Week 40 - Double Visions

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.