World

My name is Ada, and I have never seen the world. I was born blind. But even without eyes, I see pain… I hear lies… and I feel everything people try to hide. The night thunder cracked open the sky, I knew something was coming for me. Something dark. Something that whispered my name through the storm. That old house at the end of the dusty road was my home—or at least, that’s what they called it. But it never felt like home. Not since Mama died. And when Papa followed her three years ago, I became nothing more than a burden in my own father’s house. I live with my stepmother, Madam Ijeoma, and her daughter, Nene. They treat me like a curse. Every word from them cuts me like a knife I can’t see. That night, the rain tapped the roof like tiny fingers. I sat close to the weak fire, feeling its warmth fade away. Then came her voice—sharp as a blade. “Did you wash my clothes?” “Yes, ma,” I answered. “And my daughter’s shoes?” “Yes, ma.” “Then go to the store room. I don’t want to see you when my guests arrive.” I stayed still for a second. Then—SLAP! “Are you deaf too? Move before I break that useless head of yours!” I bit my lip to stop the tears. I picked up my small mat and felt my way toward the store room. The air smelled of soap and ashes. I closed the door quietly, leaned my back against it, and took a long breath. And then I heard it— A whisper. Soft. Strange. Calling my name. “Ada…” I froze. My heart began to race. “Who’s there?” I asked. No reply. Only the wind. I lay on my mat, but the voice came again, clearer this time— “Ada… you must leave this house.” My eyes—those empty eyes—filled with tears. “Who are you?” I whispered. But the only answer was the sound of rain beating harder. ☁️ Morning came with a cold wind. Before the sun rose, Madam Ijeoma was already shouting. “Wake up, lazy girl! Go fetch water!” I grabbed my bucket and walked out, counting my steps the way Papa taught me— Thirty-two to the gate. Forty-five to the big mango tree. Then down the slope to the stream. At the stream, I could feel other girls watching me. They giggled. “Look at Ada, the blind one. Still forming fine girl,” one said. I smiled. “Even without eyes, I see more than you think.” They went quiet. As I bent to fetch water, a hand brushed mine. I gasped. “Sorry,” said a gentle voice. It was Obinna, the carpenter’s apprentice. He was one of the few people who spoke kindly to me. “It’s all right,” I said softly. He hesitated before speaking again. “Your stepmother sent me yesterday to fix your father’s old cupboard,” he said. “But when I came, she said there’s no need… that you won’t be living here anymore.” I froze. “What do you mean?” Obinna looked around and whispered, “I heard her talking to someone last night. She said a woman from the city will come for you. Be careful, Ada.” The bucket slipped from my hand. “A woman from the city?” He nodded. “I don’t know what it means, but her tone… it scared me.” Thunder rumbled again. I hurried home, my heart beating fast. When I got there, I heard voices inside—new voices. Laughter. And Madam Ijeoma’s fake sweet tone. “My husband’s blind daughter,” she said proudly. “She’s no use. Can’t see, can’t cook. You understand.” Note _ this story belongs to jennylight any other page aside from hers stole it. I stood by the door, silent. “Ma?” I whispered. Her tone changed instantly. “What are you doing here? Go and wash those plates!” But one of the women inside spoke softly. Her voice was calm, cold, dangerous. “She’s blind, you say? How old?” “Sixteen,” Madam replied. “And no family?” “None.” “Perfect,” the woman said. The room fell silent. Even without sight, I could feel that woman’s eyes on me. That night, I didn’t sleep. I sat on my mat, holding the small wooden cross Papa gave me before he died. “Papa,” I whispered, “I don’t know what they’re planning, but please, protect me.” The rain started again. And through it, I heard the whisper once more— “Ada…” I turned my head quickly. “Who are you?” The voice answered softly, “The one who sees for you. The blind maiden must walk where others fear to go.” My heart pounded. “Blind maiden? What does that mean?” Silence. Then footsteps… right outside my door. I lay back quickly, pretending to sleep. The door creaked open. “She’s asleep,” Madam whispered. “Tomorrow the woman from the city will come. She said she’ll pay well.” Nene giggled. “What if she runs away?” Madam laughed. “She can’t even see the door.” Their footsteps faded away. I stayed still, tears rolling down my face. But deep inside, something changed. I was no longer just scared. I was angry… and ready. Before dawn, I stood up. I tied my father’s cross around my neck and picked up my walking stick. The wind brushed my face as I stepped outside. The voice whispered again, close to my ear— “This way, Ada…” I didn’t know where it was leading me. I didn’t even know if I would survive the night. But I followed. Barefoot. Blind. Brave. Episode 1 Blind Maiden