The Stoner & The Blind Girl

Part 28

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"We scarcely know how much of our pleasure and interest in life comes to us through our eyes until we have to do without them; and part of that pleasure is that the eyes can choose where to look. But the ears can't choose where to listen."

- Ursula K.Le Guin

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"Are you scared?"

I turned to my mom to see her already looking at me.

"A little," I said honestly.

She smiled.

"Don't be, you deserve to be recognized for all your hard work." She said trying to encourage me.

Still, I could feel the beginning of a lump growing in my throat as my palms sweat.

In less than an hour, we would be in a museum seeing my artwork and the art of the other two finalists.

My work is gonna be in a museum in New York City. It still doesn't feel real. Even when my mom and I drove from home in Maryland to the city, awkwardly pretending our argument on Christmas didn't happen, it didn't feel real.

I don't know if I'm more scared of the fact that my work is gonna be there for everyone to judge and see or if I'm scared of the fact that Emma will be there.

I know she can't see the art, but knowing she will be there just adds to my nerves.

"You should probably start getting ready." Mom said softly. I could tell she was afraid that I was still upset from the other day.

Honestly, at this very moment, I couldn't give a shit about some letter from some man who has been nothing more than some glorified sperm donor.

I don't want him trying to come back into my life and be the father I never needed.

I have my friends, my mom, and Emma and that's enough.

"I'm going to go on a little walk to calm my nerves," I said honestly not giving her a chance to answer as I walked out of our joint hotel room.

Somehow I made it to the hotel roof. I walked over to the edge and looked down.

Everyone looked so small. And, with a world so big it just couldn't be possible that a single action from just one person could make much of a difference.

Yet, one little letter makes me feel like my whole world is just falling apart.

I stepped closer to the edge. Life is so unfair. Why are some people allowed to have everything while the rest of us struggle for just a piece?

The one thing I want is to be happy and that seems to be the sole thing I can't get.

I stepped back. What the hell is wrong with me?

My dream of my art being in a museum is about to come true and the girl I love loves me back, but still, I can't be happy because of a stupid piece of paper with some words on it that I never asked for.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little baggy of pills that Ashley gave to me what feels like years ago, but was really only a few weeks ago.

I found a strange comfort in carrying the pills with me; looking at them.

I opened the baggy and took a single pill out.

What's the worst that could happen?

I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed. My throat tightening as if my body knew this was a bad idea.