterested.
"Why don't you take Faith with you?" she said after a brief pause with a hint of optimism in her voice. "Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Mom.." Faith began to protest, but Suzanne interrupted her.
"Sweetie, you never meet up with your friends anymore, and you rarely ever go outside. Aaron might be Noah's friend but you know him well enough for it not to be awkward, hmm? Wouldn't it be nice to get out of the house? I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind." It was awkward how she talked as if Noah wasn't right there, across the table, chewing on his pancakes. But it was true that Faith didn't really see anyone anymore. Faith had stopped visiting her friends altogether, afraid that they wouldn't want to be around her, or that she would only hold them back from doing the things they really wanted to do. Her lack of eyesight really limited her. The world seemed scary, and she felt like a burden to everyone she knew.
"Mom.." she began, trying again to make a plea. "I can't play video games when I can't see anything, now can I?" There was a bitterness in her voice that surprised even herself. She almost never spoke sharply to her mother - but suddenly everything came out sounding like an accusation. Faith took a deep breath, then turned her attention back towards the pancakes. She wasn't hungry, but it didn't matter - eating always calmed her nerves a bit.
Losing her eyesight had been the worst part of the experience, but the occasional seizures and the depression that came along with it was a struggle too. Her sudden disease had taken a hard toll on her mentally, and she ended up distancing herself from all of her old friends. In truth, it had been weeks since she last left the house at all. She had managed to finish high-school with the help of online courses and special software, and visits from a teacher who came over every weekend, but only barely. She had not bothered sending out any college applications, even though nearly all of her friends would go once summer was over. Faith really couldn't bring herself to care about much of anything. The idea of leaving her room, and finding out what was waiting for her on the other side, didn't hold any appeal at all. Long gone were the days of exploring the world with her brother by her side. A distant, haunting memory of a better time.
But it was not her only symptom. The potential side effects of her disease were many, and the truth was that it was highly likely that more and more of them would emerge as it progressed. It was difficult to know what to expect with a condition like that, and far from every patient experienced the same outcome. Faith had no loss of movement, no reduced cognitive abilities, and only mild reduction of sensitivity in a few parts of her body - primarily her toes. She also didn't suffer from tremors or reduced memory. But her eyesight had quickly gone from perfect to blurry - and then from blurry to barely seeing anything - and now, about six months after her 18th birthday, she saw nothing but a grey, hazy field of undifferentiated shapes. She had gone completely blind.
She spent the rest of the meal eating slowly while Noah and her mother spoke about his on-going job search; how many more interviews were still left on the horizon, and how difficult it was to find anyone hiring for a decent job. Faith barely listened. She dreamed of a brighter time when she and her older brother had roamed through the forests surrounding their grandmother's home, finding frogs in the stream, making fun of each other with stupid jokes and making up silly songs that they sang as they walked along. It seemed childish, but she treasured those memories deeply. And lately she rarely did anything else except dwell on the past.
However, that was going to change! She had reached the precipice and it was time to either fall or fly. Faith had been struggling with the decision for months, but somehow, she was going to find the courage somewhere deep within. The courage to tell her older brother how she really felt about him, now that he was back home. Because, she reasoned, what did she have left to lose?
--- 2 ---
Half an hour after breakfast, a knock came upon Faith's door. She knew who it was right away, from how heavy-handed the person knocked. The thuds made her jump a little. "Come in!" she yelled loudly enough for Noah to hear clearly through the thick wood panelling of the door, after pausing her audiobook. She heard how he slowly opened the door, as if not entirely sure of his welcome.
"Hey, uhm.. You wanted to see me?" Faith could hear his voice waver a little when he said it. Her older brother had always been strong and confident, but ever since she started developing the disease, it seemed that his confidence had turned into worry whenever he interacted with her. As if she was fragile. Or worse; already broken. "Also, I wanted to apologise," he continued, sounding sadder than before. "For perhaps making you feel left out back at breakfast. I should have spoken up. You'd be more than welcome to hang out with me today if you want."
