Diary Entry 5 – Bernadette

I feel a little better now.  I still get nightmares, but it’s not so bad.  Thank God for Peter, that’s all I’m saying.

The thing is, I thought not needing glasses would be the coolest thing in the universe.  And it was for all of ten minutes the next day (after the…er…incident).  Then the hallucinations started.  I saw people glowing or with different faces under their regular faces.  And I knew stuff, like, personal, private, don’t even tell yourself kind of stuff.  I’m not a poet so I can’t really explain what it was that I saw or how I knew that Amy Adkins had an abortion 2 weeks ago and Bobby Deitrich is definitely gay, despite his, um, reputation.  Some people I could tell a lot about, like what their favorite color was or whether they liked dogs.  Little, dumb things that no one really cares about.  Other times, I could see when people were lying (which was just about all the time, ‘cuz, you know, it’s high school).  The creepiest thing was that I could see relationships.  I knew just by looking at certain people, who they were in a relationship with (Coach Hammond and Ms. Steffen from the office, for instance, yelch).  They didn’t even have to be together for me to see it, either.  It’s like they had marked each other.  Kind of like dogs marking their territory.  Double yelch.

I know that doesn’t sound all bad, but I had a blazing headache by the end of the day and I was having a hard time ignoring how some of the shadows seemed to be funny shapes.  I don’t make a habit of checking out people’s shadows, but some of them were, um, unusual.  This one kid, Bryant (of the Trench Coat Mafia), had a really black shadow and it was larger than it should be, like he had something riding on his shoulders.  I hadn’t ever noticed him really except as another familiar face in the hallways.  Now, I can’t not notice him.  And I know what he wants to do, I honestly do, just like I know he won’t do it yet.  It’s like I can see death in his future, the kind of big, splashy death that has top story written all over it.  I want to say something to him, try to be his friend, maybe help him out of his darkness, but to be honest, I’m scared.  If he asked me for a piece of paper I’d probably start crying.

Anyway, that was a really horrible day and by the end of it, I was scared and freaked out and my stupid brother didn’t wait for me after school.  I didn’t want to walk home alone.  What else would I see?  What if someone followed me?  What if something followed me?  I know you’re just a book and can’t really understand the trauma I went through, the growing panic that there was something horribly wrong with me.  I was jittery and shaky and everyone around me was a reminder of that wrongness.  Then I remembered the card I’d taken from Peter.  His number was already in my phone so I called him, thinking that if he was so close maybe he could walk home with me.

Actually, he came and picked me up in his little 2-door junker car.  That’s sounds wrong.  It wasn’t a bad car, just old.  Not creepy, either.  Definitely not something a pedophile sadist would drive around.  And you wouldn’t believe it (or maybe you would), he hopped out of his car as soon as he parked and gave me a hug.  It was exactly what I needed (not a hug from a strange man, but one from someone who cared about me and understood what I was going through).  He was all,”It’s okay,” and “I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you for this,” and stuff, which was a little confusing until we hopped in the car and he explained everything.

I have the gift of Sight, which is a catch-all term for a special ability linked to vision.  Some people See the future or the past.  Some See people’s thoughts.  I kind of See the Truth, which is a bit ambiguous, I know, but that’s how he explained it.  When I look at something, my mind picks up on all sorts of little details that normal people don’t notice, so consequently, I seem to know more about people than what they freely tell others (kind of like that guy from “Lie to Me,” but more so).  Special people, like super heroes, register a little differently.  Peter said with training, I’ll be able to tell what kind of powers a person has based on what I See manifest, or something.  So, for instance, some one with wings can probably fly, even if those wings only appear to be shadows.  He also said that my Sight will be unique to me, so there’s no telling what I’ll See.  Everybody’s power manifests differently, I guess.  Which is great, unless you want to know what to expect.

Fortunately, Peter has a lot of experience with my kind of ability and he says that the reason I never Saw anything before was because of my glasses.  Something about lenses messes with the process and since my old eye sight was so horrible, I probably never would have realized I was Seeing anything at all.  Here’s the best part, though.  The reason Peter feels so horrible about my first day without glasses is because he fixed my eye sight during the exorcism.  He said he did it without thinking because it was the only way for him to see the demon and he didn’t realize that I was clueless about my ability.  But I wasn’t mad at him.  Or at least, after I’d yelled a lot and threatened to jump out of the moving car, I calmed down enough to let him explain.  Then I was still mad, but he promised to help me control my power and buy me some fake glasses so I could block my Sight whenever I wanted to.  And then he promised me Coldstone ice cream, so I forgave him.

Now that I’m alone, I’m still a little freaked out.  And when I say “a little” I mean “A LOT!”  I’m used to keeping secrets, but how am I supposed to keep the secrets of other people?  What am I supposed to do with this gift, as Peter was fond of calling it?  Should I use it to fight crime?  Join up with the super heroes?  No way.  Their health plan sucks and leading a double life is impossible with my schedule.  Besides, super heroes spend their lives alone or in fear for all the people they love.  I don’t want that.  Maybe I could be a villain?  I mean, I like the whole Goth look even if I can’t ever pull it off and I do like cats.  They’re kind of synonymous with evil.  I could call myself Cassandra, after that crazy lady in that one book I never read, and threaten to reveal the secrets of the most powerful heroes!  And then get pounded to a pulp and spend the rest of my life Seeing through the bars at the Martinville Penitentiary for the Criminally Insane.  Great life plan.  I guess I shouldn’t make any big decisions until I figure out what this all means and what my ability really can do.

It’s such a lame power, though!  What can you do?  Oh, I can crush coal into diamonds!  How about you?  I can run on water!  How about you, Bernie?  Oh, well, I’m glad you asked.  I can See stuff!  Uh-huh.  Lame.  Oh, well.  At least with my cool new glasses I’m not quite so hideous as before.  Maybe I’ll be able to See if a guy likes me before I spend all of middle school pining for him.  Hmmm.  I wish I could tell Tabitha about this.  Then again, maybe it’s better she doesn’t know.

I was just glancing through my last entries and I realized I never wrote about career day.  The guest speaker was Lady Fabulous…’s sidekick.  Uber-lame.  He was in an all white uniform with that shield that he gets his name from and he didn’t answer any questions because of some emergency.  And even though he’s just a side kick, half the girls in my class have scribbled “Mrs. Shield” all over their notebooks.  Gross.

Oh, and the school newspaper found out about the “fundraising” for the Homecoming dance (from an unnamed source, i.e. me) and they did a spread on it.  Half the student body was protesting and demanding their money back so the VP said that they changed the venue to the school gym and cut the prices so that if a majority of the student body goes, they get to have a live band.  Ugh.  He promised that the money would all go to the dance and any leftovers would go straight in the pot for Prom.  High schoolers are soooo cheaply bought.  I’m still not going.

That’s all for now (I write, like this is some brief note, or something).  Later, my faithful companion.


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