When Eliza was born something wasn’t right she didn’t quite look normal. She was born at home on 23rd of January 2030. My Dad is a doctor and he knew all along something was going to be wrong with this baby. That’s why they never wanted a doctor or a mid wife there. It was almost like they were ashamed or embarrassed. That’s when it struck me; they were too humiliated to own a baby with disability’s they didn’t want the hassle of having to walk down the street and everyone just staring and talking behind closed doors.
Later that evening I went to take a further glimpse at, what I thought was a gorgeous child. She looked up at me with two beautiful blue eyes and gurgled with happiness. How could anyone think such a thing of her? Maybe I was imagining the entire thing, maybe my parents just wanted to keep her to themselves whether she was disabled or not. So I went to bed that night utterly satisfied.
A few days later Eliza was diagnosed (by my Dad) with photosensitivity. I was crushed, perhaps being disabled wasn’t as shocking compared to this. So as well as not being able to walk Eliza wasn’t allowed to be in direct contact with light. Was she for her whole life going to be trapped in this house?
All day every day blinds were pulled down to their maxim letting in no daylight while baby Eliza just lay there gurgling and smiling, without knowing a trouble in the world.
My parents were forever irate. Snapping when I asked questions about when Eliza could go outside and see all the things normal babies saw. Its like they were hiding something and feeling guilty from it.
My life at school was almost unbearable; my thoughts were always at home with the child and how I could put right her right. So schoolwork went down hill from then and my parents began getting phone calls from my teacher. I got home one evening after the teacher had called and my parents were livid. From then on I worked harder.
When Eliza was four Mum tutored her at home. Now she could talk she was constantly asking why she could not go and play outside. But all Mum did was scold her for being so ridiculous and told her a story about what would happen to her if she went out. This went on for years and the more Eliza asked ‘can I go outside yet?’ the more my parents became distressed. Until one day I came home to a nearly empty house the only person there was Eliza.
She was lying on the floor out of her wheelchair clutching a single note it read:
Dear Eliza and Amalia
We have not been entirely truthful to you both. We knew it would be complicated managing a disabled child. We have always been well-respected people and therefore could not let word get out that we had produced an unusual child. As time wore on we knew not letting Eliza outside had been the wrong decision but there was nothing we could do about it. So we have made a fresh start. Aunty and Uncle will take care of you. Never come looking for us.
From Mum and Dad xxx
P.S We’re sorry it ever came to this.
Eliza was 13 when that happened to us and the next thing we did after the letter was go out into the cool summers day.
