saved by Midas

Saved by Midas

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted a dog. I’ve never been allowed one though, mum says I’m like King Midads’ unlucky younger brother, but everything I touch tends to die. This is not actually as sinister as it’s starting to seem, but there’s a list as long as my arm of failed attempts of another life form being put into the care of me.
The fist of these incidents happened when I was six. For my birthday I was allowed to chose a fish from the big tank in ‘pets at home’. It was all very exciting! I called my fish Fluffy and talked to him through the plastic bag all the way home. I then decided that Fluffy would like to look out the car window, and well you can probably guess what happened next. Fluffy didn’t make it home.
Then there was the sunflower growing competition me and my brother had. It wasn’t completely my fault I forgot to water it, but I forget what my excuse was now. But anyway, my sunflower was dead within a week. I felt really bad for killing my sunflower so my Mum decided she would buy me a cactus which are virtually impossible to kill because you don’t actually have to do anything to them, well that’s what she though. Unfortunately I didn’t know that it is possible to give a cactus too much water and unfortunately my cactus drowned and died. Yes I drowned a cactus, actually quite an achievement when you think about it!
All through this period in my life, my best friend James lived next-door to us and he did have a dog, a tranquil Labrador called Goldie who I loved to play with. And then for his eight birthday, James’ parents got him a puppy which he called Rover, but he refused to let me play with after I hit it in the face with a cricket bat (on my defence he did creep up behind me).
I decided I wasn’t going to talk to James any more and when my birthday came up the next month, I asked my parents if I could have a puppy. As you could probably imagine the answer was ‘don’t be ridiculous’. Mum was absolutely positively against the idea. But that was before the accident that turned my whole life on its head, quite literally.
It was just after my birthday when it happened; I had got some new football boots, not a dog. Dad and I were in the car on the way back from one of my away matches that had been miles away and we’d been stuck in traffic for half-an-hour not moving. The mood in the car was dull and monotonous and it was swelteringly hot. Worst of all, we were both in foul moods. We’d had another dog argument; they were a regular occurrence in our hose nowadays. We were both sitting in silence looking out of the windows, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. That’s when the lorry hit us.
The car was spent spinning through the back-log of traffic clogging up the road. My stomach was twisting, my heart was pounding against my chest and there was a huge lump in my throat, I thought I was going to throw up. If you’ve ever heard the expression ‘butterflies in your stomach’ that’s how I felt, but instead of butterflies there was an angry swarm of bees romping around my insides, stinging whatever came into their path sending pain blazing through my body. My limbs were limp as if they were no longer part of my body. I watched helplessly as the road outside span past my eyes in a blur, I heard screaming and the screeching of brakes and car horns. The noise was incredible, I thought my ears were bleeding, I cried out for it to stop again and again. And then it did.
I could hear an unfamiliar voice calling my name,
“Alex, Alex honey, wake up. Alex?”
It was a woman’s voice, calm and soothing. I felt her gentle touch on my arm. I sat up slowly, my head was heaving and painful, it was like I was in a dream. I felt confuse and dizzy, I had no idea where I was. I tried to open my eyes but I couldn’t, they were stuck tight. I gave on final yank on my eyelids and I felt them slowly fuse open. I expected to be filled with the glory and light of the room and have the opportunity to finally work out where I was. But instead my head was filled with black, no light, no nothing, just blackness. I was so bewildered and I started to panic. I blinked and blinked again, but still nothing. I suddenly felt a wave of nausea rush through my body; I thought I was going to vomit. I fell back onto the pillow. Then the voice started to speak again.
“Yes, you must be very tired. You should get some sleep.” It said. I swallowed hard mustering the last of my remaining energy.
“Where am I?”A voice croaked out from somewhere inside me, “what’s going on?”
“You’re in the hospital Alex; you’ve had a nasty accident. I’m Grace and I’m your nurse. I’m here to look after you. Your Dad is safe, he’s in the ward next door and you Mother and brother are on their way now.”
I felt relieved, slightly, but there were still so many questions whirring around in my head. But one stood out in front of all the others in my brain,
“Why can’t I see anything? My eyes are open but I can’t see. Why?” I was starting to worry.
“Alex dear, the doctor has checked you over and you’re fine apart from a few cuts and grazes. But you hit your head pretty hard in the crash and you’ve damaged your brain, it’s the part of the brain that helps you to see so unfortunately,” she paused and I heard her sigh, “you’ve lost your sight. It’s made you blind.”
Emotions started to buzz around in my head, fright, confusion and anxiety. Was what I had just heard true? It was obvious that I couldn’t see, but would this really be forever? I thought about it, turning the idea over in my head. How was I supposed to react to this?
I thought about Grace, it must not be a very fun job, having to break the bad news to children that have ended up in hospital. She would have to watch them kick off and throw tantrums. It would be really hard watching a child go through so much pain and confusion and not be able to help them. Grace was just the messenger and for her, things like this happened every day, like an old record gong round and round painfully slowly. But I didn’t want to kick off and cause a scene, partly because I didn’t have the energy. So instead I slid down into the bed, pulling the covers up over my nose. I closed my eyes, not that it made a difference. I heard Grace get up and leave. I was proud of myself, I had showed the first signs of maturity probably ever in my life. I wasn’t going to let being blind stop me doing anything, I was determined.
I was out of the hospital quite quickly because there wasn’t much they could do for me. I was starting to get used to waking up each morning and still not being able to see and I was starting to get more confident with moving around, but I was constantly bumping into things. It was really frustrating me, but I wasn’t going to let it show. I spent most of my time sitting by myself in my bedroom because I could think about things and I was rarely interrupted. To start with I’d get really scared every time I heard somebody walk into the room because I would never know who it was. I did tend to get scared of the strangest things, creaky stairs, the ticky boiler, slamming doors and even the kettle when it whistled. I was sad and paranoid, a nervous wreck. Not really the most desirable state to be in at the age of eight.
Then it was Christmas. A holiday full of happiness and joy, supposedly. Quite frankly, I couldn’t be bothered with it. Everyone was so happy and seemed to be laughing all the time. I felt left out, excluded from conversation. I just sat in my room alone. I could hear them all downstairs chatting and having fun. It felt like they had forgotten I even existed. My family were supportive to start with but now it was as if they’d gotten bored with me. I was lonely, I refused to go to school, I was worried about bullies, but I was beginning to get bored of the sound of my own thoughts.
I needed a friend, a companion, or just someone that would listen to me, properly listen. Then someone was knocking on the door, it was mum’s special knock.
“Come in,” I said in the direction of the door. I felt my mum sit down on the edge of the bed. She put her arm around me and whispered in my ear.
“Merry Christmas Alex,” I smiled. I did love my Mum; she was just hard to open up to. “Now she said,” jumping up off the bed, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” I asked excitedly.
“It’s a surprise you silly! Now come with me.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me up. We were moving through the house. When we stopped we were outside in the garden. I stood breathing heavily, I was excited.
“Where is it then?” I asked. Then something wet hit my hand. I jumped and pulled it back. What on Earth had that been? Then I heard a bark, it was definitely a bark, but it wasn’t one of the neighbour’s dogs.
“This is your dog Alex. He’s a guide dog. He’s specially trained to look after you. He’ll be a very good listener.”
I grinned uncontrollably; this is exactly what I had always wanted and now is exactly what I need. I bent down and felt his wet tongue on my face.
“He’s kissing you Alex, he loves you already!”I smiled. I got mum to describe him to me; I wanted to know exactly what he looked like. She was good at descriptions my Mum. She described the dog exactly, right from his shaking tail up to his pointed ears and wet nose. He was a golden Labrador, my dog. I’d only known him for a few minutes but I loved him already. I knew he would be the best dog ever.
“Now you need to name him,” mum said.
I thought about it. he was golden, a magical colour, and he was going to look after me, like an older brother.
“Midas,” I said, “like the king from the story!”
“That’s brilliant!” Mum said. I heard Midas bark.
“He likes it!” I said excitedly.
Mum started laughing and I joined her too. Laughing was something that I had not done for a long time. Now I was like the others again and I wasn’t being ignored. Midas had made a difference already.