Shedding Tears into Darkness

He will never see again. 

The fact still didn't want to seem to register in my mind. Maybe it was a mistake- maybe I had heard the doctor wrong. His dialogue explaining all your medical conditions was only a string of words unknown to me, and in my incomprehension my mind went elsewhere than with the doctor. So maybe what I thought I understood wasn't what he actually meant. Maybe all those substances you had consumed at that party had just given you a bad stomach who didn't agree that taking them was fun.

I knew I hadn't misheard. The fact that you had been there for three days convinced me of it. Those three days had seemed like an eternity. I had come in and had stayed with you practically all day, but every time I came out it seemed harder to walk back in. What I saw wasn't someone getting better. It was my best friend, on his deathbed. The doctor said that you were in a frail state. Frail state meaning they were not sure if you would ever make it out of your coma. If you didn't, it wouldn't take you too much longer to die. If you did come back to us, you'd be blind, forever. How could I walk back into that room, knowing that you had brought this upon yourself, killing yourself halfway and killing part of me while you were at it? I always told you that drugs were bad. But you sent me away and told me to have fun. Now look where we are.

I took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked back inside. I sat on the bed next to you and gripped your shoulder. A faint groan escaped your lips. Slowly, as if it were taking up all your energy, your eyelids flickered open. But only I saw that. You did not, because you could not see anything anymore, never would. It took a moment for the realization to hit you. It wasn't like in the cartoons we watched when we were kids. You didn't ask me who turned off the lights. You understood, and slowly the gravity of it dawned upon your face. First, it was bewilderment. Then, panic. Your breaths came faster, your whole body started shaking, and your face was screwed up in confusion. I gripped your shoulder tighter. 

"It's me." You recognized my voice. "You're in the hospital, after one of your... parties. You probably can't even remember."

There was a pause, the silent question still hung in the air. He did not want to ask, and I did not want to answer. One of his hands reached to his face, felt his eyes. They were there all right. But your hands stayed there, as if waiting for a miracle to bring back your sight.

"You're blind now."

Again, a pause. Neither of us moved. Neither of us said anything. But this time you started shaking again, spasms taking over your body. Tears ran down your face like streams and your mouth opened, but it took a while for the sound to come out. When it did, it came in wails, screams of anger and frustration. I sat by you and waited for the raging storm to calm.

It took some time, but eventually, you stopped.

"Where am I?" Your voice sounded weak and came as a faint croak, but I understood. I would've understood even if you hadn't spoken.

"We're in the hospital, up on the hills. The one we can see from the observatory which you always like to stare at and imagine the miracles that save peoples lives there. If only you could see the site. It's beautiful! I can see the city downhill and trees- green, yellow, orange- they're all over the place between here and downtown. And right now, there's the sunset. Man, I really wish you could see this."

There was nothing to see. I hadn't had time to take you to a better hospital, and even if I had, I had no money to pay for it. The only window in the room was the one on the door, and that was so the doctor could see the patients. We were underground, and the walls were being taken over by mould. But to you, the place could have been anywhere, since the only thing you perceived was the smell of the air fresheners that hung over your bed. I didn't want to lie to you, but the place was depressing, and a few happy thoughts might make this horrible ordeal slightly better.

I told you more about the view and the animals outside, and then I kept talking, not wanting to stop, as if my conversation were your life link. You became more and more relaxed, although I could still see the pain in your face. Emotional pain. 

I talked to you about us, when we were kids, and when we used to play together in the park. Your breathing became more regular and deeper, and you seemed to sink further into the bed. It seemed to be only a second before you were completely unconscious, and another quick second before you were no longer breathing. You never would again. Then, I wept. I wept for easier times, for the parting of a friend, and for the hint of a smile that there seemed to be on your face.

Or perhaps it was only a shadow.