"Well...shit, this changes everything," my dad said while looking at my freshly punctured right eye.

Based on his rare cussing and the look of terror on his face I knew right then and there that my eye was ruined beyond any repair. For only being eight-years old, I was acting like a really good patient - but that was only because I had fallen into complete shock from the injury that caused my pupil to explode like an egg yolk just about five minutes earlier.

I had poked my eye out. I had done the one thing I had been repeatedly told not to do by my parents. Long before I ever injured my eye my folks were constantly hyper-focused on their protection. It was almost like long ago they were given a cryptic warning from a gypsy psychic about the fate of their second born child's v...

Please subscribe to keep reading.