Seeing emotions

Mind your own business. That’s always been the major rule of my life. Not just a rule of thumb but a rule of all my other fingers as well. Until that is, I had my accident. There I was walking home along the high street with Lee, chatting away and minding my own, when the next thing I knew, I was lying on the pavement with an express train roaring through my head. I struggled to open my eyes. Lee and a strange man wearing paint-splattered overalls were looking down at me anxiously.
"Are you okay?" the man asked. "I’m so sorry. The paint pot fell off my ladder and caught the side of your head. Thank God it was almost empty. I’m so sorry. Should I call for an ambulance?"
"No. No, thanks." I struggled to my feet. I felt the side of my head. It was throbbing and I already had a lump the size of Venus there, but at least there was no blood. The express train took its time but finally rumbled out of my brain. But then I realised something. Not gradually. Not in stages. It hit me all at once. As I looked at Lee and the strange man, I was aware of something amazing. Shocking. I could actually…see them. Not them them, standing with worried expressions on their faces. The real them. Lee seemed to be standing in a corona of blue light, which seemed to indicate his worry. Tendrils of it were reaching out to me, and I instinctively backed away.
“You sure you’re all right, mate?” asked the man again, and my head swung around to look at him. He too was standing in a corona of blue, but it reached more towards him than to me. There were tinges of red in there too, flashing through when I winced.
“I’m alright,” I said huskily, “just ought to remember that going underneath ladders is bad luck!” It was a terrible joke, but it seemed to convince the guy that I was ok.
“Alright then,” he said, apparently reluctant to let me go. “But-ah-you won’t, like, mention this to anyone, will you? Only if you did, I’d be for the-” and he drew his finger across his neck.
“Yeah, I understand,” I said, and watched as relief, orange and mist-like, flooded into him.
“Thanks, mate,” he said, instantly my friend because of this. “You take care of yourself now, yeah?” I mumbled a response and watched him step carefully back onto the ladder, his colour now back to a mundane grey.
“Hey, are you really ok?” asked Lee, at my shoulder. He’s about my height, although he’s about a year and a half younger. He was still radiating blue concern, and was staring into my eyes, looking for some sign of concussion. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Since when did you know first aid?” I asked, slightly annoyed that Lee obviously didn’t believe me.
“Ah, I’ve seen a video on it,” he muttered still looking at my eyes. “How many fingers?”
“Three,” I answered, just to see his reaction. He flooded through with blue, darker this time, and opened his mouth to say something.
“I’m joking, idiot,” I said, and then started as his emotions flashed black.
“That was harsh,” he said, his face composed and his voice quiet. “Only trying to help.”

“Yeah, well.” I snarled back. I didn’t know who was supplying these answers, but I didn’t seem to be able to stop them. “Maybe you want to ask my permission before you start staring into my eyes and treating me like I’ve flipped!”
“You have flipped,” he said, still quiet. “I think you’ve got to go to hospital, because that bump has made you weird out completely.”
“What do you know?” I hissed. Oh gods, I thought, what am I doing, what am I saying? This can’t be happening. I’m seeing weird colours and having an argument with my brother. I’m obviously in a dream of unreal proportions. I wouldn’t really say that to my brother, would I?”
“Nothing, I guess,” he said, his shoulders hunched.
“You are so right, little brother. You know nothing. Now go find one of your little friends to play with, because quite frankly, I don’t even want to know you exist from now on.”
I turned away, looking out across the city. All these people! With so many colours! I could see a man walking quickly out of an unmarked building, his whole corona a deep red of shame. I scanned across the street, drinking in people’s emotions. A young man came out of the big magistrate’s court across the road, joy and relief mingling around his body like oil and water. I looked across again. The cinema came into view next, and I caught a quick glimpse through the window of people, queuing to see a film. And then, without warning, they exploded into white flame.
I started forwards, rubbing my stinging eyes. I couldn’t believe that an entire roomful of people were aflame and nobody had said anything. They were all totally engulfed in the white fire now, and I was surprised-no, amazed that the fire alarm wasn’t wailing. How could they be blazing if they weren’t…on…fire…?
I almost heard the penny drop. I looked again, harder. The people were still there; some holding hands, some leaning into each other’s shoulders and some just looking at each other, enjoying each other’s company and drinking in the other’s beauty. I could see some different tinges throughout; a well-dressed middle-aged man blazed white, while the stunning blond beside him was a bored grey. A young woman, blue and black with concern and annoyance, was trying to shepherd her young children, purple with excitement, into the cinema screen. As I looked I saw more colours, but still the majority were bathed in white light. And it wasn’t just the young people. An elderly lady, bent slightly, lent on the arm of a tall, white haired man. They were walking slowly, taking their time, looking at everyone else in the room. A couple were kissing, and the lady glanced up at her husband and murmured something in his ear. I saw him smile and whisper a response into her ear, and their two flames suddenly blazed higher.
“Jono!”
I shook my head, trying to tear my eyes away from the sight before me. Of all the colours I could see, this white was the most beautiful. I wanted to touch it, to see if I could actually feel it. I wanted to tear it away and hide it.
I wanted to keep them all, look at them, keep them safe. I suddenly felt irrationally angry at these people, standing transformed in these flames and unable to see it or appreciate it. I felt like a god, looking down on mortals as they went about their lives, unable to comprehend that it was I who kept them alive.
“Jono!”
I shook my head again, this time to dislodge my thoughts. I was no god! I was just-
“Jono! For god’s sake! Wake up!”
I turned muzzily, still cocooned in my own thoughts. Where had all these thoughts come from? Why did I feel so angry at everyone? I looked at my brother through misty eyes. I could just about see him, but my vision was dominated by his burning black corona.
“Yeah, alright, you’ve had your sad, sick person joke. Now grow up! God, you’re so stupid and immature.”
“Lee,” I said. I could no longer see him; only his emotions still blazed across my visions. “Lee, I can’t see a thing.”
“Ha ha. Real cool, real funny, Jono. Now are you going to come home, or are you just going to stand there looking like a prat?”
“Lee, I swear to God I’m not playing around,” I said thickly. I was starting to panic now. My eyes felt like they were filling up with glue. I could feel the panic grip my heart, making it beat faster and faster. It drummed in my ear, so loud that I jumped away.

And still I could see him, blazing with annoyance and embarrassment. I could almost see shapes in the flames, a nose, a pair of eyes, but they kept shifting and moving. I saw a tinge of light blue flood through the black, and sensed him lean towards me.
“You really can’t see anything? Because I swear if you’re kidding around I’ll thump you so hard-”
“Really,” I said, “I can’t see a blessed thing.”
“Open your eyes, then.”
I felt a sudden ache of relief. Maybe I’d just had my eyes closed; maybe I could still see. It would earn me the biggest dead arm ever recorded, but at least I’d still be able see.
I opened them, and heard Lee gasp and then retch. I couldn’t see, and I was ugly to boot.
“Lee?” I asked softly. “Lee, are you okay?”
“You have to go to the hospital,” Lee gasped. He was yellow now, scared beyond belief. “They can sort you out, they can fix you.”
“They can’t,” I whispered. “Besides, I’m not broken. I don’t need to be fixed.” I looked around as I said this, taking in the beauty of all these precious emotions. “I’m not broken,” I repeated to myself.
“What’s mum going to say?” asked Lee. I could feel him shaking through his hand, which was around my wrist, ensuring I didn’t walk into anything.

She didn’t say much, in the end. She cried, and demanded to know who had done this to her son, and then cried some more when I said I didn’t know.
I hated lying to her, but I felt that I had to- I’d given the man my word and the memory of his relief was too strong and beautiful for me to throw away. I went to hospital, of course, to have all the standard tests done on me. They all conclusively proved that I was, in fact, blind. Couldn’t see a thing. They gave me the badge of the blind, the white stick, and sent me home.
From then on everything got harder in the house. At first it was impossible, then hard, then merely difficult. It took me some time to get used people as burning flames instead of actual people, and I still couldn’t look steadily at people in love, but I was becoming more proficient at controlling my anger, which seemed to have flared as a result of the accident.
I was walking through town one day, feeling slightly annoyed because I was behind on my work, when I heard a sudden screeching of tyres, screams of “Get out the WAY!” and then a sudden silence. Not the sort of normal silence when there’s still something happening in the background, but real silence, when everyone stops breathing for a second, just waiting for something to happen.
I looked around. People were still blazing blue all around me, tendrils of concern reaching out to me in quick shoots. I wondered why, but lazily, because I didn’t feel particularly bothered at the moment.
“Come with me,” whispered someone, right behind me. I turned around, expecting to see a concerned old lady or a paramedic. No one.
I frowned, and turned again. The same people standing there. So who had whispered to me? I swung my stick in a wide arc all around me, checking to see if they were playing at some stupid game. Mock the blind kid. Yeah, real funny. They hadn’t found it so funny when I broke the guy’s nose-
Stop, I thought, stop and breathe. I’d gotten dangerously close to losing it then, which I didn’t want to do if it was some little old dear who’d come to see if I was alright. I could happily knock seven bells out of a gang of idiot youths, but I had a feeling my conscience might come down a bit harder on me if I splattered granny’s nose across her face.
“I’m okay,” I said, turning around slowly. “I think it missed.” I checked anyway, going over my body with my hands, checking for any particular damage. Nothing.
“Nevertheless,” whispered the voice, again behind me, “you must still come with me.”
“Okay,” I said, dopily. I knew I should ask who this person was, why they needed me to follow them, and why they had a thing for hiding behind my back, but my mind seemed to be slightly separate from my body. I stepped forward, and felt a soft hand slip into mine. It was small, and so light that I almost couldn’t feel it. Almost. I could feel it if I concentrated on my hand, and since I couldn’t see it, I tried to imagine it. I built up the image forming in my mind, the tiny, light hands, the gently whispering mouth and the soft skin.
Admittedly I made the skin up, since I could hardly feel the hand, but it was nice to imagine it.
We walked on for a little while in silence. It was peaceful, wherever we were, and I suddenly realised I hadn’t slept properly in a long time. I yawned reflexively, and glanced sideways at my guide, who wasn’t there.
Anywhere else this would have worried me, but here I felt too tired to wonder why. It seemed trivial and wrong to ask at the moment-I knew I would have to, but now it didn’t seem like the right moment. And I was scared. The only thing that had given me a will to live since my accident had been my ability, and now this person had managed to walk for however long without me even catching a single glance at them. It was a little disconcerting, to tell the truth.
“We will stop here,” said the voice, which should have scared me.
“’Kay,” I mumbled, and collapsed on the floor. It was grassy, and smelt good. I heard my guide settle on the ground next to me. I could feel something in the air. It was the question that I hadn't asked.I had to ask it, even if I regretted it for the rest of my life because if I didn't, I'd regret it more.
"Why can't I see you?" I asked, half-asleep.
"Because I'm not letting you," came the reply, with a tiny hint of amusement. "I will let you, though, if you want me to."
"Yes, please," I said, trying to stifle a yawn.
"Shield your eyes," said the voice.
I did as I was told, putting my hands over my eyes and thrusting my face into the grass, not questioning the absurdity of the order.
“Behold,” came the voice, all around me now.
I gently uncovered my eyes, and then sat up, all sleep forgotten. All around me, as far as could be seen in any direction was burning white flames, more like water than fire. They rippled and moved like oil.
“Who are you?” I whispered, awed into semi-silence by the sight.
“You already knew that, don’t you?” the voice replied.
“Yes,” I whispered, “yes, I did. But-” and I suddenly felt a choke of sadness “-I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” He said, gently. “But that is the way of things. Sleep now, for here you will be healed, and here, at the last, will come all people. Will you wait for your loved ones?”
“Yes,” I said, and to my surprise felt water beading in the corners of my eyes. A gentle hand stroked them away and brushed back my hair, and hushed me, and laid me down to sleep.
And I slept.