I haven’t always been blind. I was diagnosed with ‘Retinitis Pigmentosa’ at age twelve, and it progressed to full blindness by age seventeen. It was a rapid case; most people diagnosed with this disease aren’t fully blind until well into their twenties. I guess I was special.
I miss seeing colour the most. Although I dream in colour, and I “see” in colour, I still miss the vibrancy and startling contrasts. How can I possibly see, if I’m blind you ask? I don’t see in the conventional sense. I am a clairvoyant. I have visions. Sometimes it is triggered by an object that I am holding; sometimes a strong feeling from another person can give me a vision as well. I cannot control when or if I have a vision. They come and go. When I first started having them I thought they were bad dreams, nightmares. There were some murders at a near by collage and I had what I thought were nightmares. That was until I saw a girl he hadn’t abducted yet; his next victim. Unfortunately I realized it too late.
When I have visions now, I go to the police; if it’s probative. They didn’t always used to trust me. They always say that murder brings the crazies out of the woodworks. And they always assumed that I was one of the crazies. Visions tend to be very chaotic and disjointed. They can be very confusing and even worse when you are trying to explain them to a skeptic. Now I have the support of a few detectives who actually bring me pieces of evidence in hopes that I can help.
So here I find myself, sitting in my living room at half past eleven at night with Detective Nathan Rawly, waiting for the coffee to brew. My Seeing Eye dog, Hermes, was sitting obediently at my feet.
“Thanks for seeing me so late Jade.”
“No problem Nate, you are always welcome in my home.”
“Yeah, unfortunately this isn’t a social visit.” Sighing he shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. I could hear him running his tie through his fingers, it was a nervous tic. This case had to be a pretty bad one if he was this nervous.
“Nate,” I caught his wandering hands in my own. “It’ll be ok. You’ll get him.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go. “I’ll go get the coffee.”
I stood and walked confidently into my small kitchen. I could tell the coffee was finished by the smell. I stood in front of the coffee pot and took two steps left, then opened the cupboard. I felt for the mugs and pulled two down. I set the coffee pot lip on the rim of the mug and kept my thumb bent over the top, so I wouldn’t overflow the cup. I expertly poured two cups of coffee, added copious amounts of cream and sugar to Nates and only a little honey to mine then wandered back into the living room. Nate had resumed the nervous stroking of his tie.
I held out the coffee to Nate, he took it, being careful not to touch me. He knew I didn’t like to be touched. It could bring on a vision, and I didn’t need to see what he had been doing tonight. “So Nate, tell me, what brings you around here so late?”
“Well, I am sure you have heard on the news about the unsolved murders happening in the honeymoon suites around town. Well, I’m on that case. We’ve hit a wall. We got nothing. And I was hoping that maybe you could help me out.” “You know that I don’t like to do this with such brutal murders. But since you’ve exhausted every other route, I’ll give it a try.” I set my coffee cup down. There was a fine tremor in my hands. I didn’t like dealing with murders. I did it because I had a gift, but I didn’t have to like it. Nate had known me long enough to know that. He and I had been friends for a long time. He knew about the nightmares I had had from using my gift on police matters. Sometimes I thought it was more of a curse than a gift.