I am a blind young woman. Living alone, a man broke into my home one night to steal, but he also tried to assault me, slowly undoing my clothes, muttering about taking more than my body… he wanted my heart, too. Today is June 7th. It’s been exactly 1,095 days since I lost my sight. My name is Emily Shaw, and I’m twenty-one years old. But my life, my future—it all got destroyed three years ago. It was June 7th then, too, and I was on my way to the SATs, mumbling bits of the poems I’d reviewed that morning. That’s when I heard a young girl crying. Instinct told me that the man rushing off with her had to be trafficking her. People nearby ignored it all, but I couldn’t. I ran toward them. In a narrow alley, I fought to free the little girl from him. That’s where the man’s knife struck, stabbing into my eyes, blinding me for good. I was blinded by a sudden rush of blood. The pain was unbearable, yet I held that girl as tightly as I could. Later, her family dropped to their knees to thank me. The police awarded me a Community Bravery Award and $1,500. I was praised as a hero. But my life, my beautiful future, had ended there. At first, the family I saved would visit occasionally, bringing the little girl. But eventually, they stopped coming altogether. I remember the last time Maddie came. She giggled as she pressed a few coins into my hand and said, “You can go beg under the bridge someday, okay? My mom says if I don’t study hard or go blind like you, I’ll end up begging too!” My lips quivered, and I fought back my tears. Once, I was my mom’s precious girl, the light of her life. If I could do it all over again, I would never step in like that. I would rather be an indifferent stranger than give up the happiness of a lifetime. Since losing my sight, every day has felt like a year. I’ve had to depend on my mother, and she was the only family I had. A week ago, she passed away from illness, and though relatives came for the funeral, they soon left. Now, I am truly the loneliest person alive. It’s so empty that I don’t even know why I keep living. Since losing my sight, my other senses have only sharpened. My hearing has become so acute that I can hear the exact spot where a needle drops to the floor. I’ve memorized how many steps it is to the kitchen, the bathroom, the nearest fast-food place. I live carefully, counting my steps. But I keep on surviving because of one person. There’s someone I care for. His name is Daniel Hart, my high school boyfriend. Even after what happened, he didn’t break up with me. He would still come by and check on me, giving me a shred of comfort in my broken world. This afternoon, I was practicing my Braille dictionary in the living room when I heard a knock on the door. With my guide stick in hand, I started slowly toward the door, but the knocking became louder and more aggressive. “Hold on, hold on…,” I said quietly, but the person kept pounding on the door. “Hey, if you don’t open up, I’m leaving. I’m here to fix the pipes for free, and you’re just letting me wait. You think I’m—” The door swung open, and his rant cut off when he saw me. The draft chilled me, and I couldn’t help but shiver. I apologized, “Sorry, I’m blind. It took a bit to get over here.” He paused, mumbling after a moment, “Oh, that’s fine. You’re Ms. Shaw in 302, right? I’m Norman Brooks, the repairman they called in to check the pipes.” He reached out and touched my hand. Though reluctant, I shook it lightly. “Hello.” Norman was diligent and polite, finishing the repair, then even offering to clean up my bathroom for me. “Stay for tea?” I offered, politely. I heard him scratch his head and awkwardly decline. Just as he was leaving, I heard a key in the lock, and the door opened. “Emily, I brought you something good to eat!” I instantly recognized Daniel’s bright, comforting voice. My heart warmed, and I threw myself into his arms. “You’re finally here.” In my memory, Daniel still looked like he did at eighteen, his face warm and bright. Every time he came, I would trace my fingers over his face, his lips, his Adam’s apple. I was terrified of forgetting the face of the one I loved most. After all, he was all I had left in the world. We kissed, oblivious to Norman, who cleared his throat, reminding us he was still there. Blushing, I pulled away from Daniel. “Uh, Ms. Shaw, I’ll take off now. If your pipes act up again, just have maintenance call me. I’ll leave you two alone,” Norman said, sounding irritated. “Yes…Daniel, could you see him out?” I urged Daniel toward the door, but he stayed still, keeping me in his arms as if to prove a point. “Just a plumber,” he said quietly, “We paid him to do his job. No need to see him out.” I wanted to tell him that Norman had come voluntarily, without charging a thing, but I heard Norman already leaving. Daniel didn’t seem to care. I smelled the fresh bouquet of flowers he brought and heard him place them gently in a glass vase. “Emily, you have to keep living,” he said softly. “One day, I’ll marry you.” Daniel had gone off to Georgetown and was now prepping for grad school. I was happy for him; he was getting the life I never could. On our rare visits, Daniel would hold me as I drifted off to sleep. When he thought I was asleep, he would finally slip out. But this time, as he left, he took a call in the living room, and I heard everything. The familiar warmth of his voice had a different tone: “Hey, baby. I’m just here because she’s alone all the time, and the reporters still hang around every now and then. Don’t worry. I’ll get the last bit of her support check, cover my tuition, and after that, I’m out of here.” “A dumb, pathetic blind girl,” he said, chuckling. “I’m just using her. I’ve never loved her.” The shock flooded through me, bringing a searing pain, like a bolt from a clear sky. Daniel had felt disgust for me this whole time?
I had feared that Daniel might leave, but I never expected it would happen in such a cold, brutal way. I stopped reaching out to him, and true to his word, he never came back. Even if I knew he had cheated… what could I do? I couldn’t rage or stop him from seeking better choices. From then on, it felt as if the life had drained from me. I cried every day. Without sight, without family, and without love, only the dark and this empty building kept me company. One afternoon, I was in the shower, cleaning myself up as if for some final act. When I rinsed off the soap, I heard the sound of someone swallowing from somewhere in the room. My sharpened senses picked it up right away—a low, heavy sound, like a man’s breath. The darkness around me magnified my fear. “Who’s there? Who?” My voice wavered as I asked, tension tightening my chest. No answer came, only silence. Panicked, I fumbled for a robe, buttoning it with trembling fingers, and reached to lock the bathroom door. Just as I was about to lock it, I realized—it had been opened from the outside. The cold air filled my throat, squeezing it tight. My heart sank. Terrified, I slipped and fell, my robe catching on the handle, leaving me exposed on the cold floor. I heard the front door close from the inside. Someone was here. Two hands reached down and pulled me up, wrapping around my waist, his warm palm pressed against me. My teeth chattered, but the gentleness was an illusion. The next second, I felt the cold edge of a knife at my neck, a faint scent of blood in the air. He was injured. “Where’s the money?” he said in a gruff voice. From his voice and breath, I knew right away who it was—Norman Brooks, the plumber from earlier. My mind went into overdrive. He must have been trying to rob me, furious over some previous theft gone wrong, choosing me, the blind woman, as the easy target. “My mom has my savings…there’s no money here. Please, let me go,” I begged, though my mother had been gone for weeks. In reality, I had no savings left. I’d used up everything for Mom’s medical bills. Only a few emergency bills remained under my mattress. Norman scoffed, his sweat close to my ear. “Next time, then, little blind girl. If you tell anyone, you’ll be sorry.” I nodded, drenched in cold sweat. After that, he resumed his search, dragging me with him, looting my router, TV box, and an old vase, boxing up everything. Held by the neck, I couldn’t call out for help. The room was filled with the unbearable sound of water dripping from the kitchen sink. When he finally let me go, he brushed against me, making me shiver. His hands were rough and calloused from years of hard work. He paused and handed me my robe after a moment. As I dressed, I could feel his gaze on me. A blush rose to my cheeks, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “You’re…very beautiful,” he said suddenly, voice low. “I’ve never seen a woman’s body before. This is the first time.”
After he left, I took a moment to catch my breath, reaching out to check the lock on my door. It hadn’t been forced open. He had used a key. And the only spare key was with Daniel. Panic hit me as I screamed, blindly lashing out, knocking over the vase Daniel had placed so delicately in the living room. Glass shattered around me, and I stepped right onto a shard, but I didn’t feel the pain. Norman had stolen almost everything valuable from my home, leaving the place empty and mocking. Even my phone, my only way of reaching anyone, was gone. A voice in my head, cold and cutting, asked: Emily Shaw, what do you have left? Why are you still here? But another voice within me pushed back, fierce and defiant. No. I’m not going to let them break me. Not after everything. If I had to go down, I would take someone with me. I wiped away my tears and slowly made my way downstairs to the small convenience store to ask for help. The shop owner, Linda Carson, was there playing cards with some other women. Their laughter echoed through the summer air, completely ignoring me. Nervous, I held out five dollars and said quietly, “Please, I need help. There’s been a break-in at my place, and the man tried to assault me. Can you call the police?” The women went silent, and Linda Carson looked at me with mock sympathy before saying, “Oh, honey, who’d rob a place like yours? They’d be more likely to leave you some coins to survive on.” They burst into laughter, as if mocking my misery was a pastime. I clenched my fists, shame burning in my chest. It dawned on me how helpless I was—trapped, blind, with no one to turn to. Linda tossed a moldy loaf of bread at me, shouting, “Here, now take that and get lost. You’re in the way.” The stale bread struck my forehead, the pain blossoming. I reached up to hold my head, anger boiling over. “I might be blind, but I can see who you really are,” I snapped back. “I’m not some beggar you can insult as you please.” I was about to turn away when Linda shoved me back, dousing me in hot tea. “Here’s some sunshine for you, honey,” she sneered. The tea scalded my chest, searing through my skin, a painful reminder of how powerless I was. Tears stung my eyes as I thought of my mother, of Daniel, of everything that had led me here. Just then, a familiar deep voice cut through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing? She’s blind, for God’s sake. And you’re treating her like this?” It was Norman. My heart skipped a beat. Fear twisted inside me, knowing he was here. “You all better have some damn decency,” he barked, smashing Linda’s sign. She slammed down her shutters as the women scurried off, casting wary glances at him. Finally, we were alone, and I felt his presence near, his breathing still heavy from anger. “Ms. Shaw, are you okay?” His tone softened as he turned to me, a strange contrast to the fury moments before. “Yeah, yes…thank you.” My voice trembled. “What were you doing here anyway?” he asked, curiosity tinged with something else. I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him I was trying to report him for harassment and theft. “I…came for food,” I said softly. “Well, isn’t that convenient,” he chuckled. “I just stocked up on canned meat. Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.” When we returned to my apartment, he even swept up the glass shards on the floor. After he noticed the burn on my chest, he rummaged through my things until he found an ointment, carefully applying it to my skin. Sitting on the sofa, I felt strangely out of place in my own home, as if I were the guest, and he was the host. Fear and confusion tangled inside me, knowing how he’d helped me today but also remembering his threats. When it was time to take my medication, I swallowed it with water, hoping it would calm my nerves. I’d been on anti-anxiety meds since I lost my sight, a routine meant to keep me grounded. “Was it here where you got burned?” Norman asked, his fingers brushing my collarbone. “Yes, but…” I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He gave a sharp tug, pulling my strap down to examine the burn. His grip was firm, and a soft blush spread across my skin. “Don’t move. I’ve seen it all before,” he murmured, pressing the ointment into my skin, his fingers surprisingly gentle. My heart hammered, and I could hear the slight hitch in his breathing as he worked. “If anyone messes with you again, let me know,” he said softly. “I don’t have family. Got nothing to lose.” I moved to pull his hand away, and that’s when I noticed it—his leg. Or rather, the lack of it. His left leg was a prosthetic. I didn’t know what had happened to him, but it made me uneasy, a chill crawling up my spine. “Norman, I… I really don’t have any money. Please, don’t come back here again.” I forced the words out, my voice trembling. The air between us froze, his hand stilled, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with a slow smile, he whispered, “No money? You’ve still got something else.” I tensed, unsure of what he meant. Before I could react, he pinned my arms over my head, pushing me down onto the sofa. His lips, cold and rough, found mine in a bruising kiss. Shock and terror pulsed through me, spreading like fire from my spine to my limbs. His kiss was brutal, forceful, more of an assault than an embrace, his breath heavy and primal. I thrashed, trying to break free, but his strength far outweighed mine. And as I felt his body’s shift, a deeper, more primitive fear took root inside me. Even blind, I knew what he intended to do.
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