• It’s the third time this week that I’ve been dreaming about the disfigured baby. It’s eyes seemed to pop out of its sockets, cheeks exposing flesh more than showing mere skin, its lips cleft, developing into a union with his nostrils. That beastly face haunts me day and night. Incessantly. It doesn’t care whether I am awake or asleep. Since I found his old photograph, tucked hidden on the last page of a dusty album, nightmare begins.

    I jumped out of bed, heading for my mirror. I gazed at every inch of my face, being grateful that I am born with a perfect face. My eyes are dark brown and deep. I got it from my father. My lips are thin, and my chin sharp. I cannot ask for more.

    I walked down the living room and saw my older brother, sinking himself in a book he’s reading. The book has no colors, pictures, or even normal letters we read. Yet, my brother’s fingers ran across the books with an expression so intent, I can tell that he’s reading his favorite science fiction book. My brother Jordan, is blind. He is four and a half years older than me, and now studying in a university close to my house. My parents told me that Jordan was blind ever since he was born. For one moment, I thought that the baby in the photograph was him. But I quickly erased that thought out of my mind. The baby couldn’t be Jordan. At least, it shouldn’t be him.

    I head to my parents in my quickest steps. I want to solve this horrifying mystery as quickly as possible. My father is sitting in his favorite table, sipping a cup of coffee, my mom reading next to him.

    My parents always remind me that I should be thankful for who I am. I never disobey them, though sometimes I wonder why are they always repeat the same message to me. I know that they are very passionate about physically-challenged people. I figured that maybe the baby in the photograph was one of the victims my mother helped? But why was it hidden?

    “Mom.. Dad. I want to show you something…”

    My mom closed her magazine, signaling to come closer to her. ‘What about, dear?’

    I sat on my mom’s lap. “Mom, I found this photograph. I found it in the pile of the dusty albums upstairs…”

    My mom looked upon me, expecting to hear more.

    “And it’s a photograph of this baby with a broken face. It was really frightening mom, it gave me nightmares for the last three days and I cant sleep.”

    My mom continues to gaze at me. This time with a slightly different look. I noticed tiny crystals forming at the end of my mother’s eyes.

    I felt really awful. I know I shouldn’tve looked the photograph in the first place. “Im sorry mom..”

    My mom hugged me “No its okay. Now I bet you are wondering who is that baby in the photograph right?”

    I nodded.

    My mom sighed. “Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought…”

    I waited. I don’t care how long my mom takes to say another word

    “It’s you”

    I was shocked. I wasn’t expecting that at all. My mind ran a million miles an hour, trying to gather memories of my past. My first friends. My first games.

    “Jamie, honey. This operation was done when you were 2 years old. You would hardly remember it.”

    I squeezed my eyes and try to bring back memories when I was two. I don’t remember anything. Except crying. Except letting go of my mother’s warm embrace, into a stranger’s hands. Then I feel that I am taken away from her. My mother cried farewell to me “Goodbye Jamie! Be nice! Don’t cry sweetheart, you’re okay!” But the strange thing is, I couldn’t see anything then.

    “You were blind, ever since you were born, Jamie.” My mother confessed. “ You were born with a disfigured face. Your father cried when he saw you for the first time. Fortunately, we can afford a doctor who can remove all the defects from you face, but they still couldn’t give you a sight. Your eyes were badly deformed, and they couldn’t help it.”

    I was confused. “So why could I see now? Whose eyes are these?”

    Before I could think of anything, Jordan appeared behind my back.

    “ I gave mine to you, sis… ”