Sometimes Sollux Captor wondered if the car crash that left him blind actually left him dead, and this was hell.
Pale yellow morning light dripped through the blinds and fell onto the floor. Or, at least, that's what Sollux assumed was happening. Everything was coated in a murky blackness. It had been for five years now, ever since shards of glass and a blow to the head from a car crash resulted in his blindness and his girlfriend, Aradia's, death. It had taken some getting used to, the blindness and the death, but he had slowly moved on. That was then, this is now, he told himself, over and over, day after day. No use mourning over the past. I can't change that.
Grudgingly, Sollux sat up in bed, feeling around on his nightstand for his sunglasses. He didn't really need them, of course, but their presence was somewhat comforting. He'd needed glasses before going blind, and the feeling of them on his face was reassuring. Blindness hadn't changed everything. It always felt like it goddamn had, though.
Tracing a hand along the wall, he made his way to the kitchen. The layout of his entire house was etched into his mind, and he could walk around freely and do chores without much help. In the earlier stages of blindness, his older brother had to do even the simplest tasks for him. Mituna had been patient and awfully nice, more so than he had been before the car crash, but not being able to do the most trivial of things, from doing laundry to making breakfast, was terribly frustrating.
The cupboard was almost empty, Sollux noticed, as he felt around it for a box of cereal. Grocery shopping was torture, but it was inevitable. Sollux hated going out in public in general. It wasn't like home, where he had memorized the position of everything. He constantly bumped into people and closely avoided crashing into things, even after years of practice with the long, thin cane he used to get around. People always asked if it needed help, which felt embarrassing and quite demeaning. He wanted to scream, I'm not a cripple! I don't need your fucking help! However, he just smiled pleasantly and said, "No, I'm all right. Thanks."
After a bowl of corn flakes and a glass of orange juice, Sollux went back to his bedroom to get dressed, pulled on a jacket, and took his cane from its usual place by the front door. Sighing, he reached out towards the door handle, then paused. A bump. A jolt. A scream. Searing pain. Then, nothing. Throwing his cane to the ground, Sollux sank down on his knees, face buried in his hands. Why did that have to happen to me? Why me, God? Why me?
The flashbacks came and went. Mituna was the only one who knew. He's suggested therapy, and Sollux had actually considered it, but had decided against it. He didn't need anybody's help anymore. Angrily wiping away the tears, Sollux picked up his cane and regained his composure. That was then, this is now. That was then, this is now. That was then, this is now…