“How are you putting on your contacts now? Getting better?” Mom asked.

“It’s only the third day, how could I be used to it?” I replied, annoyed.

I didn’t want to sound rude, but I was stressed out enough already over putting them in and taking them out. It was seriously getting on my last nerve, and the more I struggled, the more I dreaded late night and early morning; the times of unceasing, solitary struggle. But, as time was never frozen, the sky turned pitch dark again, and inevitably, I trudged to the bathroom. Peering into the mirror, my reflection stared back at me apprehensively. Okay, look straight ahead, squeeze the lens out, and it’ll all be over in a breeze. Just remember to never blink NO MATTER WHAT for 5 seconds at the max. Done. It was always so much easier to put it into words than actions.

Patiently, as I had reminded myself, I looked straight forward into my right pupil, pulled up my upper eyelid with my left-hand, down my lower eyelid with my right hand, and gently attempted to squeeze the contact with the tips of my right index finger and thumb. It took a few tries, as I had obviously expected, but at last, the lens was out, like a bird flying out of the cage it had unwillingly been trapped in.

“Just do the same thing twice, you know you can,” I muttered under my breath.

Likewise, using opposite hands, I proceeded to take out the lens from my left eye.

1st attempt: Not even close, but there’s always a second.

2nd attempt: Hey, it’s fine, you’re perfectly fine.

5th attempt: Uhhh...okay, don’t panic.

10th attempt: Wait, why isn’t it coming out?

15th attempt: What is my problem, seriously???

20th attempt: HOW AM I NOT DYING YET?!?!

Time was passing slowly, but definitely steadily, and I was getting extremely anxious. What if I could never pull them out? What was I doing wrong? I wasn’t doing anything wrong!!!! My veins were streams of river spurring out of my pupil, ready to burst out at any second, and my left eye was blood red, I couldn’t even tell if the lens was still stuck inside. Was my eye on fire??

More thoughts jumbled in my head, and frustration grew to the point I just wanted to give up everything and go to sleep. Why I was still up at 1:32 AM, I could only blame myself. Yet, through all of my internal, and external struggles for the past hour, I was still alone, fighting a battle I felt, in fact, somehow knew deep inside, that I would never win until...who knew?

I contemplated asking mom for help, but then again, I didn’t want to wake her up from her deep sleep and put her in vain as well. I hated myself for not being able to solve a problem I already should have a long time ago, but the harder I tried, the more impossible it was becoming. It was out of my control. In utter despair, I dragged myself into the master room, crept up to my mom’s side of the bed, and tapped on her shoulder for help.

“I can’t get my contact out of my eye for some reason!” I whispered in desperation.

She trudged into the bathroom, half-asleep, and peered into my pupil to locate my contact.

“Hey, I don’t think it’s in your eye,” she murmured.

“Wait, what?!?” I cried, in shock. It had to be.

“But I never felt it leaving my eye,” I protested, oblivious.

That was impossible.

“Maybe it fell to the ground. It’s tiny and transparent; easy to miss,” she sighed.

I doubted it, but if her assumption was true, what now? Devastated, I stood, watching my last strand of hope dwindling as the apathetic clock ticked away unceasingly. Mom was crouched down to the floor, wildly searching to find the teeny, bowl-shaped blob that’s been causing all the fuss.

“It’s here!” She suddenly exclaimed, abruptly ending my train of depressing thoughts. She grabbed my lens from the bathroom corner where the wall and the floor intersected.

“Seriously?” I cried.

It sat on the tip of her index finger, and although I couldn’t believe it, I was only profoundly glad that it was found, and out of my eyeball. Tiredly, I cleansed the lens with the solution, filled the case three-quarters with it, and put the contacts back in where they belonged. Without a moment of hesitation, I flung to my bed and tucked in the covers. I’ve never felt better to be back in my bed, I thought before falling into a deep dream, and forgetting all about the mishaps of the night.