The sky was black from the storm, the streets slippery with every step you took. The few lights that brought small hope to this place were shut off for the night, leaving all of the defenseless creatures outside by themselves. One pet did not worry or care.
Dressed in a brown cloak, a small figure emerges from the darkness and stands by a broken street lamp. Leaning on it, the figure flicks her ear in anticipation for the arrival of some others. Strangely, the figure can not even tell if it's dark or not. To her, it's always dark. That's what blindness can do to you.
It all started on a cold, winter's evening. She had had sight, and was brewing a big pot of stew for her son. Joshwane was always playing outside in the cold, enjoying the snow that had dismissed him from classes. Then it happened. The snow, instead of being it's fluffy white, turned to sheer black. Tree knew immediatley what was happening, and she dropped her spoon. Grabbing the same cloak she was wearing on that now, she rushed outside. "Joshwane! Joshwane!" She screamed. A small Langerine rushed from behind the bushes. "Mama! Mama!" Relief flooded Tree as she ran to her son, before the first blast came. That sent tree back into the wall of her house with a thud. Opening her small, beady eyes she saw a witch that had grabbed Joshwane by his neck. "No!" She screamed, angry tears falling from her eyes. "Please, no!" Grabbing a branch from a nearby tree, she knocked the witch off of her broom, sheltering her son in her coat. "Joshwane, stand close to me." She whispered. As the witch stood, Tree delivered her second blow, and this time picked up her son to take him inside. Witches never went inside your house; instead they preferred to find easier victims. But then the second blast came. This one shot Tree with such force she slammed back into the house. Opening her eyes, she found with sorrow that she could no longer see. "Joshwane!" She screamed. A helpless "Mama" could be heard, but which direction? Turning around she ran in all different directions, but it was too late. Her son was gone.
Tree winced at the memory, tears coming to her blind eyes. Now, she was much more capable of tracking and hearing because of her small experience, but that didn't do anything. That didn't stop the hurt. Suddenly, she heard a noise not too far off. "Who goes there!" She yelled, turning to the direction and preparing for a fight.