My left eye was purple, as purple as grape jam pressed from the raw, thorny green vines.

It was Friday afternoon, the day my family and I would leave Atlantis. Roaring aquamarine waves, poisonous skull spiders, stretches of land--- these would be the things that I would miss the most. Departure time would be in an hour or so. The chaotic movement of air particles, tied to the turbulent high-speed flow of the hair blower snapped me out of my dream. I wiped my saliva off of the pearly pillow and dragged myself out of bed. I let out a relaxed, but also rushed yawn, staring sleepily with one eye open at the once glistening mirror, now dusty and smudged with fingerprints. In the mirror, I expected to see tousled hair, a split lip, and even heavy bags under my eyes. But I never expected to see a swollen, teary, purple eye that was puffed up like the roiling storm cloud that loomed beyond the window of my hotel room. 

“Blurred vision,” I kept repeating to myself. Why was I seeing things? I aggressively rubbed my eyes, causing the bruise to glow even more noticeably. Not only did my eyes itch, but there was now an itch left in my heart. I rubbed my eyes again. Tiny, scarlet scratches showed in the iris of my left eye like a temporary tattoo that reminded me of corneal abrasion. And my swollen purple eye appeared like an insignia of self abuse. Even better. Endless frustration was stuck in my brain like a bunch of cockroaches that would not be stepped on. Mentally… not physically. I observed my surroundings, trying to banish the negative thoughts from my mind. The lapis clay dolphin (with only one eye) gently perched on my ballpoint pen. I was fortunate enough to be able to purchase a souvenir after my tourist trap swim with dolphins. 

I sighed. I really do love dolphins. D-O-L-P-H-I-N-S. How quickly emotions can change, and what a hurried entrance misfortune can make. I never even thought that it would be humanly possible to be allergic to dolphins. How fortunate I was. 

“Angelina?” My sister glared at me almost like the way one would look at an alien. Oh, wait. I was one. Who could blame her? I was the whole cast of a 3-hour movie that switched between all genres: comedy, drama, action, mystery, and thriller. I suppose you could also prove a point between the romance of the lovely dolphin, whose name was Jack, and myself. Nevertheless, my sister just couldn’t wait for the green light to come with what she had in mind. She had to cross when the red light was still present. “Mom! Quick, come!”  

I wanted to laugh, hoot, and clap. Tears of joy even ran down my cheek like an arctic waterfall that sprang into action. My mom screeched into the room like a horde of bulls seeing the color red. Although in my case, it was purple. 

A gust of wind blew into my nostrils. Before I knew it, I saw the words “Atlantis Emergency Room” above my head. I took a seat as my parents hurriedly filled out forms by the front desk. It was no use to squint, or shut my eyes completely; even the darkness behind my eyelids couldn’t hide me from where I was. The harder I squinted, the more I could hear the sounds of the chaos around me. The moans from the sick soon-to-be patients waiting to be seen by tired physicians. A man across from me sat as still as a board while holding his arm at an angle across from his chest. A little boy wailed in pain, frequently touching his loose bandage on his head, revealing blood scrapes. The chair upon which I sat was hard, without any back support, and the rough fabric scratched my skin as I constantly fidgeted in my seat. I rested my clammy hands on my bouncing knee and looked up to see a nurse holding a paper sack the size of an airplane vomit bag. I worriedly trembled, hoping I wasn’t in any trouble. 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re in great hands.” The nurse smiled brightly as sunshine radiated off her. She handed me a bag of customized Atlantis animal crackers as the shadows from the room disappeared and light was delivered. Yum. Dolphin crackers.