Blinded
Fumble Around and About
I hold one of my hands up close to my face, but I can’t fucking see it! I’m blind!
I place my fingers on my face and run one into my eyes. I blink. Yep, my eyes are open! But… I can’t see! I’m blind!
I slowly start walking again – keeping a hand firmly on the wall. I need to find the dressing room and the guys. I need to get to the hospital, but I definitely do not want some huge commotion and wild overreactions from everyone.
Suddenly I feel the wall end, but it’s replaced by the feel of a door handle. One down. Now I just need to follow the wall and find the next door! With a sign on it! Hurray! Fucking shit!
I keep walking – finding the wall again. The wall is kinda rough – little bumps all over. Like it’s made out of rough concrete. The bumps scratch against the palm of my hand like rock. Little scratches here and there, but mainly just the rough, uneven feeling like it’s been sanded down.
I suddenly find another door. I fumble around to find the handle. I finally find it and turn it. But the door doesn’t open. I turn the handle again and press my body against the door – nothing. That guy said it was the second door! Oh, but… To my right or my-
“Gee! Come on, what’re you doing?” I turn around. Dammit! I gotta get better directions from people! Especially when I can’t see a flying fuck!
I walk across the hall carefully. I’m proud of myself when I successfully find the door. Wuhu!
Bob’s laughter is bellowing in the small room. At least it sounds small. These rooms are usually small, anyways!
I’m sure it’s a boring, worn, white color – making it look and feel sterile and impersonal. They all are. I can almost feel the cold feeling radiating from the walls – cooling my skin. Maybe that’s why they paint these rooms white. The white cools you after a show. Good thinking!
I take a few careful steps into the room without holding on to anything. I have a feeling there might be a table somewhere. There usually are. Just inside the door. A crappy table with a white table cloth with water and food and other shit on it.
I gently bump my thigh into the edge.
“Hey, Gerard. You okay?” Okay. I’m gonna tell them. I just hope to fucking god I’m right when I turn to my left. Hopefully I’m not facing the wall!
I can practically feel their worrying stares on me as I turn – my fingertips resting on the table for slight guidance.
“Guys,” I announce – just to make sure I’ve got their attention. I think I already do, but yeah. Better safe than sorry.
“I think I’m blind.” I say this with a light tone of voice, but I know they know I’m not kidding.
They’re silent for about 5 seconds.
“What?!” Mikey yells, before I can hear someone stand up from a leather couch. Wow. It’s amazing how fast I’ve gotten used to relying on my hearing. At least relying on it to tell me what the fuck’s going on around me.
I can hear footsteps coming closer, but the hand on my shoulder shocks me. I didn’t realize Mikey was this close this sudden. At least I think it’s Mikey.
“You serious?” he asks. I sigh and roll my eyes.
“No, Mikes. I’m joking, because I’m such an attention-whore!” I can practically feel his glaring eyes on me, but not for long. Somehow I can feel his facial expression change back into worry.
“Was it the fall? It was, wasn’t it? You hit the back of your head.” He suddenly places a hand on the back of my head, and I wince slightly at the pain. He pulls his hand away.
“We should call an ambulance.” His voice is calm, so I assume he didn’t find any blood back there.
“Why don’t we just start with the paramedics, huh?” I suggest. There’s silent for a second or two.
“Okay,” Mikey whispers.
“I- I’ll find them.” He usually stutters when he’s nervous or worried. I feel sorry for him.
I place my fingers on my face and run one into my eyes. I blink. Yep, my eyes are open! But… I can’t see! I’m blind!
I slowly start walking again – keeping a hand firmly on the wall. I need to find the dressing room and the guys. I need to get to the hospital, but I definitely do not want some huge commotion and wild overreactions from everyone.
Suddenly I feel the wall end, but it’s replaced by the feel of a door handle. One down. Now I just need to follow the wall and find the next door! With a sign on it! Hurray! Fucking shit!
I keep walking – finding the wall again. The wall is kinda rough – little bumps all over. Like it’s made out of rough concrete. The bumps scratch against the palm of my hand like rock. Little scratches here and there, but mainly just the rough, uneven feeling like it’s been sanded down.
I suddenly find another door. I fumble around to find the handle. I finally find it and turn it. But the door doesn’t open. I turn the handle again and press my body against the door – nothing. That guy said it was the second door! Oh, but… To my right or my-
“Gee! Come on, what’re you doing?” I turn around. Dammit! I gotta get better directions from people! Especially when I can’t see a flying fuck!
I walk across the hall carefully. I’m proud of myself when I successfully find the door. Wuhu!
Bob’s laughter is bellowing in the small room. At least it sounds small. These rooms are usually small, anyways!
I’m sure it’s a boring, worn, white color – making it look and feel sterile and impersonal. They all are. I can almost feel the cold feeling radiating from the walls – cooling my skin. Maybe that’s why they paint these rooms white. The white cools you after a show. Good thinking!
I take a few careful steps into the room without holding on to anything. I have a feeling there might be a table somewhere. There usually are. Just inside the door. A crappy table with a white table cloth with water and food and other shit on it.
I gently bump my thigh into the edge.
“Hey, Gerard. You okay?” Okay. I’m gonna tell them. I just hope to fucking god I’m right when I turn to my left. Hopefully I’m not facing the wall!
I can practically feel their worrying stares on me as I turn – my fingertips resting on the table for slight guidance.
“Guys,” I announce – just to make sure I’ve got their attention. I think I already do, but yeah. Better safe than sorry.
“I think I’m blind.” I say this with a light tone of voice, but I know they know I’m not kidding.
They’re silent for about 5 seconds.
“What?!” Mikey yells, before I can hear someone stand up from a leather couch. Wow. It’s amazing how fast I’ve gotten used to relying on my hearing. At least relying on it to tell me what the fuck’s going on around me.
I can hear footsteps coming closer, but the hand on my shoulder shocks me. I didn’t realize Mikey was this close this sudden. At least I think it’s Mikey.
“You serious?” he asks. I sigh and roll my eyes.
“No, Mikes. I’m joking, because I’m such an attention-whore!” I can practically feel his glaring eyes on me, but not for long. Somehow I can feel his facial expression change back into worry.
“Was it the fall? It was, wasn’t it? You hit the back of your head.” He suddenly places a hand on the back of my head, and I wince slightly at the pain. He pulls his hand away.
“We should call an ambulance.” His voice is calm, so I assume he didn’t find any blood back there.
“Why don’t we just start with the paramedics, huh?” I suggest. There’s silent for a second or two.
“Okay,” Mikey whispers.
“I- I’ll find them.” He usually stutters when he’s nervous or worried. I feel sorry for him.