trevor’s encyclopedia of lost and beautiful things

I open my eyes.

There’s no light on our gutted-out school bus.

Only darkness.

Complete darkness.

I can’t see!

I put my hand in front of my face, but I can’t see it.

I wiggle my fingers, but I can’t see them.

Have I gone blind?

I’m afraid.

I’m scared of the dark.

My abuelo taught me to do something very important when I’m afraid.

"Little salt,” he said, "if you wake up and it's dark, don't be scared. 

Open your eyes wide and think, 'I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dust' three times. 

When you finish thinking these words, everything will be okay. 

I promise."

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dust.

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dust.

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dust.

My abuelo was right, as he usually is.

Here is my hand.

Here are my wiggling fingers.

Here I am.

I can see.