Too blind to see, too foolish to understand

•When Light Hurts the Eyes•

— Brave, yet so weak. Pathetic. — One of the guys sneered, crouching down to be at the same level as the girl. — The only thing giving away your fear is those ugly eyes staring at me in horror. The cold March rain mercilessly lashed the empty street. The girl could feel the icy droplets piercing her skin, mingling with sweat. The asphalt beneath her was damp and slippery. He ran his finger down her cheek, and she flinched but didn’t pull away. Li Qiao knew — any sudden move would be an excuse. They just needed her to make a mistake. — Why so quiet? Scared, princess? — Another guy shouted from a bit further away. How many were there? She had stopped trying to count. — Can we start now? — A third voice drawled, tinged with a lazy smirk. The girl was ready to give up and cry at that very moment. The only thing holding her back was the realization that the attacker would immediately feel power and victory upon seeing her tears. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. If she showed even a sliver of weakness — she’d lose. — Well, if she’s not talking or resisting… And in that moment, her body seemed to respond on its own — from somewhere deep within, from the very depths of terror, a blazing “NO” flared up. She suddenly lunged forward and struck the nearest guy with all her strength. Was it her fist or elbow? Impossible to tell. A crunch. His face twisted to the side, followed by a sharp cry. He fell sideways, clutching his nose as blood poured out. — Nasty bastard!! Everything blurred after that. Someone grabbed her hair and slammed a fist directly into her eye, as if trying to drive it inward. Li Qiao staggered back, her vision flaring with red. Her left eye felt like it was drowning in hot liquid — she couldn’t see anything but a swirling haze of light and pulsing darkness. Her other eye was no better, everything fractured like shattered glass. She collapsed. Pain erupted in her skull, her eyes, her chest. Blows rained down — on her face, her head, her stomach. Tears streamed uncontrollably, but Li Qiao didn’t scream. She lost track of time. Everything merged into a dark whirl. The last thing she remembered was a pair of feet stepping on her hand and a red light spreading before her eyes. Then — silence.

***

— Hey, sweetheart, can you hear me? — A gentle but worried voice came from right above her. Li Qiao’s eyes fluttered open, but she couldn’t make out the figure standing before her. It hurt to keep them open, so she quickly shut them again, but the pain refused to leave. — Don’t move. I’ve already called an ambulance. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me? — The girl leaned closer, her warm hands carefully wrapping around Li Qiao’s waist, trying to lift her off the wet asphalt. Her touch was warm, her movements gentle. But to Li Qiao, it was terrifying — a sharp reminder of what had just happened, like the worst nightmare. Fear, which had just begun to fade, suddenly surged back with new force. Li Qiao jerked away, weakly pushing the girl. Her fingers trembled, just like the rest of her, and fresh tears traced salty paths down her cheeks, exposing a different, deeper fear. — Don’t… please… don’t touch me… — Her voice was barely audible, hoarse, almost foreign. — Alright. Alright, I won’t touch you. I’m sorry. — The girl’s voice remained soft but now carried a hint of guilt. — Just stay there. I’m right here. Tears kept spilling over her battered cheeks. Every breath sent sharp pain stabbing through her ribs. Her left eye throbbed, as if something inside would burst any moment, while the streetlights and pouring rain only worsened the stinging and blurriness in her vision. This was more than just bruises. Something inside her had broken. In her eyes, in the frantic beat of her heart, in the way her fingers clutched at the fabric — as if even the air around her was dangerous.

***

The glare of blue lights cut into her eyes: the ambulance had arrived. — They’re here. Hey! — The girl’s voice grew louder, almost commanding, but not harsh. The door swung open with a metallic clang, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing. The ambulance lights washed over Li Qiao, and in their cold glow, it became clear — her white blouse was stained with blood, her own and perhaps someone else’s. — My… eyes… — She rasped. — It… hurts. — We’re here. Easy, don’t speak. — A man’s voice, quick but trying to remain calm. One of the paramedics leaned over her. — Eye trauma, possible hyphema. Severe photophobia. Major swelling, hemorrhage… Damn, we need to get her to the ER fast! Call for an ophthalmologist. And a psychiatrist, just in case. — One of them muttered while wrapping Li Qiao in a blanket and securing her on the stretcher. — What about those three? — Another unfamiliar voice asked, louder. — Two unconscious, the third barely moving. All have severe injuries to the chest and lower abdomen. — That’s not all. Half of them ran off. — The girl intervened. Just a few meters away, by the curb in the cold puddle under the relentless rain, lay three of the guys — the same ones. — You… — She whispered, not expecting an answer. — I’m here. — Did you… stop them? — I wouldn’t let them… do this. — Her voice was just as calm. — Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you again. Li Qiao tried to say something, but the world blurred again. Sounds, light, fragments of other voices — all faded. She was so tired. The last thing she heard before darkness claimed her was a soft, almost whispering voice: — Rest, sweetheart. I hope you’ll be okay.