My Eyes Paid Your Debt

I stood by the window, my fingertips tracing the rough fabric of the blackout sleep mask that covered my eyes.

Three years. For three years, fumbling through a world of shadows has been my normal.

It all started with an accidenta flashlight beam caught my younger brothers eyes while I was looking for a torch during a power outage. He had weak vision back then, a delicate condition. My mother didn't see it as an accident. She saw it as a calculated strike. Without a word of explanation, she began administering "treatment" to meunknown dilating drops that stung like acid.

"You want to know what its like for him?" she had hissed, her voice a jagged blade in the dark. "Fine. If you won't empathize with your brother, I'll make sure you have no choice. Only then will you understand how miserable his world is."

Every time the drops hit my corneas, the pain was agonizing. Any hint of light sent tears streaming down my face, hot and unstoppable. Eventually, the pain became too much, and I was forced to wear this mask permanently to keep the world out.

Today was my brothers eighteenth birthday. I felt my way toward my mother, catching the hem of her cardigan. I kept my voice small, hopeful. "Mom, Tylers an adult now. Haven't I been punished enough?"

She wrenched her arm away as if my touch were toxic. "Three years and youre already whining? Your brother was born with this! He has to live a lifetime in the blur!"

"Hes so fragile, and you still try to bait him," she spat, her heels clicking toward the door. "Keep the drops going." The door slammed, the sound echoing in my hollow chest.

I let out a shaky breath, but it was drowned out by a burst of cheering from the backyard. Tylers friends were there.

"Ty, man, youre a freaking legend! Ten bullseyes in a row? Since that corrective surgery, your vision is better than all of ours combined!"

"It was never that bad to begin with," Tylers voice drifted in, smug and casual. "Mom just likes to blow things out of proportion."

I froze. The room seemed to tilt on its axis.

Tylers eyes were fixed. He could see. He could see perfectly.

I slowly reached up and peeled back the mask. I stared into the hallway mirror, though all I saw was a hazy, gray smear where my reflection should be. My eyes were bloodshot, the pupils blown wide and fixed, staring at nothing.

Six months ago, I had secretly swapped the medication for plain water. But it didn't matter. The damage was done. Whether it was a "punishment" or not was irrelevant now.

Because I was truly, irrevocably blind.

I reached for the small silver arrow pendant around my neckthe one Mom gave me when I won my first state archery championship. She used to say my eyes were like North Stars, guiding every shot. Now, the stars had gone out.

With a sudden, sharp jerk, I ripped the necklace off.

"Yo, Ty! Your recovery is honestly insane," a voice boomed as the front door swung open.

"I told you, its all in the focus. Honestly, I think the 'weakness' just made me train harder," Tyler replied, his voice brimming with the confidence of a golden boy.

I heard themTyler and his pack of friendsstriding into the living room, their footsteps heavy and vibrant. I pressed my palm against the wallpaper, using it as a guide to shuffle toward them. I had to tell her. I had to tell Mom that it wasn't a game anymore. My eyes were broken. Really broken.

"Mom..."

My voice was a raspy ghost of itself. Immediately, I felt a sharp, piercing gaze hit my face.

"Cassidy? Who told you that you could take that mask off?"

I instinctively moved to cover my eyes, but Mom was already there. She grabbed my wrists, her fingers digging into my skin.

"Your brother struggles every day, and you have the nerve to flaunt your sight in front of him? What, you think you're better than him because your eyes 'work'?"

She didn't care that his friends were watching. She didn't care about the scene. She was vibrating with a misplaced, manic protective rage.

I heard the boys shifting uncomfortably.

"Wait, is that your sister? Wasn't she the Junior Olympic hopeful? What happened?"

"I thought she went away to college," another whispered. "She looks... sick."

"Tyler, youre fine now. Why isn't she getting help? The coach said she was a once-in-a-generation talent. She was supposed to go pro."

Tyler let out a dry, dismissive laugh. "She had a bit of a setback. Moms handling it. Shell be fine."

"Too bad," one of them muttered. "Since she dropped off the map, nobodys even come close to her records."

Mom yanked me upward, her grip bruising my shoulder as she shoved me down onto the sofa. "You clearly haven't learned your lesson," she hissed near my ear. "Double doses today."

The pungent, chemical smell of the drops filled the air.

"Mom, please. Stop. Im begging you..."

I struggled, but I was weak. Tears, thick and laced with broken capillaries, leaked from the corners of my eyes, blurring the nothingness even further.

I flashed back to being ten years old, coming home with a gold medal. Back then, Mom was obsessed with protecting my vision. She wouldn't even let me look at a screen for more than thirty minutes. She visited three different specialists before shed even let me use basic hay fever drops.

Now, she was a stranger. A woman so consumed by the perceived unfairness of Tylers life that she was willing to extinguish mine to balance the scales.

I was shoved aside as the group moved to the dining table. The smell of roasted chicken and garlic potatoes wafted over, making my stomach churn with nausea. I heard the clinking of silverware, the sounds of a family celebrating Tylers acceptance into the sports academy.

"My boy," Mom said, her voice dripping with pride. "With your vision back to 20/20, theres nothing you can't do."

I huddled in the corner of the sofa, squinting, trying to make out the shapes on the table. I was starving. I reached out a trembling hand toward where I thought the bread basket was, but my coordination was gone.

At that moment, Tyler leaned back, gesturing wildly as he told a joke. His elbow caught my arm.

The bowl of scalding hot gravy I hadn't seen tipped over. It drenched his brand-new tracksuit.

"Crap! My new gear!" Tyler shrieked. "Cass, watch what you're doing! You're cleaning this!"

The laughter in the room died instantly. I felt the air grow cold. Mom slammed her fork onto the table.

"Cassidy. Was that on purpose?"

"Mom, I... I couldn't see it," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I didn't mean to..."

"Stop lying!" Mom stood up, her voice rising to a scream. "Youve been using those drops for three years. You aren't blind. Tyler was born with it and he never acted this pathetic!"

"If you want to play the martyr, do it in your room. Don't you dare ruin this day for your brother. Get out. Now."

I stood up, my eyes throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache. I refused to cry in front of them. I turned to walk away, but with the world a kaleidoscope of gray smears, I miscalculated the turn.

Crack.

My shoulder slammed into the sharp edge of the mahogany hutch. I gasped as a searing pain shot through my arm, and my forehead hit the wood next. I felt a knot rising instantly, but behind me, I only heard Mom telling Tyler to eat his dinner.

They didn't even look back.

Ever since Tylers condition worsened years ago, I became the family's designated scapegoat. Any mistake meant "reflection time" in the storage closet. I opened the door to the small, windowless room, the scent of dust and mildew greeting me. It didn't matter that it was dark. It was always dark now.

I sat on a small wooden stool, my hands searching the drawer of the old desk. My fingers brushed against a cold, plastic surface. The family photo album.

I opened the first page. Even though it was a blur, the memories were etched into my brain. There was one of me as a toddler, holding baby Tyler. Our parents were beaming, their faces full of a future that hadn't turned rotten yet. There were photos of my first bow, my first trophy. Mom used to be my biggest fan.

When did it change?

As Tylers vision faded, Moms love morphed into something jagged. My success became an insult to him. My sight became a debt I owed him. I used to think that if I won enough, if I got a big enough scholarship, I could pay for his cure.

The irony was a bitter pill. I had saved his eyes, only to have mine stolen by the person who gave them to me.

I don't know how long I sat there in the dark. Eventually, the door was wrenched open.

"Cassidy, the guests are gone. Are you going to rot in here? Get out and do the dishes."

I didn't have the strength to move. My eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead. When I didn't respond, she grabbed me by the hair and hauled me up.

"Stop acting! Youre fine! You just don't want to work."

She forced my eyelids open, staring at my dilated, unresponsive pupils for a split second. I felt her hand tremble, just once.

"Why are they so wide...?" she muttered to herself. "Its probably because you were sleeping in the dark. Its a natural reaction."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a new bottle. "Stop the drama. These are high-quality restorative drops. Use them, sleep, and youll be fine by morning."

The familiar, burning sting returned. I didn't fight her. I let the darkness take me.

The next morning, a sliver of lighta muddy, gray smearreturned. I could see the vague outlines of the kitchen cabinets. It was a miracle, or so I thought.

I wanted to be good. If I was perfect, maybe shed listen. I spent an hour painstakingly making her favorite breakfastlemon ricotta pancakes and fresh coffee.

When she sat down, her expression softened by a fraction. "At least youre being useful for once."

I sat across from her, my voice small and desperate. "Mom, Tyler is better now. Ive done my time. Three years... Please, can we go to a real doctor? I want to go back to the range. I miss the bow. I want to compete again."

Mom paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. She looked at my bloodshot eyes, a flicker of somethingguilt, maybe?crossing her face. "Fine. Now that Tyler is settled at the academy, I suppose we could..."

"Mom! My stomach is still messed up from yesterday!"

Tyler lounged into the room, wearing his expensive new athletic gear. He smirked at me, that entitled, cat-like grin he always wore.

"Cass, remember when you won that state title? You told me Id always be a 'little loser' who could never even hold a bow. That hurt, you know? You think a few pancakes makes up for years of being looked down on?"

My heart plummeted. "Tyler, I never said that. I never, ever mocked you!"

He shrugged. "I remember it differently. But hey, I guess when you're the 'star,' you forget the people you step on."

Moms face turned to stone. she stood up and scraped the pancakes into the trash.

"Cassidy, you're unbelievable. Youre still trying to manipulate us? After everything I've done to keep this family together?"

"Mom, I didn't! Hes lying!" I reached for her sleeve, but the world was darkening again, the gray smears turning to black ink. "Mom! I really can't see! Its happening again! If we don't go now, Im going to be blind forever!"

"Enough with the theatrics! Tyler wouldn't lie about that! You're just bitter because hes the one with the future now!"

"You claim you can't see? Then who cooked this breakfast? A ghost?"

"Mom, please... no..."

Tyler stood back, likely thinking this was just another round of our lifelong sibling rivalry. He didn't realize the stakes. He didn't realize he was playing with the last flickers of my life.

Mom continued to scream, but as the world went pitch black, her voice seemed to drift away. A hollow, freezing cold settled in my bones. I turned toward the sound of her breathing and spoke softly.

"Mom... if I disappeared one day... would you miss me?"

There was a beat of silence. Then, a sharp, dismissive scoff.

"What kind of game is this? Honestly, if you disappeared, maybe Id finally have some peace. I wouldn't have to look at your 'poor me' face every day."

"Go back to your hole, Cassidy. Get out of my sight."

She stormed out.

"Cass?" Tylers voice was closer now, teasing. "You ruined my gear yesterday, I was just messing with you. Why aren't you laughing? Don't be such a drama queen."

He leaned in, his warm breath hitting my face. I forced a smilea jagged, broken thing. I just wanted to get to my room.

I turned, counting the steps in my head, but my foot caught on something.

CRASH.

I tripped over the trash can where shed dumped the food. The cold, sticky mess covered me. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just crawled through the filth, trying to find the wall.

One step. Two.

THUD.

My knee hit the corner of the coffee table. I went down again. This time, my forehead cracked against the hardwood floor. I felt a warm, sticky liquid trickling down my brow.

I could hear my father and Tyler nearby. I could hear their breathing.

But nobody moved to help me.

I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up, determined to stand. But my legs were like jelly. I took one step and collapsed again.

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

Falling, rising, falling. The living room wasn't large, but the journey felt like crossing a continent. Blood ran into my eyes, stinging, but I couldn't tell if it was blood or tears anymore.

"...Cassidy?" My fathers voice finally held a note of genuine fear.

"Enough!" Mom yelled, marching back in. "Stop this! You're making a scene just for attention!"

She grabbed her newest bottle of drops. "This is the medicine! Im going to give you one more dose, and if you keep 'acting' blind after this, Im done with you!"

She pinned me down, forcing my eye open. The cold liquid hit.

This time, there was no burn.

There was nothing.

My eyes were dead.

"Why... why aren't her pupils reacting?" Mom whispered, her voice suddenly thin. "Cassidy? Look at me. Why isn't it working?"

I "looked" at her, my face a mask of terrifying calm.

"Mom," I whispered, my voice a dry husk. "In the next life... please don't punish me. I don't want to be in the dark anymore."