Being blind was not something new to me. In fact, I was so used to the darkness, that light hurts my eyes. When did I get so used to exsisting?

Life passed before my eyes; hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into years. All I had left was darkness; I was surrounded.

Suffocating. I was suffocating. The words were caught in my throat, and my eyes squeezed to keep the frustrated tears in. I was choking.

Fear held me back, but I kept crying for help. But nobody answered. Poison flooded my veins, and I became bitter. Bitter and bitter I grew; crazy thoughts filed my hear.

I looked in the mirror, and I didn't feel worthwhile; I couldn't find a purpose in my life.

And then I saw it, a glimmer in the darkness. A light, just dimly lit, but raging enough to boil my blood.

The tears came, the words spilled out. And there was someone there to hold me, to rock me. She put her hand on my heart, and guided me through the darkness.

In her hugs I perish, in her kisses I fall. In her love, I live.

My mother.