It was dark. I heard voices around me but I couldn't make out the words. It was almost like having blurred hearing. I knew there were people around me but I felt alone, isolated. I opened my eyes. Still dark. I lifted a hand to feel my head and was surprised at the weight of my arm. Trying to raise my head, dizziness came over me. I dropped back down at the searing that went through my neck and ears. I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a muffled voice. Then it was gone.

I lay still, afraid that any movement would cause pain. Then slowly, things became clearer. I recognised the sound of footsteps, distant music. Or was the music in my head? But soon the tune lulled me to sleep and exhaustion took over.

Beep. Beep.

I was in a bed - a scratchy bed. I had no idea where I was and the constant beeping next to me brought back the painful headache from before. What had happened before? I couldn't remember. I heard a voice, this time with words. I opened my eyes to pitch black darkness.

"Kayla, you're awake." I knew that voice.

"Mom?" I managed.

Beep. Beep.

"Yes."

"Where am I? What happened? Why does my head hurt?"

"Your head hurts?"

"Yeah, it has been since I woke up here. Why is everything dark?"

"Hang on; I'm calling the nurse..."

And I was alone again. I strained my ears for something, anything. But no one and nothing came. I was beginning to grow frustrated, which only increased the throbbing in my head. I felt around me. I was in what felt like a bed, with a thin scratchy blanket. Beside me the beeping continued endlessly. I reached for the back of my head and found a bandage wrapped tightly around my scalp. I searched my mind for an answer. How could this have possibly happened? Did someone put me here? Have I always been here? I brought my hand back to my side as I heard faint footsteps approaching.

"She seems very disorientated," I heard my mom say quietly.

"Well, yes, that's quite common in concussions. It'll take a few days for her mind to clear up." The other voice sounded firmer.

I shifted in the bed and sat up slowly. "What's going on?" Someone came nearer.

"Ah, Kayla, I'm your nurse. My name's Claire. You said your head hurts?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just going to change your bandage and give you some medicine, alright?" I nodded, but stopped when it caused pain. Claire gently lifted my head and unwound the bandage. "That's looking good." She rolled me onto my side and I felt a cool material on my head. "It should help the swelling." The medicine did its job; I was told it came from a tube in my arm. But still I saw nothing. Claire sensed my discomfort.

"Something wrong?" She was on my left, probably sitting.

"Everything's dark."

"Can you see me?" I turned to my left. "I'm on your right. Guess you can't. Don't worry; it should all come back soon."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Why don't you get some rest? You've had a tough week."

What felt like a lifetime passed. I slept just about most of the time, accompanied by the beeping next to me that I was told had been removed. Claire came and went, so did my mom as well as my dad. One morning, I sat in bed, eating hospital breakfast with my dad next to me.

"Your friends visited," he said. "But they weren't allowed in."

"Oh."

"You remember your friends, right?" he asked. I could hear the frown in his voice.

I nodded. "I told you. My memory's fine. The only thing that's gone is what happened to me. I don't understand how I got a concussion."

He sighed then grew silent. "So you remember nothing from that night?"

I finished the bowl of porridge and felt for the table next to me, placing it slowly with caution. Sensing his gaze on me, I turned to him. "What?"

"You can't see anything can you?"

"So? The nurse said I would soon."

"It's been a week, Kayla." I lay back down and sighed. "You've been in this hospital for two weeks. If I was you, I would be in hysterics."

"If you were me, you'd have nothing to be in hysterics about. Okay, so I can't see; I don't understand how I got here; and I'm still hungry - but I've got nothing to compare it to. For all I know, this is what I'm supposed to feel like right now."

"But it isn't. Don't you want to know what happened?"

"Yes! I've tried. The last thing I remember is being in significant pain."

"Maybe you should get some rest."

"Dad, that's all I've been doing for the last two weeks. I want to do something. I'm sick of this hospital bed."

I imagined my dad sitting beside the bed. I knew his brown eyes would be dull. They used to sparkle but that was before Camryn left us.

Nineteen days I'd been there and nothing was different. I felt tired all the time, even though I slept all of the time. The doctors kept saying I was fine, but I wondered if they were just saying that, if something was wrong and they weren't sure what was. They kept on saying my sight will come back, but when they kept doing tests on my brain, I couldn't trust anything they said anymore. Claire did the same routine every time I woke and it was driving me crazy. Not just the really bad food. Scans and questions and exhaustion and more questions and meeting new people who are supposedly there to help me. Every single day.

My head was swirling with thoughts and voices and images that my brain conjured up in my sleep. I was remembering a dream about Camryn when someone came into the room and sat down next to the bed.

"Claire, is that morphine used up? My head's driving me crazy." It was, but not so much with pain.

"I'll check." The voice that spoke was deeper than I expected. I turned onto my left side to face the chair.

"Matthew?" I exclaimed. "How come you're here?"

"I thought you'd be happier to see me," Matthew said, giving me a tight hug. "You have no idea how worried we all were. But today they finally allowed other people besides family to see you."

"How are the others?" I asked and Matthew handed me something.

"Flowers, from Jordan. He was beside himself with worry - he even declined a fifth piece of pizza."

I chuckled. "Seriously? Well, tell him I appreciate it." I lifted the flowers to my face and recognised the scent of roses. I laughed internally at Jordan's antics. Roses? He knew I didn't particularly like flowers but he also loved to irritate me. I appreciated the gesture, but mostly his humour.

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm ready to go home."

"Well, maybe the doughnuts I brought you will help," he said, placing a box in my free hand and I felt my spirits rise.

"You are literally the best friend ever." Matthew just chuckled then opened the box for me, letting out the aroma of warm chocolate. I inhaled the delicious smell. "Doughnuts were Camryn's favourite." I smiled sadly, biting into one. "Wow, I've missed non-hospital food so much."

The room fell silent besides my chewing which I was pretty sure even the people in the next room could hear. Matthew declined a doughnut when I offered, saying that I needed catching up to do on my food. I soon became tired again and fell asleep before Matthew left, with my stomach happily full of chocolate.

I sat on the hospital bed while Claire took down notes on a clipboard. The doctor was making one of her rare visits.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to do more tests on her," she said.

"Uh, what tests? I'm not a guinea pig," I protested.

The doctor sighed. She sounded exhausted. "We still need to determine what exactly is causing your loss of sight, Kayla. It's not a simple process."

I cleared my throat. "I thought you said my sight would come back?" An awkwardness fell over the room.

"Well, we thought." She paused.

"What do you mean you thought?" My dad questioned and I sat up.

"I mean that, according to the results of your last scan, we now see that the concussion damaged your optic nerve, causing you to go blind."

No one spoke. My mom sat beside me on the bed. She spoke first. "Forever?"

"I'm afraid so," answered the doctor.

"So you're telling me that even though you know this for certain, you're still doing tests? How does that make any sense?" I said.

The doctor sighed, "I told you we need to know for sure that the damage was caused by the concussion and not an actual injury-"

"Look," I interrupted, "I don't care what caused it; you have to fix it. I don't want to be basically blind for - the rest of my life!"

"There's nothing we can do."

I felt frustration running through my veins. All I wanted was to go home and forget this ever happened and sleep in my own bed. Was that so hard to understand?

"Well then why can't I go home? Then I can actually do something useful with my time instead of waiting around here for a miracle to happen -"

"Kayla," my father tried.

"No. I want to leave. Somebody get me out of this room." I started to stand up but fell back down onto the bed. "Somebody help me!"

"Head hurts?" the nurse asked. I nodded angrily. "The wound isn't fully healed yet. I would stay here until it is better."

I groaned. Then to my dismay my eyes started to well up. I pulled back the urge to cry as the same old pain mingled inside. The headache mixed with loss - of both my sister and my sight. Physical mixed with mental. As though the two realms met inside my mind and collided, causing an explosion. Like those reactions that happen in space that scientists think made the universe - even though that's completely absurd. How could something so simple create something so complex? How could something like my sister's death create such a huge mess?

I failed and let the tears roll down my cheeks. The tightness in my throat spread to my chest and my fists and my legs as I forced my body to stand up and walk towards the door or my dad - anything. The same rush of emotions - now with a new surge to it - began to trickle. Then, as I felt myself start to shake with the weeping, it erupted inside, gushing out and pouring its weight from the container within me. On and on I cried. My headache grew worse. But I cried. On and on.

I don't want to be blind; I don't want to be blind. I don't want my sister to be dead. I want her back and I want my old life back and everything that's better than this. Because everything is better than this. Anything is better than living without her.

I felt a hand on my shoulder but shoved it off. I squeezed my eyes open. Grey. I sniffed. Someone gathered me into a hug and I stood helplessly as they squeezed me tightly. Then I returned the embrace and buried my face into their shoulder.

"I know it hurts, but let it hurt." It was my mom. I nodded.