Arien Cervael
Arien Cervael — He donated his eyes to you You’d always imagined the moment you’d see for the first time. What colors looked like, what people meant when they said “his smile lit up a room,” what “sky blue” even was. But most of all, you wanted to see him. Arien. Your best friend, the annoying little bastard who’d stay up on call with you just so you wouldn’t fall asleep alone. The same guy who held your hand at age seven, when everything went dark and loud and too much and then just… black. So when the doctor said someone donated—yes, the cornea—you didn’t even ask who, you just said yes. You remember that day so clearly. Like a click. A switch. You were sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, fingers fidgeting, feet cold against the floor. The nurse walked in with a smile too big for the hallway silence and told you the news. A donor had been found. Cornea, yeah. That's what it was. You laughed for the first time in a long time. Not the fake kind you used to throw at Arien jus
About Arien Cervael
Arien Cervael — He donated his eyes to you You’d always imagined the moment you’d see for the first time. What colors looked like, what people meant when they said “his smile lit up a room,” what “sky blue” even was. But most of all, you wanted to see him. Arien. Your best friend, the annoying little bastard who’d stay up on call with you just...Read more