A woosh, a light, and he is aware. He feels the dirt beneath his feet, soft and grainy. He hears the whispers of the wind, wishing, crying for a chance to be heard. He hears them. Their voices make him want to crumble to the floor and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Yet he knows he can’t. He wants to voice his feelings, yet he cannot feel. The boy stands, and turns, as if observing his surroundings. He can’t see anything.
The boy moves his hand to where his eyes should be and he feels a cloth. The boy wonders what this could be. Something put this here; something does not want him to see. So the boy does what anyone would have done. He removes the cloth from his eyes as light fills them. Air fills his lungs as he sucks in a sudden breath.