My eyes shoot open.
But everything’s suffocatingly black. My heart thumps. My breath shallow. I throw my hands over my chest and try to control my breathing. Slowly, my heartrate drops.
This darkness, this void is my world now. My vision is gone. I’ve accepted that, but it’s nearly impossible to live in this abyss. “The panic will subside when you learn to compensate your lack of vision with you other senses,” they said. But so far, I wake to an endless night.
I miss seeing people. I miss watching movies and reading books. I miss driving myself.
Now I ride the bus. Did I miss my stop?
Panic.
I turn my head and ask my seatmate what stop is next.
No response.
Maybe he already got off. I speak louder, hoping someone will hear. Still nothing. Then the realization hits: it’s too quiet. No voices, no engine rumble. I stretch my hearing beyond the bus and just make out the faint sound of crickets in the warm night. “Hello! Anyone there?”
Smack. Things crash against the windows. The chirping explodes.
It’s angry.
Shaking, my hands search the space in front of me. I grab the metal and pull myself up with one hand while grasping my white cane with the other. Clank. It bangs into something.
Will I ever get the hang of this thing? Tentatively, I slide my fingers across the metal bar in front of me and use my white cane to brush along the ground, trying to find the aisle.
It seems clear so I step and walk toward the front of the bus.
“Anyone here? I think I missed my stop. Can someone tell me where we are?” I expect the bus driver to respond, but he doesn’t. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck salute. And I know someone watches me.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
I sense eyes fixed on me. Without hesitation, I trace my white cane along the floor and find the stairs. I’m not sure if the door is open, but I jump anyway! I smash onto the ground.
The crickets shriek! I’m pelted with tiny somethings. And as I step, I feel miniscule pops.
I’m floating in space. No tether. No way back to safety. But I furiously start moving.
I bump into cold metal. More buses? They’re everywhere.
Okay, I’m at the bus depot. I can find the office and get help.
Then I hear voices! I whip my head around, trying to orient myself. But it’s impossible with the crickets. Why the crickets?
I half-run, smack into something hard, and fall back, dropping my white cane in the process. Frantically, I search the ground.
It’s gone.
“Let me help you,” an unknown voice drawls.
“Thank you!” My voice cracks.
“No problem, Felix.” Another voice replies.
“H-how do you know my name?”
“We’ve been waiting,” a woman whispers in my ear.
I swallow bile. “W-what?”
Then I feel hands grabbing at me. I shout!
So do the crickets.
