As I grew I knew nothing of this world. Of the land I stood on, the cities I traveled through, nor the landscapes I came across.
It was difficult. I could smell everything, what felt like the fresh air, the wind across my face and the feeling of warmth against the fires at night.
It was all I could, seeing as the beauty of the world had suddenly and rapidly been stricken away from me.
Sometimes I’d imagine it all, the bushes and trees swaying from side to side. The sound of the crashing waves against the cliff edge. The crack of thunder in the clouds.
Sadly, years ago as a young boy I lost it all. I remember it every night as I sleep, the screams. The burning and the bangs, the explosive sound rocketing towards us.
My last image was of a boy standing in the open wasteland of burning houses, fires crackling and growing out of control. The faint sound of screams in agony and silhouetted bodies in the windows reflecting down. It shook me, scared me stiff so I couldn’t move.
Then it happened.
Through the clouds, the long sharded capsule crashing towards me, luckily landing to my feet into the dirt and sticking out of the soil beneath. Still stiff though, I could only stare, then I just remember a white light and the loss of sensation. A loss of sight.
Years on, I had come to adjust to my natural habitat but always wanted more. Not just hat touch, the sound, the movement, I wanted the sight to see before me. The shape of clouds, the leaves in autumn and the rays of the sun.
Laying there on the hospital bed, I could still feel the pain after the operation. I imagined my parents, giving me the comfort that everything will be alright, nothing will happen and it’ll all end one day.
Treatment was harsh, painful and electroshock through the back of the skull, through my nervous system then into my retinas.
Finally, I could do it. I could readjust my vision on to the world. View it for all that had been described to me by my parents. My loved ones.
I wondered what I’d first see as the bandages were unwrapped from my head, as the nurse whispered don’t worry, take it easy, don’t be too shocked. My wonder grew and grew with excitement.
Layering undone the final bandage, I could see the glimpse of sunlight glisten through, my eyes stinging at the beams.
Opening them I saw huge spotlights above me, looking down. The nurse leaned over me sitting me up as my electroshock retinas adjusted still wildly.
Then my first sight of the world came upon me. Seeing from the window was a wasteland of what was Earth and it hit me my life I had led, had imagined, had thought up of all these years was a lie from that moment the explosion took my sight.