Page 13 of Light in Your Eyes
I nod. "So, he wants me to help his brother because he'sblind. Did he have a helper before?"
Cole sighs, and I can hear a hint of desperation. "No. Surprisingly, you're going to be his first helper."
Cole closes his eyes and touches the creases of his eyebrows. He seems to be in deep thought all of a sudden. "I guess Jaxon finally realized that Kellan needed someone, especially while he was away."
"Away?"
"Jaxon is in Italy." Cole opens his eyes again. A look of determination crosses his expression. "He's been there for years. I was assigned to work with him, which is why I have to go back there as soon as possible."
I'm about to ask more questions when he continues speaking. He faces me again. "Look, you have two tasks." Cole is studying me, as though he's trying to see if I'm the right person for it. "First, while you're living in the house, you have to assist Kellan at all times. And second, if he goes out, you have to accompany him. He can't go out without you. He rarely does anyway, so you may think less about the second one. Kellan prefers to spend most of his time in the house, no matter how suffocated he feels."
"Can you tell me more about him?" I ask.
Sadness glints in Cole’s eyes. "Kellan has a painful past, and I don't think that he has recovered from that," he says. "He lost his eyesight in a car crash, in which his parents and little sister died. He was the only survivor of that accident, and he was still a little boy."
My hand shoots to my mouth. I can't imagine what Kellan went through. It was tragic.
I don't know how a little boy could recover from that traumatic incident mentally. One would never recoverfrom it.
Cole's jaw tightens, as though he's angry that such tragedy happened and that there's nothing we can do about it. "Kellan accepted that fate, but he can't let go of his grudge. Martial arts help him let out his anger, even so, it's not enough."
My stomach churns with every word coming out of Cole's mouth. I'm starting to doubt if I'm good enough for this job.
"Unfortunately, Jaxon can't look out for him all the time, especially now that most of us have to finish our task in Italy," Cole says with slight guilt in his voice. "Kellan needs someone to take care of him."
I knew that I had to be prepared to give mental support to a person with a disability when I accepted the job, but I didn't expect this kind of story.
"But, why me?" My voice is a whisper, filled with uncertainty. "There are many other applicants who are professionals and might be more qualified to be his helper. Why did you entrust him to me?"
I'm just a girl who is used to taking care of my blind grandmother. I'm nobody compared to professional caregivers.
"I'm not sure. As I said, Jaxon chose you out of the other applicants." Cole leans back against the seat. "He told me that most of them are way older, while he wanted someone around the same age as Kellan to be his friend."
I go silent, shifting my gaze toward the window as I allow my thoughts to wander around the possibility of what may happen.
The longer the journey continues, the more I feelnervous. I've always been optimistic, but something about the surrounding atmosphere—this car, the deserted street around me, and Cole—makes me strangely uncomfortable, as though there's something more of it.
"I hope that you're not changing your mind after hearing my explanation. I'm afraid that it's too late to do that now," Cole's voice echoes beside me.
My heart starts to beat rapidly inside my chest. The rest of the ride is too silent, and there are times I feel Cole's eyes on me, as if he's trying to figure out what kind of person I really am.
The air inside the car feels colder although nobody changes the temperature, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm having either a hallucination or panic attack. Even the street outside seems odd, and the night turns darker.
We're passing an area where the surrounding houses are too big with yards that seem to never end—probably the owners don't even know their neighbors. The longer we continue our journey, there are fewer houses we pass.
Until there is none.
Not only the houses are missing but also the street lamps.
On the other side of the window, it's pitch black. I can't see anything. If it's not for the car headlights illuminating the road in front of us, I'm sure that the driver won't even make it and we will be stuck in this darkness.
My hands are sweaty as I hold them in my lap. My brain and my body are telling me to change my mind. My instinct is warning me that something is wrong with this job and that I shouldn't be here.
But my heart—even though it's racing right now—can'thelp but think about the young man staying inside this house I will step into.
Lonely.
Blind.
