The grass, it prickled and played with my fingers, running along my arm, tangling my hair, tickling my legs and feet. The air, it danced on my stomach, sung in my face, blew on my eyelashes. The
sun, it shinned on my body, lying in the grass and looking up to the sky. I imagined the sky was a sort of cream colour, although everyone told me it was blue, I imagined differently. The way it
made me feel every time I looked above me, I could sense that it anything but blue.
The grass, I was told it was the colour green, they explained to me that green was a bright tangled colour, full of wisdom and life. I imagined green as a rough form, as it belonged to the
ground, the way I see it is all the rough colours start from the bottom and all the light and smooth colours belong at the top.
I lifted a hand to try and touch the sky, I wonder how high above it was, with the clouds floating beneath it. My fingers wiggled, longing to reach higher but I stayed on the ground, not ever
wanting to move again. I could feel a smile spread across my face, I couldn’t help but let my lips fold like that whenever I felt this way, they told me that it was the sign I was happy. I parted
my lips to let my teeth shine out, they were white colour, a smooth and calm.
I then took a deep breath and I laughed. I laughed hard and into the air, no reason, people told me you laugh when something funny happens, I laugh because I want to. We don’t have to wait for
something to happen to trigger it; we can just... laugh, whenever we want.
“Molly” My smile grew wider as I recognized the voice. Soft and enchanting, a small voice that came and whispered into my ears. It was like an Angles whisper, coming from the clouds high above. I
felt the world spinning as Howie’s smile grew on my skin; I heard the trees blowing and knew that he was showing me a sign.
It was summer. That much I could tell with the way the sun was beaming, heating my skin. Summer was a fun time in Perth, picnics on the soft grass that smelt of lemon wedge for some strange
reason. The water was crystal clear and inviting us to just jump in, it was so nice and cold and smooth with the way it felt on my hand.
I would listen to Gracie and Howie jumping in the water and splashing around and I would laugh when I heard Gracie complain that her hair was ruined when Dad forced her under the water. Mum would
stay on the bank with me, her arm around my shoulders and our heads pressed together.
Mum and Gracie would go shopping any chance they got, dragging me along with them, although I would much prefer to play football with dad and Howie. In and out of stores, picking clothes and
trying them on and asking what we thought. I would also feel the fabric on my fingertips and ask the colour before I gave my opinion. I always imagine different colours as I have never seen any,
my imagination is fairly big and even though I can’t see anything I can still imagine what the world looks like, what the sky looks like.
Coffee and cakes at a small Bistro downtown after shopping was one of their rituals, I can still remember the taste of sweet chocolate cake in my mouth, rolling on my tongue before descending
down my throat. When we got home Howie and dad would be muddy from playing and I could remember Howie, jumping into my arms, telling me he missed me and I should have seen dad’s face when he
kicked that one goal from in the centre of the field.
I can still remember what he looked like; every year for eight years from the day he was born I would trace his face. His skin was soft as baby skin that hadn’t left yet, his nose small and
button like. His jaw was soft and round, his mouth skinny that felt like a marshmallow. His eyelashes were short, his eyebrows bushy and thick. His hair was always shaggy and cut every month for
the way it grew. He was a short boy, being that he was only young and tiny. I would never forget how my younger brother laughed, the sweetest sound in the world and every time it came out, a
fairy spread its little wings and flew for the first time. I closed my eyes again and remembered, I remembered everything that happened this summer that gave me the strength I needed.
I could hear the wind blowing on the curtains in the room where I sat. It wasn’t overly gusty outside, yet I could still hear the wind coming through the window and blowing on my long tangled
brown hair. It was curly, I could feel it every time I touched it, the way I knew it was brown was because of my parents... I imagine brown being a dark colour, the way it fit who I was.
I heard the footsteps coming to my room, too loud for my mother and too heavy for my sister. I smiled when someone joined me sitting on the bed.
It was silent for a while, not one of us talking to each other, I enjoyed the silence, it was nice to just sit in a room with no one talking and just takes in the world for what it really was.
I heard my dad sigh. “Everything’s going to work out flower, trust me”
I nodded to the words that came from his mouth and heart, yet I didn’t believe them then. Our family had been torn apart because of what happened and now my mother can barely look Gracie in the
eyes. But I couldn’t see the future; I couldn’t even see the present. So I had no way of knowing if everything was going to work out, or crumble to the ground like a piece of stale bread.
But I turned my head, held my father’s hand and said the words that I didn’t believe. “I know it will dad”
I turned to look out the window to pretend to see the sky. Downstairs I could only imagine my mother was unpacking the boxes filled with all out possessions. All the memories and belongings from
our old home we’re being placed into our new one. I regret ever leaving Perth; my parents said everything is going to be alright, that we were moving to get passed it. But I knew the truth, we
were just moving so we didn’t have to think about it.
I remember the first time mum let me help her make dinner for the family in Perth. Her voice was beautiful, it fitted with her round face and small nose, much like mine and her lovely long and
wavy brown hair that flew to her back and further down.
“Molly, there you are” I listened to my mother’s closing footsteps and felt her hand press lightly on mine. “I want to show you something”
I let her take me over to the stove and I felt the heat making me sweat, I heard it sizzle as I suspect mother must have stirred it around a bit. “Hmm, smells nice, what are you making?”
I never really fancied my voice; it was quiet and high, always sounded like I was still just a three year old kid playing dress up in my mother’s wardrobe. I had learned a while ago that the
voice we hear is not the voice others hear. We have so much muscle and things in our head that we never get to hear what our real voice sounds like, even if we use an answering machine or record
ourselves, it’s never accurate.
My mother’s voice on the other hand I could listen to for hours, her voice was so formal and well matured, a hint of English people would guess in there but she had never been to England in her
entire life, including no relatives from that place either.
“So why did you call me?”
“Here” I felt her pull me closer to the stove and press something in my hand, which felt smooth, yet rough at the same time, I travelled my other hand along. It was thick and round at the top
like a spoon.
She then made me put the spoon in the frying chicken and held my hand while we both stirred the food around. I heard it sizzle and the smell enter my nose every time I pulled them together and
apart. “Keep doing that never let it settle” She continued to move my hand around the frying chicken until she finally let go and I was doing it myself, in the same rhythm.
“That’s it, I’ll be right back” She kissed me on the cheek before she walked out of the room, I heard her not go far, yet I had no idea what she was doing. I continued to stir the chicken while I
heard her taking a box off the shelf, the way the floorboards creaked when she stood on her tiptoes and the way a box full of old materials and such banged to the ground. Then she came back and
looked over my shoulder as I felt her breath on my neck.
I then felt her take my other hand. “Which carpet do you think I should use for the living room?” She pressed my hand lightly to a rough surface; I spread my finger tips as I took in the feel of
the carpet sample. It felt rough as I said but enjoyable at the same time and I felt as if it would look nice in our small little living area.
Then she lifted my hand to press against another sample, this one felt so soft my fingers felt as if they could sleep there and never return. I smiled as she kept making my hand touch both of the
samples, letting me feel every inch of them.
“So, which should I use?”
I crinkled my nose as I always did when I was thinking. “The second one, it’s so soft”
My mother laughed. “You are so smart” She gave me another kiss as I heard her put the samples away and came back to help me stir. I was only thirteen when that happened, I only helped her stir
the chicken but I still consider it cooking. My father complimented both of us on how well we did and I remember having the biggest smile that day.
Now when I was sixteen, we had moved to a country town and living in a big house that I wasn’t use to, wherever I went I had to have someone guiding me. In Perth I had Gracie help me when I
needed to get around, before I got use to everything.
Silence filled the entire family our first night at our new dinner table. We had ordered take out from a fish and chip shop and were picking away at all the fries left on the table like a flock
of seagulls. The only sound that could be heard was the chewing and moving of the chairs whenever someone shuffled uncomfortably. I waited for someone to speak, anyone to break the silence, I
would have done it myself but I wasn’t even sure if they were still in the room... I couldn’t feel them anymore.
“Hey I was thinking of going into town tomorrow” My dad’s voice went over the silence but I heard no one respond, I could only imagine that my mother didn’t care, another chair shuffled. “Gracie
do you want to come?”
“Sure” The nineteen year olds voice sounded tired, I could only imagine how she felt. She was supposed to be my role model of a big sister and she did her part, but after what happened, she just
seemed so different and always tired.
Silence fell through the room again. “Can I come?”
That was when three chairs all shuffled at the same time; I could feel eyes on me, worried eyes. Ever since the accident my family have been overly cautious with me, especially mum. They never
wanted me to leave the house, or do really anything that was dangerous, in the city I was never allowed to leave the apartment after the accident; I thought that when we moved here things would
be different, more open.
I don’t know what made my mum do what she did next, perhaps body language from dad, or the fact that she was finally starting to realize I was safe, but she sighed and said the single best word
in the English language.
The windows stayed rolled down as we pulled out from the house and begun to drive to town. I had no idea how far it was but I loved being in a car, going fast and sticking my head out the window,
feeling the wind blow on my face and hair. Gracie sat in the front sit while dad drove; it upset me that I would never be able to drive a car like this, although I thought it was a gift just to
have a car like this.
I had never known what it was like to live in the country; my parents told me that it was the complete opposite of the city. Nice and quiet and open with freshly cut grass ranches with horses and
farms with pigs, chickens and sheep. I had never really known what these animals were other than when we had them for dinner, but a horse I had never really heard before and when I asked my
parents explained they were an animal you could ride, like a bike, although I had never rode a bike.
I smiled when I felt the car pull to a stop and knew we were here, my door was opened by my father and I stepped out of the car onto a hard road. I heard people talking and cars driving past as
well as smelled something unusual, something I had never smelt before.
Gracie took my hand as we began to walk, she led me through and I didn’t bump into anyone like I sometimes did in the city, I guess it was easy to tell I was blind. In my opinion my sister was
very beautiful; she was the one that took the gift of beauty when she was born. She takes after our mother, with the round face and dimples and chubby nose. She had straight hair that went past
her shoulders, she hated long hair and cut it every chance she got, but didn’t focus on it the past year and let it grow.
“Dad can we go in here?”
I felt my sister stop walking and turn to look in another direction.
“Sure, but watch Mol”
I sighed in frustration as Gracie lead me inside somewhere, classical music was playing in the background and the smell of new shoes and fresh clothes allowed me to know where I was. I could feel
how bad Gracie wanted to let go of my hand and run around the store, but she stayed locked with me and lead me through with her.
“I hate shopping” I groaned as I felt a piece of fabric press against me.
Gracie sighed. “You need nice clothes; all you ever wear is jeans and plain shirts”
That much was true, but I didn’t care how I looked, I didn’t have to look at myself and I didn’t care what other people thought, so why did I have to dress like a pop star? Today I just put on my
normal ripped jeans and white puffy shirt that was tucked in, at least they told me it was white. My hair was out and I had only ran a brush through it, not really caring how messy it looked.
Just then I heard a high pitch squeal, I was a bit taken back when it came from my sister. “This dress is amazing! I have to try it on!”
Before I could protest I was dragged away and pushed onto a soft wicker chair and commanded to stay there while my sister got changed. A kind old lady came to me and asked if I needed anything,
when I didn’t look at her I could tell in her voice that she was shocked to see I was blind and she became uncomfortable and left as soon as she could, hated people like that.
My sister came out of the change room then and I could tell she was happy. “What do ya think?”
I got off the chair and felt the soft fabric on my fingertips, it was silk and I could tell then it would be expensive. I ran my hands down and felt how short it was, right above her knees, then
I felt her shoulder blades, the dress had very short sleeves.
“It would look good with boots” I said as I continued to feel the fabric.
“I know right, that was what I was thinking”
“You will never be able to afford it”
“How do you know?”
I sighed and sat back on the wicker chair. “I have a gift”
I could hear my sister walking somewhere, to a mirror most likely. “I have money”
“Do you really want to waste it on something as practical as a dress?”
She didn’t say anything and I grew frustrated, wishing I could see how beautiful she really looked in the dress, and then maybe I could understand why people wanted nice things.
I sighed. “Why don’t you ask dad?”
I felt her walking back to me. “No it’s ok, like he would buy it for me anyway”
“You could at least ask him” I said, knowing what she was referring to.
“I’m fine; I have plenty of dresses, better than this one”
I heard her walk back into the change room and close the drapes. She annoyed me sometimes, why couldn’t she just ask dad for some money, he would be happy to pay for it. But I guess I couldn’t
blame her for not wanting to ask him.
I suddenly felt horrible for leaving mum alone at home, after what happened she would have hated to be alone, even though she would never admit it. Maybe that’s why she has been so overprotective
and making me stay home, because she knew if she was alone she wouldn’t be able to hold in her emotions. Maybe she would be too busy unpacking the house to cry and think about it.
I was stuck in a world that was no longer turning, I was tired of dreaming, I was tired of living the same life over and over again, all I ever wanted was to run free and be myself.