Double Visions
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Not sure
what I’m seeing. What is it? My eyes are all fucked up right now. I hate to
think I’m going to have to get glasses... I’m not that old yet, am I? It’s a
blur. Things are blurry when in the morning or when I stare at the screen too
long. Maybe I’m not sleeping enough. Maybe I’m old. I feel like I’m old. Fuck. – from the private journal of Eddie Frost.
Edward had a problem. He thought it was his eyesight. In a way it
was, but not in the way he was thinking. He could only imagine this was what it
was like when people’s vision started to go. Blurred and fuzzy images. One
minute in focus, another out. But he wasn’t thinking clearly, just as he wasn’t
seeing clearly.
Even if he had been thinking clearly, he never would have guessed
what was actually going on.
There are images of blurred things. Objects. They
overlap. Not quite seeing double, but I’m seeing two of something. It’s
strange. Like something’s there that isn’t. Something extra. Something and then
it’s gone. Spots in the corner of my eye, just out of sight. Something strange.
Shapes that can’t possibly be there. If I reach out, they don’t last. If I
focus, they don’t last. They’re there, I know they are. But if I look too hard or too long, they
always disappear.
I keep
thinking that if I turn quickly enough I’ll actually see what it was.
I’d like
to think it’s my peripheral vision playing tricks on me.
But what
if it’s not? That has me a little worried. I’m talking myself into diseases I
know I don’t have. But what if I do?
What Edward didn’t know was that he had been given a gift.
Something new and unique. He didn’t see it that way. He had no way to conceive of
it. He had been granted something special, something from the darkness,
something that bound him to a far greater power…
Doctor
says it’s not glasses. Doctor says it’s not a brain tumor. Thank God for that.
I was actually scared. I had talked myself into believing such bullshit. Thank
God that’s not the case. But still, they don’t know what is. That’s not good.
I’m
getting myself worked up over nothing. I need more sleep. The lack of sleep
makes me nod off and then I’m seeing something I’m really not. I don’t know if
I believe that or not. If I’m nodding off all the time, then how do I need more
sleep?
I can
almost see them. I can almost make it out. I know if I just try hard enough,
something will make sense. I know it’s there. I just have to be able to see.
The spirits, the dark and mysterious ones that are always swirling
about, watching and interfering with people’s lives, had imbued within him a
special gift. No one asked Edward. No one gave him a choice. That wasn’t how it
worked.
I swear to
God I’m not insane, but I swear something was there and it looked back at me.
The sight, the gift, the visions. A blending of the senses that
allowed a glimpse into the other worlds. Not every pair of eyes could see
clearly. Not every mind could handle what it saw. Unfortunately for Edward, his
was one of those minds that couldn’t quite handle all that it was given.
Edward was not a happy
camper.
My eyes!
My eyes! Make it stop. Help me. Somebody help me. Please. What the fuck.
The spirits were coming through and Edward wasn’t equipped to
handle it or to know what to do. It felt like madness. That would have made sense
if it had been. Not that the mad really know they are experiencing madness. But
madness would have explained it all. The visions, the half-objects, the mists,
the fog of knowledge, all the things that seemed clear and unclear and
incomprehensible at the same time.
There was no one to confirm or provide any sort of assistance. Not
the doctors, not the medicine. Not the spirits. They didn’t provide guidance of
any sort.
Daily. It’s
daily now. Almost all the time. It’s too much. Everywhere. All over the place.
Everything I look at, I see what’s there, what I’m supposed to and then there’s
the other things. The other things that are there, but aren’t really there. No
one else sees. No one else knows.
It’s too
much. Nothing helps. Nothing stops it. I don’t want this. I don’t want to see.
Whatever this is, I need it to stop. I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m not.
I feel weak. I feel beaten down all the time. I’m tired all the time. I can’t
sleep or I see things. I can’t concentrate all day. I look anywhere and it’s
insane.
They tell
me to sleep. To rest. How can I do that when it’s all the time? Nothing stops
it. I need a break. I need it to stop. I don’t know what else to do. I know it’s
not supposed to be like this. If this continues… if this continues, I don’t
know how much more I can take.
I’m just
so tired all the time.
It had to end. Edward couldn’t handle it anymore. He needed it to
end. He needed a way out. He assumed that the visions were linked to his ocular
system as opposed to something directly interacting within his brain. He assumed that without his eyes, the visions
would stop.
In a way he didn’t care. He knew he wasn’t in control anymore. He
knew he didn’t know and wouldn’t know what it really was. But he needed it to
stop so badly. He just needed it over, no matter what happened next. He couldn’t
live with things the way they were.
Secret worlds and secret places and the shadows of the other
things that are hidden in there. They watched. The eyes saw. They observed and
studied. Edward couldn’t tell. He couldn’t see. A million and one other
realities folded and layered and blurred tightly together. It was impossible to
see them all. Impossible to comprehend.
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t stand to see. He couldn’t take it
anymore. The eyes would have to go, blinding himself just to be rid of the
visions.
And once those were gone, anything and everything else might have
to go too. Only then could it all stop.
The spirits swirled and watched and waited, and eventually they
would move on.
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