...n she says see, that means she simply feels the dress and imagines it in her head.
I hesitantly walked over to her, and she reached out her little hand. She ran it over the soft fabric and she smiled. “It’s beautiful, sister.” But when she ran it up to ones spot, she flinched back. “What are you wearing?! That shows too much skin, go put on a jacket or something, Luchia!”
I shook my head, tears randomly starting in my eyes. “All right.”
“We don’t want perverted boys looking at you that way!”
“Mauria!” I snapped, rolling my eyes. Yeah right, no boy ever looking in my direction for I never looked in his.
I started to walk to the door, when I heard Mauria complain. “Why me, mom?! Why can’t this happen to someone else?! I hate not being able to see! I can’t even see my own sister’s dress! This sucks.”
Tears prickled down my cheek and I walked back in to find her shaking her head.
“Every day I feel sick, and tired! I hate it! I hate it!” She started yelling and mom hushed her. I ran forth and gave her a comforting hug. “I don’t want to die, Luchia. I’m scared.” She started crying, the hardest I’ve ever seen. Never in my life have I seen ...