Seven years ago today, Stephen was born. He wasn’t quite the little bundle of joy we had expected. You see, Stephen was born blind, and everywhere we went, all people felt was pity. I see the way people look at him, stealing glances, but it’s even worse when they don’t look at all. I know dad left us because he thought he couldn’t handle it, and I know mom works all the time because she knows she can’t.
Everyone knows that he needs help, but I’m the only one there. The people who say they love him most, push him away. That leaves me, Stephen’s eyes; he sees the world through me, and I know a better world because of him.
0
Comments
A person’s family could be the most important thing in their world, or their dreaded enemies. But the truth is that we all recognize the flaws in our family, and grow to love them. Our families are the some of the only people we can love at their best and worst. And now, the little family I have left is falling apart.
Seven years ago today, Stephen was born. He wasn’t quite the little bundle of joy we had expected. You see, Stephen was born blind, and everywhere we went, all people felt was pity. I see the way people look at him, stealing glances, but it’s even worse when they don’t look at all. I know dad left us because he thought he couldn’t handle it, and I know mom works all the time because she knows she can’t.
Everyone knows that he needs help, but I’m the only one there. The people who say they love him most, push him away. That leaves me, Stephen’s eyes; he sees the world through me, and I know a better world because of him.
Now that we are left alone, I often find Stephen and I sitting on the grassy knolls of the gently sloped landscape of the wild. We face the ocean; I see the dull blue-green waters, on the wildly orange backdrop, suddenly, I feel bad for taking Stephen here. I’ve heard him say the ocean is his favorite place to be. He says he likes the feel of the salty air whipping across his face, I wonder how he would feel if he knew what it looked like.
Sometimes, I wish that I could be blind like Stephen, that I too, could be shielded from this world of pain and sorrow. I know that Stephen wouldn’t wish this upon his worst enemy, but I can’t help but try not to see sometimes.
When we come home, the house is dark, and empty. There are dishes left at the table, still piled with food. It’s as though our mom was plucked from her chair by some other-worldly force. But I know better, mom left early this morning, blowing off another family breakfast.
I quietly push the plates out of Stephen’s way, and pretend as if I don’t notice them. I know a tired, drunken mom won’t appreciate coming home to this mess, so I’ll hide in my room until she’s sleeping in hers.
http://www.thesims3.com/contentDetail.html?contentId=213612