I overheard murmurs from my friends across the room. They were in deep discussion, and having a very lively debate. One of my friends was bragging about how he touched his eye. Another chimed in, saying how he had also touched his eye. A third interrupted, explaining how touching his eye didn’t even hurt. These revelations shocked whoever heard them, including myself. As a 5 year old, my curiosity was at an all time high. Would it hurt if I touched my eye? Will I go blind if I touch my eye hard enough? Will I feel anything at all? Despite my intense curiosity, as a 5 year old I also had an incredibly short attention span. Thus, I refocused on my apple sauce in front of me and continued eating my lunch.

    It was later in the afternoon. I was still at my pre-school. We were taking a break to eat snacks, and I had to go to the bathroom. I went up to the toilet, completed my business, and went to wash my hands. At the faucet, I switched it on, let the warm water go down my hands. I reached for the soap, rubbed it in my hands, and rinsed it off. I grabbed the paper towels, dried off my hands, and then I looked in the mirror. I looked at my reflection, and studied it closely. At this point, I hadn’t thought of the concept of touching my eye for a while. However, as soon as I looked into my eyes, I thought of my friends discussion earlier. My curiosity had returned. Would it hurt if I touched my eye? Will I go blind if I touch my eye hard enough? Will I feel anything at all? I had no thoughts of the potential repercussions of the situation. I simply saw my eyes, and immediately went for it. I took my right hand and put it up to my left eye, pulling the bottom lid down, to expose more of my eye. I now had a larger target, and I had a clear shot. With full intention, my left hand quickly moved toward my eye. However, the closer it got to my eye, the slower my hand moved. My eye was like a magnetic field that repelled my hand. However, I persevered, and gutted through the instinct of not touching my eye, and it finally happened. My index finger on my left hand and my left eye made contact. Part of my finger touched the red part just under my eye, and part of my finger touched my actual eye. The touch was gentle, lasted less than a second, and then I quickly removed my finger. My questions were answered. The curiosity that was present before had now left. The verdict? It didn’t hurt. The eye itself felt a little less than firm. The surface was slightly wet, enough to add moisture to my dry finger. There weren’t any other special physical sensations, it was a fairly boring experience. I was mildly glad I had the courage to touch it, and I also felt satisfied with the answer I got. But my absurdly short attention span immediately dropped the topic from my mind, and I focused on the goldfish waiting for me outside the bathroom.