okay sooner or later, no matter how hard and unfixable they seemed to be.
His songs gave me hope. His voice gave me warmth. His melodies brightened my dark days.
Besides the cheers, I could hear the snaps of photos that came from cellphones, fan-girls screaming and squealing. They were the only things that tainted the joy of hearing Ethan Thompson's singing, but it was a small tax I was willing to pay for listening to his powerful voice as it sang words that went straight to my heart once they passed by my ears.
About two hours and one break later, the boy who could sing like no other asked if any of the fans wanted to come up on the stage. The screams that came in reply to his question were almost deafening. It was crazy, so crazy I had to cover my ears.
I heard Ethan's chuckle, which was music on its own. He then said that he picked the girl with the white shirt, and I heard the crowd laughing, Sandra told me that almost everyone was wearing the same white shirt we were wearing, the band's t-shirt – ours had 'I Love the Thompson Boys' on the front, though. I smiled at that, at the boy I’d found to be such a goofball since I’d come to this concert. He'd kept us entertained throughout the whole thing, not just by his wonderful voice and playing, but also with his playful nature.
"Oh. Em. Gee!" Sandra squealed loudly after a few moments. "Anna, he's pointing at you!"
Uh, what?
It took me a moment to take what she’d just said in. Ethan had chosen me to get up on the stage? "No freaking way!" I said. This time the doubt started filling my head with how Sandra must be hallucinating or on something. It was not possible that Ethan Thompson was glancing my way, let alone picking me to get on the freaking stage!
"Oh, my gosh! You need to get up there!" my sister screamed, and just then I realized that I still hadn't replied to her.
"It can't be, Sandra, he must be pointing at someone else, someone behind me or something."
"Anna, there is no time for this, he means you , you have to get up, right the fuck now!"
Ethan called again, and when he said the strawberry-blonde girl, I knew that Sandra wasn't really mistaken when she said he meant me. Surely there were more girls around with the same hair color, but what were the odds of another strawberry-blonde standing behind me, right?
"You go," I said. She was in a white shirt, a strawberry-blonde and she wasn't … uh, she wasn't like me. She was a better choice.
"What? No way! He wants you ," she said in a hurry. "C'mon, Anna, the lights are on you!"
Oh, shit!
"Sandra, I'm not going to get up there, trip and make a fool out of myself in front of two million people!"
"Anyone could trip and fall, c'mon, it happens once in a lifetime, you have to get up there!" she said for the hundredth time.
"Not everyone is blind, Sandra!" I all but screamed. "Just go!"
There was silence from Sandra's side after that, and I knew that she wanted to do what I was suggesting, but she wasn't sure if she should leave me alone and didn’t want to ask the question that I hated the most. I answered the unspoken question, "I'll be okay, I promise, go!" fighting with everything in me against the tears that threatened to fall out of my useless eyes when her hand left mine and I couldn't feel her close presence anymore.
It was just another thing my disability took away from me, no big deal.
I wasn't born blind. I was fine, my sight was 20/20 until the age of eleven, but then it started to go downhill as the days passed until it was impossible to see without thick and ugly glasses. I was considered legally blind for a short time before we discovered that I was losing my sight quickly due to a tumor in my brain, one that made me completely blind in no time.
The doctors said that I would get my sight back after they removed the tumor that was pressing on the vision area, but even after that, I couldn't see anything, I was still blind, even after chemo and after all of the time they said it
His songs gave me hope. His voice gave me warmth. His melodies brightened my dark days.
Besides the cheers, I could hear the snaps of photos that came from cellphones, fan-girls screaming and squealing. They were the only things that tainted the joy of hearing Ethan Thompson's singing, but it was a small tax I was willing to pay for listening to his powerful voice as it sang words that went straight to my heart once they passed by my ears.
About two hours and one break later, the boy who could sing like no other asked if any of the fans wanted to come up on the stage. The screams that came in reply to his question were almost deafening. It was crazy, so crazy I had to cover my ears.
I heard Ethan's chuckle, which was music on its own. He then said that he picked the girl with the white shirt, and I heard the crowd laughing, Sandra told me that almost everyone was wearing the same white shirt we were wearing, the band's t-shirt – ours had 'I Love the Thompson Boys' on the front, though. I smiled at that, at the boy I’d found to be such a goofball since I’d come to this concert. He'd kept us entertained throughout the whole thing, not just by his wonderful voice and playing, but also with his playful nature.
"Oh. Em. Gee!" Sandra squealed loudly after a few moments. "Anna, he's pointing at you!"
Uh, what?
It took me a moment to take what she’d just said in. Ethan had chosen me to get up on the stage? "No freaking way!" I said. This time the doubt started filling my head with how Sandra must be hallucinating or on something. It was not possible that Ethan Thompson was glancing my way, let alone picking me to get on the freaking stage!
"Oh, my gosh! You need to get up there!" my sister screamed, and just then I realized that I still hadn't replied to her.
"It can't be, Sandra, he must be pointing at someone else, someone behind me or something."
"Anna, there is no time for this, he means you , you have to get up, right the fuck now!"
Ethan called again, and when he said the strawberry-blonde girl, I knew that Sandra wasn't really mistaken when she said he meant me. Surely there were more girls around with the same hair color, but what were the odds of another strawberry-blonde standing behind me, right?
"You go," I said. She was in a white shirt, a strawberry-blonde and she wasn't … uh, she wasn't like me. She was a better choice.
"What? No way! He wants you ," she said in a hurry. "C'mon, Anna, the lights are on you!"
Oh, shit!
"Sandra, I'm not going to get up there, trip and make a fool out of myself in front of two million people!"
"Anyone could trip and fall, c'mon, it happens once in a lifetime, you have to get up there!" she said for the hundredth time.
"Not everyone is blind, Sandra!" I all but screamed. "Just go!"
There was silence from Sandra's side after that, and I knew that she wanted to do what I was suggesting, but she wasn't sure if she should leave me alone and didn’t want to ask the question that I hated the most. I answered the unspoken question, "I'll be okay, I promise, go!" fighting with everything in me against the tears that threatened to fall out of my useless eyes when her hand left mine and I couldn't feel her close presence anymore.
It was just another thing my disability took away from me, no big deal.
I wasn't born blind. I was fine, my sight was 20/20 until the age of eleven, but then it started to go downhill as the days passed until it was impossible to see without thick and ugly glasses. I was considered legally blind for a short time before we discovered that I was losing my sight quickly due to a tumor in my brain, one that made me completely blind in no time.
The doctors said that I would get my sight back after they removed the tumor that was pressing on the vision area, but even after that, I couldn't see anything, I was still blind, even after chemo and after all of the time they said it
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