It started innocently enough when I first lost my sight. I woke up blind one random morning. Doctors were baffled because there was nothing physically wrong with my eyes. You see, I was a successful lawyer, caught in a 9-5 cycle, with no time for unexplainable magic or curses. But now, the universe was forcing me to re-think my mundane life.
A few weeks after losing my sight, I woke up to find a small, ornate box by my bedside table. Inside was a pair of blue eyes, somewhat similar to mine. The note inside intrigued me. “Replace your eyes with these, regain your sight.” Crazy, isn’t it? With no other options left, I decided to try it.
What happened next felt like the workings of science fiction. I touched the eyes and they floated to attach themselves to my eye sockets. There was no pain, and suddenly, I could see again. Joy turned into horror, though, when I looked in the mirror. I was looking out through someone else’s eyes.
Every 24 hours, a new pair of eyes arrived. A spectrum of colours - Hazel, green, brown Eerie note attached. Out with the old, in was the new. If I didn’t change them on time, my world plunged into darkness until the new set melded with my sockets. No eyes lasted beyond 24 hours. Sight was now a fleeting visitor, not a constant companion.
As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I started noticing something else. Each pair of eyes came with flashes of memories that weren’t mine. Horrific, tragic, heartwarming, I witnessed them all. Lived them, felt them. Every eye - a connection to the soul they once belonged to, the life they once knew.
One morning, the box was empty. I desperately searched my room, but found no eyes, no note that usually accompanied it. Blinded again, I began to panic. Overwhelmed by an unexpected solitude, I shuddered in the darkness. By sunset, a new box arrived. This time, the note stated, ”Borrowed Time Expires”, and within lay a pair of horrifically familiar eyes. My original orbs.
Once they were in, I saw dreadful memories flashing before me - the accident, the hospital, my death. Reeling in terror, I sprinted for the mirror but did not see my reflection. Instead, it was a phantom-like figure with hollowed eye sockets, reaching out for my eyes.
Upon realizing what I had turned into, a chilling dread washed over me. A bystander in my own body, borrowing eyes to witness a world that was no longer mine.
Now, no boxes arrive, even though I await them in my eternal darkness. Dread replaces anticipation, as each unseen sun dips, leaving me in dread of seeing the phantom again. Every pair of eyes I used, every life I peered into, it’s a cruel reminder of what I am now.
An eternal wanderer, captive in the prison of lost time, forever searching for the next pair of eyes to borrow.