Another day, another time in the same place.

  Reaching out for her old comfort, her hand gently brushed over the surface of her violin before she lifted it to her shoulder and settled it under her chin.

  “Talk to me,” she whispered.

  As it started to sing and whisper of better times—away from this prison that was now her home—the flow of the sounds was gentle, merely a light tone in the wind.

  Carefully she coaxed the rhythm, lest it be rushed into a screech that would remind her of the night she lost everything… even her sight.

  Yet now the sound came more fluid—a drifting sound of beauty singing louder to the timing of her hand gently shifting the bow upon the strings.

  The song faded ever so slightly as the darkness came—the emptiness, always wanting her to let it all end, since nothing would ever be the same.

  Yet the flow of her song drowned it out as she played on louder once more, refusing its pull and washing it away.

  She was free once more to dance with the rhythm… as long as she played. No matter the ache in her hand, she never stopped wanting to play—

  “Enough, child. I already let you play earlier today. Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten what we agreed to.”

  “Twice a day. Morning and evening. That’s the rule. You can come watch TV with me, or stay here—either is fine. But I’m tired of repeating the only rule I have while you live with me.”

  The scent of her aunt’s perfume, heavy with vanilla, hung in the air, mixing with the lingering odor of coffee from the speech she’d just given.

  Lisa knew the stupid rule; she was hoping her aunt would let it slide, at least for today, since the TV was off and her favorite shows were on later.

  Yet with the flicker and buzzing sound in the air, she knew that hope was dashed as the buzzing was soon followed by voices speaking of the weather: “Bright and sunny days all week.”

  Yeah…. Sunny.

  Four steps forward. Touching the dresser, feeling the top, Lisa found her brush. There was a mirror there, she knew, but it was irrelevant. She stared forward, knowing her image stared back with an expressionless face as she brushed her hair.

  An hour twice a day is what she was allowed to play, no more, always feeling like less…

  Passing the time was getting harder as this new life wore on. She knew she could listen to music with earbuds, but it wasn’t the same.

  Even brushing her hair reminded her of the flow of the music, and a familiar pain ached in her chest as she longed to fall back into old habits of playing her violin all day, regardless of what her aunt said.

  Setting down the brush, she figured she’d get something to eat, lest temptation override her desire for civility and getting along with her aunt.

  From dresser, five steps left, feel door frame, move forward, brush hand along wall.

  The sound of the TV got louder. The newscaster went on about summer styles that were in fashion as the wall left her hand. She was in the living room.

  Ten steps forward was the couch. She stopped at five, gently shifted right. Three steps, felt the end table with a lamp, and six more steps forward was the kitchen.

  From there it was a simpler affair, feeling around, testing jars and bowls in the fridge.

  Lisa’s aunt would label things for her in braille, but she still smelled things to be safe.

  She settled on a fruit cup, not really hungry, eating in the silence, trying not to think about the crowd and noise when summer was over and she was forced back to school.

  “Don’t make that face. You know I’m trying.” Her aunt spoke with a hint of scorn.

  “I did not say anything,” Lisa retorted, wondering why she was being judged for her face when she could not even see…

  “You’re judging me for not letting you play more. I told you life’s about compromise. Put in your earbuds and listen to music if it means so much.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  A barking laugh made Lisa’s ears twitch from the sudden burst of noise.

  “Please, child, your music is fine but it’s no different than a hundred other times I heard the violin from my sister before…”

  Silence. Everything stilled. Both tended to forget the wound that put them here and revert to old ways, old speeches that were so easy to say…

  “I… heard it enough,” the aunt finished, her gentle steps shifting from the linoleum to the softer padding of the carpet as she returned to the TV, its volume rising slightly now that a show had caught her interest.

  Lisa’s face shifted into a scowl, and she mimicked her aunt’s voice to herself.

  We had these talks before. Grow up. You know better. You’re not a child. Bla bla bla.

  As if I’m not hurting too, you witch….. It was my mom and dad…

  Sitting in the kitchen was just building her annoyance and she debated sulking in her room, but the smell of her aunt was still a bit strong. She put on too much perfume today. Maybe she did not pay attention and sprayed it on twice or more, but the house was smothering in it and she really wasn’t a fan of vanilla.

  I just need some air. Will feel better with a bit of sun.

  Lisa made it halfway past the couch in silence beyond the blare of the TV, yet when she made it towards the front door grabbing her cane, her aunt’s voice was stern as the TV volume lowered.

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  “I’m going for a walk.” Lisa’s voice was low but firm.

  “I don’t want to go outside just yet. Can you wait a bit? Was debating on washing the dishes,” the aunt replied with a sound of dismissiveness.

  “I did not ask you to come. I need air.”

  “Child, you’re blind. You’ll get lost beyond the front door without me. Just wait.” The volume started to rise on the TV as if the talk was over…

  “I’m blind, not broken. I don’t need you.”

  Lisa flinched at that. The words were an old wound that cut them both, and she had said them clearly, even as the TV blared a random commercial for dog food.

  Yet even unvoiced, she knew her aunt heard her and was not responding…. Should she keep waiting? Just go outside?

  Ring ring. Ring ring.

  The cell phone’s jingle broke the tension of the moment.

  “Hello?” her aunt spoke, and Lisa left, not waiting to hear the end result.

  Yet even as the warmth hit her face and the smell of the air—a mix of dew-laden grass and a slight coolness—she could go no further.

  She still needed…. Approval. Even just from her aunt, some form of acceptance. That she wasn’t broken. She could still live her life.

  So she waited by the door and strained her ears, hoping to hear the annoyed voice of her aunt telling the person on the phone to hold on and demand she get back inside, they will walk later….

  Maybe talk and…. things get better.

  Yet as she strained to hear, fragments of the talk followed and none of the words were demanding the caller to shut up while her aunt chased after her.

  “It’s… I tried…. nobody else will….” Silence stretched for a bit before more words followed. “She won’t listen…. Still the same, I tried….”

  It seems the talks were not in her favor….

  Whatever. I can lead myself.

  Tears betrayed her, sliding over her face. So much for being strong.

  She gently tapped her way down the sidewalk. Twenty steps forward to reach the curb. Go left, one hundred forty steps to the end of the block. Go right, sixty steps to the other end.

  Either direction will have kids and barking dogs. She never could get the timing right where they played, or knew the distance from the barking. The boom from the bark threw off the distance for her….

  She went to the end of the curb in front of her house and debated which direction to go…

  All roads lead to the same place. I’ll still be back here. Maybe Auntie was right and I will just listen to music.

  Walking back, Lisa counted her steps…

  Six… seven… a sudden, sharp pain exploded in her forehead, knocking her back a step.

  She tried looking around before her cheek flushed in shame mixed with her panic of the unknown. Did she miscount?

  Twenty steps to reach the door. Nothing changed….

  Yet the throbbing in her face told her otherwise. Lisa supposed she could have miscounted. It would prove her aunt right—that she was a child who would get lost a mere few feet from the house whose distance she had already miscalculated.

  Probing with her hand, she assumed she would feel the lining of the house and find the door to enter. Hopefully it did not leave a mark so she would not have to explain how she hurt herself.

  Yet the feeling of the lining was off. Like bark? Cold fear washed over her as her hand kept feeling and was met not with a flat surface to guide her to a door, but the rough, round shape of a tree?

  No… that’s impossible. Her house had no trees…

  They were not in the heart of the city like her old home. Her real home.

  Yet that mattered little. What did matter was: where did this tree come from, and why were the smells off?

  The scent of wood hung heavy in the air and a deep earth smell. No dew-grass scent she was used to….

  Chirp chirp.

  Birds?

  They were not unheard of around the house but rare. Yet now it sounded like a sea of them were talking, mocking her confusion as if she wasn’t supposed to be there….

  You stupid birds are lost, not me….

  I just needed to get back to the curb…. I must have walked a little too far left or right to a neighbor’s house and hit their tree….

  She ignored the pain in her face and the shame of the unknown and turned to tap her cane to reorient her steps and try to find her way home. Worst case, she needed to hit a curb and could recount from there.

  Merely a small setback. Nothing more.

  Worst case, someone would pity her and she’d say her address and be guided back. Mild inconvenience to be home and back to the mundane day of self-pity and loneliness that would find her once more.

  Ten… eleven… clink. Odd?

  There should be nothing leading to the sidewalk. She tapped around before reaching with her hand and the fear returned, stronger.

  Another tree….

  That can’t be. Even if a neighbor had trees, they would not have one where the curb should be.

  She calmed her mind. No, that’s stupid. There’s no rule against people having trees….

  Breathing in slowly, then out, Lisa focused. She was just used to the curb, so this was throwing her off. She wondered why she didn’t hear the dogs barking, or random kids playing. Hell, even a random car driving!

  Maybe she was more in a neighbor’s yard than she knew. As much as she hated it, she would tap around and find their house. Once she made it to their front door she’d be recentered and finally able to get home….

  Yet the tapping around did not bring her peace. It only brought more questions….

  Too many trees…. I counted at least four nearby in a small space….

  She kept trying different angles, hoping to get closer to a house or curb, yet each direction stumbled upon a new tree….

  “Hello?”

  “Anyone here? I can’t see and need help,” Lisa spoke firmly, with a bit of a hitch in her voice.

  Her cheeks were flaming cherry-tomato red, she knew, but she would recover and calm once a voice spoke in return.

  “Hello?” Her voice was much softer now, not expecting an answer.

  I can do this. Need to get closer to a house before I randomly yell for help…. At least get closer to kids playing. They will understand and be more kind when they see I’m blind.

  Tap tap tap. More trees….

  Tap tap… more tree….

  Tap tap tap. She dropped her cane…. It was now clear. Every direction she went was more trees….

  Was this a nightmare? It became too much for her mind to handle and she passed out.

  The smell of roots and dirt was strong, as well as a cool earth upon her face. She blinked away the sleep, rubbing her eyes.

  Was it a dream?

  No. That’s stupid. I’m still here.

  Alone.

  She felt the darkness smiling beyond her eyes that saw nothing, yet she felt the abyss was still there watching, waiting for her to give up.

  “Okay… so either I walked into a forest that doesn’t exist or I’m dead and the afterlife is still being blind with more trees that I’m forced to wander in, which honestly makes sense in some cosmic ironic kinda way I guess… maybe.”

  She lay there, debating what to do, when a distant growl—or howl, she was unsure—snapped her focus.

  She grabbed her cane as a weapon and a small comfort. She even swung it forward a few times making a light whooshing sound, before in her panic swings she hit a tree.

  A scream left her lips as she stumbled back, assuming it was the predator, and swung more, tapping the tree furiously to defend herself.

  When she calmed enough to focus, she checked her cane. Mild dents, but okay.

  Trying to focus and calm her breathing and her rapid heartbeat to stop the pounding in her head, she tried to listen.

  The distant growl-bark was still going, yet it shifted. It now sounded as if it was fighting another creature.

  It was not far enough for her to feel safe.

  Well, any noise like that she’d never feel safe…. But she needed to move, so she picked a direction she thought was opposite of whatever that beast was and walked.

  The rhythm of the taps was turning oddly comforting, even as the madness, potential beast, and absurdity hung heavy in the air with each step.

  The trees never ended. Randomly, her cane would hit a bush, and she’d let out a panicked scream as squeaks and chirps erupted from the small things she’d startled, fleeing from her taps.

  The walk felt endless and the growls were long forgotten in the distance, and she now seemed to be reaching a clearing.

  Lisa only knew that due to the fact nothing was there where she tapped, beyond a flat ground. Maybe she was finally back to normal land and would reach people soon.

  It was a long shot but it was all she had. As soon as she heard anyone she would feel safe again.

  God, she would apologize to her aunt. How it came to this she would never know. It made zero sense but whatever.

  Tap tap… odd. There’s nothing there?

  Even as the thought entered her head she could not stop the momentum moving forward. She was used to all the flat land, so it was with great horror and surprise she fell into the abyss she could not see, as there was nothing there.

  Lisa’s last thought: Great…. Even the stupid earth beneath my feet has abandoned me.