My eyes are grey, my eyes can't see
Though, I am far from blind.
My mum tells me that I'm a seer.
Though, I know I'm just another mutant.
I come from a long line of seers – women on my mother's side who's eyes did more than see what was placed in front of them. Some had minor abilities; some had power beyond your imagination. Those are rarer, though. We aren't an all-powerful family.
I wouldn't count myself as being even remotely powerful. Even my mum, who catches brief glimpses of what she'll be doing in ten minutes when she's stressed or tired can do more than what I can.
Mostly because I can't switch my mutation on and off.
I guess, well, I take the term 'seer', to a literal level.
Music poured through my ears and into my head, filling my mind with images that I knew only could exist in my mind. An array of colours that I had seen only through my mutation – colours I could never recreate or put a name to.
The soft violin guided me through these colours and images, bringing me the sort of contentment that I only felt when I'd sit in my glade.
Though, there was this odd thumping sound that I didn't recognize.
I felt around my bed – my eyes still closed – and found my mp3 player. I opened my eyes, already prepared for what I was about to see.
Looking through my eyes;
Would you like to see?
First, you need to understand that there is more to what we see. Something that logical minds often fail to grasp – but there is. I don't mean in a spiritual sense, I'm not one-hundred percent sure on that; I mean more in a multiverse sort of way.
I see what the philosopher tries to prove.
If you stand in front of me, I can't see you, but I will see your alternate of whichever realities are overlapping the space your body is currently occupying. It can range from one or two, to hundreds, depending on where you're standing and my concentration levels.
Now, let's add speech.
You may be saying one thing to me in one particular way, but your alternates may be trying to say it another. Fortunately, I can only hear the words you speak in the reality I physically occupy, but it does make watching and listening a difficult task.
It's not a curse. I am proud to be carrying on tradition.
It's taught me patience, and it's let me see beauty that goes beyond this world.
It's just easier to live with my eyes closed.
x
I squinted at my mp3 player, moving it to the spot above my bed where I know I can read what's written on the screen for what it is. Finding realities closest to this are the hardest to come by.
No, it was working fine – it wasn't frozen or anything.
'Oh,' I grinned stupidly, 'I'm coming mum!'
When my mutation had manifested, about two years ago, my parents were more than pleased, especially my mum. They immediately understood my sight dilemma, and took me house-hunting as fast as they could. They wanted me to help them help me.
I managed to come across a fairly decent home where I could walk around with my eyes open without confusing myself too much.
They bought it, even if we had to sell half of our furniture to put towards a down-payment.
Though, it wasn't perfect. Take my door, for example.
I reached for the doorknob, focusing on what I thought was an accurate view of the my actual bedroom door, and ended up grasping at nothing.
I tried again, but nothing.
With a huff, I closed my eyes and felt around the door, finding the cool metal handle and pulling it down.
Mum had disappeared down the hall, but she still called out to me.
'What time is it?' I called back, as I turned and glanced at myself in the hallway mirror, praying that this outfit made some sense.
'Eight fifteen,' she replied as I wandered into the kitchen, staring at the walls. I was pretty sure they were white yesterday… now they seemed pale yellow.
'Have you eaten?' she asked from behind the refrigerator door.
'Yep, uh… is what I'm wearing okay?' I coughed, trying not to sound sheepish.
My mum closed the door holding a tub of butter.
Or jam.
Or a couple of eggs.
She smiled – a general, all round smile – like she was proud of something.
'It's fine! Oh Sophie… soon you won't need me!'
Mum looks nearly the same everywhere. She may be a little bigger or a little smaller, with different hair lengths and colours; but there was something about her face that always remained the same.
'Well, I suppose that if you run, you'll be able to make your bus. Which, if I can predict anything, should be there in about two minutes.'
'Mum, seriously. You're talking about public transportation. They operate in their own time-plane,' I laughed, dragging my backpack off the counter and hauling it over my shoulder.
'How long have you been holding onto that one?' she said, grinning.
'Shush!' I tried not too guilty.
x
I go to an actual school.
It's private, but it's a school nonetheless.
Sure, I was notified about relocating to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters – by letter. I appreciated the gesture, but I felt that if I stayed there, another kid in a direr situation would miss out. I wasn't struggling and I wasn't running away.
The school I attend is the only one in the area that accommodates for students with special needs. I have been, after all, declared completely blind by all of my optometrists.
There aren't many of us in the class, but I know I'm not the worst of them.
Though, I'm pretty sure Matthew's a mutant too.
But I won't say anything.
The bus pulls up five minutes after I arrive, and I climb on board with my eyes closed, using my cane to guide me. There's a gentle tugging on my arm as someone leads me to further into the bus, and onto a seat. I open my eyes to check, and close them quickly.
'Thanks Amanda,' I began, folding up my cane.
'No problem,' she replied cheerfully.
'How did it go with the doctors?' I inquired, remembering that she had left halfway through English the day before.
'He says the implant's acting fine.'
'How strange!'
Amanda lost her hearing about a year ago and underwent a cochlea implant procedure two months ago. She had been recently complaining about hearing strange noises.
'Yeah, I'm starting to think I imagined it,' she sighed. She opened her bag, her zipper making that familiar zig-zag rushing sound.
'Maybe it was an alien signal…' I murmured, turning my head towards the window, listening to Amanda laugh.
x
Classes don't differ too much from what the 'normal' kids learn. At least, not for Amanda and myself. The only difference being is that Amanda sticks around because it's where she feels comfortable, and well, the other classes usually don't provide brail and audio books.
'He's looking again,' Amanda whispered as we sat down to lunch. I had sneaked a peak to see what I was eating today. It looked like it was macaroni and cheese mixed with some weird potato pie. Tasted like it too.
'Who?' I asked dumbly.
'Sebastian,' Amanda replied trying to sound mysterious.
'Oh, still?' Sebastian is a boy in my year who I've caught glimpses of occasionally. He had a dark olive skin tone and shaggy brown hair. That was the only constant factor of his appearance, according to Amanda's descriptions. I had no idea why anyone would look at me. The rest of the school tended to keep their distance from us.
'Yep. Oh, wait… he's getting up. Still looking. Walking…walking…' Amanda stopped speaking. I wildly contemplated whether or not I should check and see for myself.
'Oh, no, he's left the cafeteria.'
I slumped a little in my chair. I had actually gotten a little nervously excited. No one's ever really paid much interest to me since my mutation kicked in and I moved to this school.
The crushing feeling that I was deluded enough into thinking someone may have been somewhat interested in me carried on through the day, and when the final bell had rung, I decided that it was time for me to visit the glade.
x
The glade was a short walk from school, so I told Amanda that my mum was going to pick me up and waited for her to leave on the bus before I began my walk.
After taking a quick glance to check that no one was around, I opened my eyes, cringing a little at the dazzling sun. At least the weather remained constant to the reality my body was situated it. There were at least six different overlapping versions of the school field in front of me, with a faint, slightly clear running along where each overlapped. I could see more trees than there really were, but still I dodged each and every one of them as I walked towards the fence that separated the school grounds from park behind.
I followed a familiar path; one that was close to my reality, all the way to the small cluster of trees and bushes that was nearly identical to at least three other realities.
That was how I first knew this place was special.
In this center of the trees was enough room for someone to lie down on the soft green grass and look up at the sky, still sheltered by the foliage.
As I lay on the grass, I looked up at the sky watching each reality separately; one at a time. Birds flew in one, and transformed into a butterfly in another.
'Hey.'
'Hello,' I replied without thinking, sitting upright abruptly, watching the trees intently.
Sebastian came walking out, looking a little awkward. I stared at him in confusion.
He had walked into a glade where about twenty different realities overlapped one another.
Oh, and… that's right, he probably followed me here.
'Why are you… did you follow me?' I asked, trying to concentrate on finding what could be the most realistic version of him to look at.
'I dunno… just, I guess… I saw you walking off. Then, when you crossed the football field, you started walking funny, like you saw things that aren't there…' he shrugged, looking away.
Was he saying he was concerned, or that he thought I was going crazy? And I wasn't at all sure as to what to say to him.
'You aren't blind, are you?' he blurted.
I blinked and stared at him some more.
'I mean, your eyes…look like you're blind… but I've seen you... look at things,' he said, walking slowly into the small clearing.
'Technically…I'm blind,' I cringed slightly as he walked. It was hard enough trying to focus when he was still.
'Can you see me?'
'Well… sort of,' I began, wondering how I would explain. It didn't really bother me if people knew I was a mutant. My parents just preferred I kept it to myself so I could stay in these classes, because… technically, I can't read text… and writing isn't too easy when you're seeing yourself write three different versions of one essay.
'How many fingers am I holding up?' he asked, holding his hand up in front of me.
Oh dear. It could be five… two or four.
I shrugged.
'It's complicated…'
Sebastian shook his head and looked at me apologetically.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry or anything. I was just… I dunno…' he stopped. It look like he was going red.
'I'm a mutant,' I said. Better him know now before he began to like me anymore. Squash those dreams flat.
'And that's why…' he waved his hands in front of his eyes. I nodded quickly. Why wasn't he lighting torches and brandishing pitchforks at me? We've had about five students leave the school in the past year because they found out they were mutants.
'I see,' he looked up sheepishly, 'I mean… uh… sorry.'
I couldn't help but smile.