I thought I’d be blind forever. The acid is still burnt in my memory and unfortunately, the last thing I saw was the gnarled sinister face of my attacker.
The pain was indescribable, as each tiny drop corroded my skin and ate away my corneas. I ran aimlessly inside my house, writhing in pain and unknowingly, fell from the first-floor balcony.
Hours later, I woke up to darkness. My face still felt as if was being barbecued, along with the severe throbbing in my head. The doctors seemed grim and while they assured their best, my sight had to be sacrificed for my life.
After twelve major surgeries and fifteen minor surgeries, I was wheeled back home. While to say I was upset about losing my sight would be an understatement, I was relieved in a way. I had read stories of how acid attack victims went into depression and even committed suicide after seeing their scarred face in the mirror. At least, I had been spared that distress.
Until one day, when I caught a tiny glimpse of a metallic flash from the corner of my right eye. It was the tap of my wash basin. Within minutes, my vision cleared miraculously.
I ran to inform my mother and saw her working in the kitchen. I exclaimed to her happily, “Mom! Mom! I can see you!”
“Momma’s not here, Angie.” A gentle voice announced from behind. I felt a pair of hands grab from behind and seat me in a chair.
“What do you mean Momma’s not here?” I asked the person. I couldn’t see him.
“I’m Doctor Patel and I’m sorry to tell you, your mom passed away many years ago.” He spoke softly.
“But I can see her! She’s right there! She’s baking a brownie for us!”
“I understand, Angie. But you’re in a hospital. And you are in very safe hands.”
My mother turned and gave me a warm comforting smile.
I felt a slight prick in my arm and felt what remained of my eyelids getting heavy.
Just before I dozed off, I heard their conversation.
“How many times today, Nurse?”
“This was the fourth episode, Doctor.”