What do you see?
Do you see what I see? Do you see black as black or do you see it as white but only call it black? What does black remind you of?
I know what you see for it is also in my mind. I was born with a gift. Others call it a curse but they do not know, they do not see as I see. They only judge what they can see but they do not see far. My gift gave me a dent in my appearance. My eyes blend in one and shine like black marble, like mesmerizing holes into the soul. They associate me with a demon but they do not know me. I know them.
My gift allows me to go into others minds and see the world through their eyes. I see too many things, too many memories that come with what they see, too many feelings. They really hurt sometimes but sometimes they make me happier than I will ever be. My name is Gabriel, I am five and three quaters and I am what they call a mute. I have no friends. Will you be my friend?
Some pity me but most are frightened by me. Mankind fear what they do not understand. Either way none of the paths I have walked in my short life have brought me a friend, until today.
I live in an orphanage and today they brought in a new girl. I prodded her mind gently, not fully exploiting. She felt like a mortal angel in disguise, her mind as moral and pure as a newborn infant. However, as I prodded deeper I felt, rather than saw, the scars that lay across her mind yet it did not scar her soul. This happens only in rare cases of mortal beings for most cannot find, and separate, the connection between their mind and soul and thus often drift into damnation. I pulled out of her mind only to find unseeing eyes staring at me, seeing me. Her hair fell over her face like shadow against snow. A beautiful face of innocence emerged from behind the shadows while eyes of ivory found eyes of ebony and connected with an inner explosion.
She faltered and stumbled, but no one helped her. They recoiled from her. I took the chance and entered her mind fully only to be greeted by darkness. No vision, only sound. No visual memories, only more feelings and sound. Suddenly a deep and intense painful feeling of humiliation and loneliness hit me so I withdrew from her mind as fast as I could, trying to escape the deep penetrating pain. I saw that she had stumbled and fallen with her face on cold, hard stone. I rushed to her side and as I approached she turned her face to me and I saw in her unseeing eyes, not tears of pain, but tears of hope at my approach. Her lip was gashed which bathed her teeth, chin and throat in crimson blood. I knelt by her side, reached out a hand and touched the blood on her chin. She recoiled from the sudden unexpected touch but relaxed as I soothed her with my mind while holding her shoulders in as steady grip as my little arms could manage.
She gripped my arm tightly as I helped her up and led her to my empty lunch table in the corner of the silent watching room. There we sat, mute demon and blind angel, as friends.
*Simone Troskie, September 2009