Julia SintPd 4

“Annie”

I let the silence fill the room.

The darkness slithered its way into our corner as the sun continued to fall. We built this

stagnant anticipation for a complete blackout. The sort of darkness where you hold your hand

smack in front of you and see nothing but black. Annie called it a Blindfold.

We curled ourselves into the top left corner of the mattress and watched as the light

slowly dismissed itself. I wrapped Annie in a blanket and placed her in my lap, her breath kept

me warm.

There was one lone bed that we occupied. The room was essentially unfurnished

otherwise. Soon, it would not matter.

The darkness intensified and while our vision diminished, our voices amplified.

“Annie, can you see me?”

“No.”

“Perfect.”

“Now sing to me,” I murmured.

Annie began with a low melody. Her voice resonated throughout the room. This is how

we would end the night.

At the break of dawn, I would step just outside the room and prop myself up on the

sidewalk hoping to rake in at least enough for breakfast. The empty cup in front of me sat there,

a mere obstacle for most pedestrians. I could feel my cheeks glowing red. I swore they lit up the

whole street.

People pass me day to day, and of course there’s the inevitable judgement. People

assume.

Oh, she’s lazy.

Dirty bitch can’t even get herself a job at McDonalds.

There’s no way I can write my life story on a measly piece of cardboard. Not that people

would care to read it anyway. No one knows about Annie. No one knows of the abandonment

we’ve faced because all they see is a burned out middle aged woman begging for spare change.

It’s all so cliche. Allow me to be the typical ‘men are jerks’ type of woman. Allot me this

time because what kind of man, what kind of husband, what kind of father packs their bags in the

dead of night to never return?

He left a note. Thank you so much, sir. He simply did not love us anymore. Relationships

are complicated, but basing this on love alone, that was black and white.

For him, the love was gone and the rest followed suit. He packed, despite him being the

sole provider for our family. We were a family.

It’s funny how blinding love can be. You dive into a relationship with full intentions that

this is forever, because moments with him feel like forever. I stripped myself of all the other gifts

life had to offer me to dive into what turned out to be shallow water. He was a mistake. After

Annie, I quit my job to devote my life to her. I would support Annie, but with his departure, who

would support us?

Exactly.

I had a small stash of cash hidden under the mattress worth enough to keep up with this

barren cave of a home, but I was to use it sparingly. Begging was my temporary fix to ration the

money. It was only a matter of time until I would slide my hand under the bed to pull out wads of

nothingness.

With that, we would live off of good Samaritans. It was a risky system, one that I made

sure Annie would be oblivious to for as long as possible.

I entered the room carrying two servings of warm bread. Annie sat up from her covers

and gave me a big grin. It never occurred to her to question anything but the current moment. We

feasted on what little we had. Our time together allowed me to detach myself from reality and

our current situation. Youth is a temporary gift. Annie was born in a vacation where her

imagination overrode all actuality.

When I was with her, I entered this isolated paradise. It was me and her and all that

mattered was that at the end of the day, I could come home and she would bring me the same

naive joy that filled her being. That was why it was my responsibility to keep her on this pedestal

and not let her fall into the abyss of the present.

The next day, I woke before the sun and searched for the neon lights that called

employment. These signs, they are the kinds of things that millions of people pass countless

times a day and offer no meaning to them. Suddenly when needed, all existence of such things

seem to vanish. I could smell the odor of my insides, it was an unproductive day and the guilt

welled up in me.

“Thank you.”

“God Bless you.”

“Very kind of you.”

I returned to our home with a tupperware container filled up to the rim with soup, to get

us through the chilly day. Our plastic spoons desperately scraped the bottom of the container

before admitting defeat, it was all gone. I was not sure when the next meal would come but I

could not let that show on my face.

Annie and I sprawled ourselves across the bed and then she came and snuggled her face

onto my shoulder. She stared into my eyes as a slight smirk spread across her face. The lines

under my eyes grew heavy. Annie grabbed my hand, “Please don’t worry, ma.”

I couldn’t reply, the tears behind my eyes somehow found their way around my throat.

Instead, I embraced her and we soon dozed off into a deep sleep.

At the sound of Annie’s muffled snores, I snuck out of the house in a second attempt to

support us. At times like this, persistence is key. It was peculiar, having to continue parading

down the same streets and running into the same faces of local pedestrians on their own normal

routes in their own regular routines. That was something I longed for.

Instead, I would frantically run from block to block to maximize my searching time all

while slapping pedestrians with this lousy cup praying that they see the anguish behind my

insanity. Time was running out.

Did you know two dollars will feed us for the rest of the day?

Spare me.

I won’t buy alcohol, I promise. I know that’s what you’re thinking.

I know you see me.

There was no meal for today. Unless you know where I can buy one for 45 cents, today is

a day of hunger.

That night, we curled back into our positions in the top left crevice of our mattress. The

sun was already setting, painting the sky a mix of faded auburns and fuchsias.

At that moment, the sound of a knock interrupted our countdown. When I got to the door,

the light from the street lamp flooded in and shattered the darkness.

No one was there.

I stuck my head out cautiously into the neighborhood as a car faded into the distance. A

breeze heaved down the road. I turned back into the room to hear the rustling of a paper.

I should’ve seen it coming. There was a poster plastered on the door; our home was being

foreclosed.

My breath caught short and I threw my head back in an attempt avoid my tears from

visibly falling. My knees collapsed and I sat there hoping the darkness would swallow me

entirely.

Two small hands clasped around my head and covered my eyes; all I could see was

black. Then I heard Annie’s voice, it was soft and soothing. Through my hard breaths, I could

hear Annie’s words comfort me with each passing minute.

Annie guided us back to the mattress, I walked in her steps. She ran her fingers through

my hair and sang. With that, I let myself break and caved into the sound of Annie. She saw my

weary, I languished as she continued to serenade me with this melodious tune.

She didn’t seem to falter, Annie was like that. She never questioned anything but the

precise moment in which she lived, and she knew that in that moment, this time I needed her. I

was far from the paradise imagination had to offer me, but I wasn’t alone. Part of my burden was

released. Annie could accept it.

My eyes were wide open but that didn’t seem to matter, the darkness made sure of that. It

was the Blindfold. That was how we ended the night.