Blind

I posted it on the MFGH site, in the GARf section, so, by rights, the MySpace blog gets the commentary. Unfortunatly, there isn't much of one. I got the idea for it on a bus ride after reading a story called "Eye for Eye", by Orson Scott Car

I was born with a gift. Well, kinda...

See, I was born blind. Which isn't really a gift, but I'm special. I don't see colors like normal people do, light relecting off of an object. I see light radiating out of objects. It's hard to explain... have you ever been around someone and gotten a vibe off of them? Or walked past a place and walked just that much faster to get as far away from the place as you can? I see that with people. I can sense their emotions from the colors they radiate.

Again, not really a gift, at least in the usual sense of the word. I mean, most people can sense emotions, in their dim, non-visual way, so it's really just a heightening of a sense most people are born with.

But then I discovered something... not only can I not "see" people, but they can't see me. At least, as far as I can tell. Some people, when they get close to others, change their emotions. They go from happy to sad or the other way around, and I can see that. It may not be a conscious thing, they may just react to the person. But they never react to me.

Even so, I still haven't gotten to my gift. All in due time, all in due time...

As I was saying, people don't react to me like they do other people. Once, in frustration, I reached out for one of the darker radiators of light. Once I reached the center of the mass, I was flooded with perception. I could see the person's memories. I saw great pain in their life. I saw, through their eyes, abuse. I saw screaming, attacks with words and weapons. I saw cuts form and turn into scars.

I found, after time, that I could take their memories from them. Take their hate, their anger, their frustration, all of it, into myself. And, for a time, they would be happy. I could see their colors change, could see them become happier. And, through them, I found my own happiness, to an extent.

I don't know if I was drawn to them, or if they were drawn to me. The broken, the beaten, the nameless, I found them. And I helped them. My own color began to change. Of course, the colors vary on the mood of the person, but mine never stayed the same color. It was a spherical rainbow, changing color and shape at will, looking almost like a beating heart.

I lived like that for many years, taking people's pain. And then I found one like myself, with no single color. We approached each other tentatively, and I could tell, she could see me. We reached for each other at the same time.

I could tell from the start that it was different. I didn't see her past. I saw her life in reverse. I saw her as an old lady, sitting on a porch with a man, her husband, rocking gently back and forth holding each other's hands. I watched her raise her children, watched her wedding and the courtship. Slowly, we neared the present. I saw, in reverse, her reaching for me. And that's when it occured to me. I was the man in her visions.

I realized what I was seeing, and opened my eyes, and saw for the first time. I was no longer the healer, but the healed. Nothing I have seen since has been as beautiful as the woman who was looking back at me in that moment.