The Visionary

May 1, 2008
By Valerie Quirk, Springfield, MO

Who am I? . . . . . . . . . . .Who am I?
I am unlike the others, I can feel it, and I think they can feel it too; many turn away when I look at them, but I don’t why. I’m special (but please, don’t let anyone know). I have a power, though you can’t really see it. No, I can’t fly, or time-travel or anything like that. My power lies in the deep abyss of my soul, swimming through the darkness knowingly, but never recognizing the light. This power is wrapped tightly around and within me, squeezing me firmly, so taut that at times I can’t breathe or think on my own. But I like this feeling, this feeling of security. It protects me from losing myself and falling into the even greater void of the World.
I am able to perceive the world in a light of observation; consuming the core of a person by simply looking at them. My eyes are penetrating and piercing; by simply making eye contact with someone for a brief moment, I can see into a person, and somewhat feel the sensations of their past adventures and memories. I can capture their souls and even steal a part of it for my own keeping.
I am able to harness this power and not let it overtake me. My brain, a series of thousands and thousands of rows of filing cabinets sorting through the abundance of things I can learn in a day and the hundreds of cores I can extract from people. I can pull from these files anything I want, at any time and keep locked away the things I don’t want to recall. In essence, I am able to see the true colors of a person, their memories and past happenings, as well as soak up all of their gained knowledge.
People always say that you can tell who a person is by the clothes they wear or maybe the music they listen to, but to me this concept is hypocritical; for by seeing and feeling what others have done, seen, or felt; is like getting a glimpse at the things that are the substance of their being and who they really are. I don’t learn of just book knowledge, for that is just a minimal part of my power. I am able to acquire life-learned lessons; some of these lessons take a life-time of living even to fathom the meaning of, but I am the one who can learn it and even maybe experience it in a day.

I one day hope to spend my days traveling the world, in search of new findings of wisdom. Every culture holds its own rituals; every race and religion its own history. It will soon be my sole-purpose of life to learn of these histories, listen to the stories past down through generations, and become one with everyone; this is my dream anyway; a dream that might not be on the pre-written history of my future. My objection as the owner of this power, is not to solve all the problems of the world (or save it for that matter), but to see it for what it truly is, learn a few things along the way, and desperately try to find the one thing that ties the human race together; the one thing we all share, and try to move people in the direction of not dwelling on the many things that we don’t.
This power, however, also comes with a load bearing burden, that I must wear everyday, like the pocket of my pants or the zipper of my jacket, these things share a relationship much like that of my power and me, they did not chose to be part of one another but still fully rely on the others existence; for what is a pair of pants without its hidden compartment, a jacket without its closure? My powers fault remains as so: by drawing the full lives of people out, I also see and feel their pain and suffering; the death of a loved one, the afflictions of solitude, or even the abrupt but fine brief sting of a paper cut. The trick to my power is what I like to call my, “Choice of Vision”. I am able to choose what I want to pull from a person. I never take everything from a person, for everyone deserves the respect of keeping at least some of their memories and what they’ve done or said in confidence to themselves. I always stop myself at a certain point; once I feel that I have achieved the gist of a person and learned from them to my fill.

In essence I could one day gain infinite knowledge, experience, and World and self-awareness. My mind is a fine tuned machine; the precision of my power governed by my mind to a tee. But my mind is not be the only thing working double-time as I learn of the history of the world as we know it and the people who inhabit it, but more importantly, and dominantly: my heart.

My heart has an immeasurable capacity; by being able to feel a person’s memories, I can (if only for a moment) step into their shoes, hear through their ears, and see through their eyes. But to love and respect everything about a person, has taken time and insistency on my part; to truly love and accept everything about a person, their flaws and life-mistakes included, is a certain and complex power in itself.

As time goes on, I know my heart will begin to take over in the driver’s seat of my life, and persuade visions unto me that might not be the most desirable: a death, a good-bye, or a loss, would end-up being commanded forth by my heart, and my “Choice of Vision” would end up being pushed aside by a “higher force” at some times.

But why would someone ever want to have a power like this? Why would a person want to inflict the turmoil’s of another upon them, as well as the unavoidable tribulations of their own-life? Well, for one I never chose this power, it chose me. I was born with this power, but as a younger child could not express or communicate the abilities my power held with anyone; I had no sense to think that I was different. It seemed to me that I was just ‘like everyone else’, but I am not. As I have begun my already troublesome expedition of growing up, I have only recently come to the realization of this twisting life I live; and come to the acceptance of the purpose of my existence. But my answer to all of those people wary of my explanations is still simple and concise: How can the world continue if we don’t truly understand our peers, our family, our friends, or even our enemies? We live with a mask on, this mask is locked tight with a bolt and key; it lies against our skin covering our identities, containing the true content of our heart and being, all the days of our life; sometimes even we can’t find our own key. But if there was just one person, who can understand, listen, and see the lives of people as they really are, a person who holds the master-key; whose visions can and will aid in the perception of the human beings of the World in its entirety, a person who has the all seeing eyes of veracity; we can and most certainly will move ahead with incredible speed.

I am the person whose visions find answers that once were unknown, who can understand each and every person, and see the World through the eyes of a stranger. I know I must begin my mission soon, but I am just not sure I can follow all the intricate paths my power has begun to lead me on; for the time being I like living in my hushed World of soundless being; continuing to collect, and feel all of the memories of the World as we know it, the things imprinted into the soft Earth itself and seemingly tattooed on the hearts of people; designs I know, only I can see. I analyze the World, watching silently with my all seeing eyes; but yet I still continue on my journey for the human link (though I happen to learn a few things on the way) my sole self- benefit being: in my quest to find the answers and identities of the world, I can only hope to one day find mine.
I am the Visionary.

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This article has 26 comments.

Lydia Smith said...
on Aug. 11 2008 at 12:48 am
Great story Val!

Darnell1 said...
on Aug. 10 2008 at 4:37 pm
What an amazing story! You have SO much talent!!

on Aug. 10 2008 at 2:26 am
this is an awesome story!

C-Bow said...
on Aug. 9 2008 at 12:36 pm
This is the best essay I've ever read by an eighth-grade student. She must have had an excellent writing teacher.

hpylee said...
on Aug. 7 2008 at 1:16 pm
What our crazy world needs is this HERO the article --SWEET

2uchristine said...
on Aug. 6 2008 at 1:22 pm
what a great character and story.Make it into a book or sell the story to marvel to make it into a comic book


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