The Final Hour

The final hour of the year is also the quietest.

Outside, the cold darkness of the night consumes all sound. Everyone is huddled indoors by now, gathered in the brightest corners of their homes and surrounded by light, sound, color. Unfortunately, I can’t see them from here.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. The lights are off, but the machines that remain active emanate a greenish glow and a soft yet constant beep, beep that matches my pulse and is the source of my insomnia. At least, that’s what I tell myself: best to blame the machinery than acknowledge the pain that wrests away my slumber on every attempt.

My mind floats back to those bright living rooms, somewhere far away. I imagine Michael Bublé in the background, elegant and joyful, as a family sits on the couch and squabbles over control of the TV remote. Nearby are tiny children with far too much sugar in their systems hopping around like bunnies, waiting for the moment the countdown begins and they can squeal alongside everyone else without reprimand.

I’m too tired to get up and check the time, but it should be any minute now…

I wait in the darkness, straining my ears for even the slightest hint of excitement. There is no countdown here, but I am just as wound up as anyone else, if not more. I have, after all, something to prove. A new year means a new record: it means breaking down that invisible barrier doctors were convinced I wouldn’t see past. It means achieving the impossible, for once in my life.

I hear a whistle and then a pop, loud enough to prompt me to sit up on my elbows and look out the window. As expected, I find a hint of light shooting out from behind a building into the night sky. With it, the final hour’s silent spell breaks, and I start to hear it all:

More fireworks, echoing the first. Clapping and cheers down the hallway. Car engines roaring as people pour out onto the streets, ready for their first journey of the year.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow and smile. The new year is here. I made it after all. Mission accomplished.

I can relax now. Still smiling, I close my eyes and finally let myself fall deep into my well-earned rest.