Monthly Writing Prompt Challenge #3

This month’s writing prompt can be seen below:

Les3.jpg

And my writing as follows…

 

I had nearly always worn glasses.

When I was just three years old my mother and father had taken me to the eye doctor and insisted that I was having trouble seeing things. The tests, and indeed, the evidence, seemed to indicate otherwise, but the doctor had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to win and that it was better to just agree with my parents. My new glasses arrived a few weeks later.

Over the years I also came to enjoy wearing my glasses. They framed my large, round eyes and complimented my oval face. In fact, I was so used to wearing them that I sometimes didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror who stared back at me after I’d had a shower. I felt more comfortable behind my glasses and I liked to think they offered me some protection from those around me; in fact, I was almost able to convince myself that they rendered me invisible to evil forces.

Crazy as it sounds, that part was kind of true, but I wouldn’t find that out until I was much older and I wouldn’t, in my wildest dreams, have been able to expect/guess who it was that was evil.

The day that I found out began like any other. I was in a hurry to get to school because I had a biology exam and I’d rushed out the door without remembering to put my glasses back on after a shower. I guess I was so used to wearing them that I just assumed I was. To be honest I’d never really noticed any difference in my vision between wearing them and not wearing them and they were so much a part of my face, so to speak, that I thought I was already wearing them.

When I arrived at school I noticed a few people giving me strange looks and finally someone asked me where my glasses were.

“Oh crap, I didn’t even realise I wasn’t wearing them,” I said.

The exam was fine and obviously I didn’t have any trouble reading the questions because of course, I’d never really needed glasses in the first place. I finally discovered that fact when I arrived home.

My parents were waiting for me in the living room. I knew something was wrong because we never used the living room for anything. My parents also didn’t look quite like themselves.

In fact, they were monsters.

The need for me to always wear glasses suddenly all made sense.

 

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