The Pseudo-Chronicles of Mark Huntley

I See Them - 9/27/04

Monday, September 27, 2004

I've seen three more people with a purple aura.

A couple of them looked at me briefly; they must have noticed that I was staring at them. Probably I was pretty obvious. All three were adults, like the old man on Saturday, but that was all they had in common with him. Different races. Different ages. Both genders. Well, I guess nondescript clothing was another characteristic they shared. Dark suits or skirts, greys, browns. Nothing special about their faces, either, except that they were hard to focus on. Faces that actively rebuffed my attention instead of drawing it.

And here's an interesting thing: I saw somebody with a silvery aura this morning. Like the one that the little boy had in the dream. Now, if the boy was supposed to be me, I don't get it. Because I sure as hell don't have any aura coming off me. If I did, I'm pretty positive I'd be able to see it now.

If this is what going insane feels like, I'm surprised by how lucid I actually feel. Sometimes I even feel more aware than I was before. Maybe my brain is just grateful for the freed-up resources, now that I don’t have to obsess about my eyes. They've been fine ever since the incident at the theatre. 

I keep having the seriously crazy thought that the last stretch of eye-ache episodes was, in fact, my eyes... finishing up adjusting somehow. Yeah, I know. Eyes don't just do that over the space of a couple of weeks. And as Lucy said, if they adjust rapidly, it’s going to be in a negative direction, not a positive one. 

In any case, I'm going to see Dr. Leonsis tomorrow for his take on the change in my sight. I tell myself it's to get his professional opinion. But mainly I just want to see the look on his face.

Gwen has stopped calling, thank God. She must have convinced herself that I'm going to be all right. Yeah, she’s really out of the loop now. I haven’t had any desire to tell her about the auras. They might—no, they would— make her think that I've gone mad (again). If seeing auras is an insanity indicator for me, I'd say we're in alert status red. 

I would turn myself in to the proper authorities if I were sure that were the case. I guess if crazy people could sense on a submerged moral level that they were about to cut somebody’s throat or drown their own children, they would do something to prevent it. But that rarely happens. If I were about to do something harmful to others, I'd probably have no clue until I was too far gone.

But these are the thoughts of a reasonable person, right? Because I feel reasonable. I’m seeing creepy auras on random people, but my head feels clearer than it has in a while. That argues against mental illness. Or somatoform disorders, or what have you. Insanity is a dead end. There’s more going on here.

So let’s try and figure this out. Let’s look at the timeline.

My eyes get bad. They get worse. Then they get better all on their own. And immediately afterward, I start seeing auras around certain people.

Coincidence? Sure, right. I’m not buying it. Something’s changed. Assuming I’m not crazy—I am assuming this from now on!—then that means I’m seeing something I didn’t before.

Or rather, something I haven’t seen in a while. Not since I was a kid. Not since Lynne Samuelson.

Which begs the question, who was Lynne Samuelson?

I haven’t been able to find anything about her online. Nor about the incident itself. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a cover-up—we’re talking about something that happened in the eighties, in the twilight years of that long period comprising most of human history: Pre-Internet. But—I wonder what happened to her? Is she still alive today? I didn’t kill her, or I don’t think I did.

When I dreamed about her, she had a face that screamed evil to me. Let’s continue with this thought experiment—positing not only that I’m not crazy now, but that I have never been— and assume that she really was a bad person. An evil person.

What if she’d committed some awful crime that only I knew about? And then I was perfectly justified in attacking her?

She had an aura. These people that I’ve seen, they have auras. What if the aura, purple or silver, tells me—through some extrasensory way—who the criminals are around me? The evil folks?

Or, not who’s committed crimes in the past, but who’s about to commit a crime?

Hey, man, maybe I’ve got a superpower! It’s up to me now to prevent villainous acts before they can even come to pass! And they’ll call me… the Prognosticator!

Um.

Okay. Back to the drawing board. There’s got to be a different way to approach this.

Meantime, I'll be going through the old routines, as always. Sleep, eat, work. For lack of a better substitute. This weekend is my co-worker Carrie's wedding. As I've said, it’s the last place I'll want to be. But with my eyes in working order, I don't have a valid excuse to stay away. 

Too much thinking about things that confuse me, and things that I dread. Now my head doesn’t feel so clear. You know... I think a long lunch with Dale is overdue.

posted by Mark Huntley @ 7:57 PM

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