If Thine Eye Offends Thee

         My reflection confirms it, I have one good eye. It’s the right eye. It’s my favored eye, bright green in color. The other eye, the left, it's blue color is nearly washed out with a terrifying fringe of yellow, this eye? Not so good. This eye shows me the horrors of today, future atrocities and past crimes.

         I can remember back to when this eye betrayed me; when I could no longer see the same things with it as I see with my good eye. Unfortunately, from early on, I can only see the evil in things with this eye.

         I can recall, I had a childhood playmate. One minute, we were playing and scampering around the playground. The cares of the world could not touch us. The next minute, I perceived the fiend that had once been my friend. A friend  that turned out to have a demonic soul.  His demise was unexpected; although, it oddly filled me with relief that his brutality would not be released upon the earth. It was a playground accident where the swing-set chains acted as a hangman’s noose. The moment his feet stopped twitching, his tormentor fled his hanging corpse and ensured that many futures could not be destroyed by that boy.

         It’s not just in people that I see the worst, Where I should be viewing blue skies, I clearly observe the poisons that mankind has unleashed into our atmosphere. When the colors of a rainbow should be orderly and vibrant, my other sight only shows murky discordant images. Elaborate meals that should have been savored ,would always sour in my mouth when I viewed the corruption set before me. What should have been the little joys in life have brought me nothing but anguish.

         Inanimate objects that I view and come into contact with, will resonate with vibrations left over from the hideous people who have left their mark on the thing. With some of these objects, I can feel the horrendous purposes those items have been used for. I can see the pain that has been, or is intended to be inflicted. I remember thinking those same kind of thoughts about our own family car before the accident took the lives of my parents, the torture of knowing that the vehicle was to be the instrument of their deaths. I Images of of my parents mangled and bloody bodies are ever present. I frequently relive that horror in my minds eye.

         The blessing of that crash caused the partial blinding of the hostile orb. For ten years a patch covering that offensive eye allowed me normal, but limited vision, unimpeded with the distorted images of the life around me. For a short while, I have been able to be involved with life as if everything was ordinary. I grew, lived, and interacted. I developed and was able to foster relationships once again. I married and adjusted. I am starting a family of my own.

         Alas, my insulting sight has returned despite the covering of the wounded ocular. On the tenth anniversary to the day of that violent vehicle accident, I am once again plagued. I work hard to ignore the wretched visions.

         Even now, the sight of my wife and lover would normally fill me with great joy. It is hard for me to believe the unwanted knowledge that the child that she carries is foreign, her duplicity of deceiving me with a child not my own. The child itself is the spawn of hell. If this ogre were to come to term, it would surely be a beast set loose on unsuspecting victims.

         I catch sight of her in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. With my good eye, I see her resting comfortably on our bed , angelic and radiant with the glow of a woman heavy with child. With the promise in her smile, a life worth seeking. With the other eye, I can only see death and destruction of a bodily form that has been ruined, which may, or may not have been human; The remains of some devastation. The expression on her face is one of sheer horror. Her eyes accuse me of atrocities.

         I return my gaze to my own reflection with my patch removed. The image in the mirror is of a haunted man, a man who has seen too much, a man who has born witness to the evils of the world.

         It’s that damn eye. I must rid myself of this corrupter. My hand shakes as I bring the bloody knife up and plunge it into that damn eye. I intend to rid it from my skull. I will be afflicted no more.