I’ve been wearing glasses for as long as I can remember. I’ve always had bad vision, but over the years it deteriorated so badly until I couldn’t see a finger in front of my nose.
One day when I was working out and my glasses got knocked down and shattered, I decided it was time for a Lasik surgery. After weeks of grueling research online, examinations and finally the surgery, I got my new eyes.
When I was told to open my eyes, I did so and nearly jumped out of my seat. In front of me stood the doctor who had performed the procedure, but his skull was cracked open and bleeding. His arm was broken in various places and he was missing a few fingers.
“Something wrong?” – he asked and when I told him, he told me to go home and get some rest and call him in the morning.
I dismissed what I saw as a figment of imagination and rode back home, marveling at the HD environment I was able to see with my new sight. The next morning I called the doc. His secretary picked up and what she told me made me nearly drop my phone. Apparently the doctor had been in a car crash yesterday which took his life. I found it odd that I saw him all bloody and wounded yesterday and that he died the same day, but attributed it all to crazy coincidence.
That was until two weeks later when I ran into a random person on the street who had red stains from bullets all over his shirt. There were dozens of bullet holes in him, but he seemed unfazed by the whole thing. I asked him if he needed me to call 911, but he just dismissed me and left. Later that day I saw him in the news. Apparently he was shot and killed during an armed robbery.
It was then that I realized that with my new vision I could see when people would die. I decided to keep the whole thing a secret, not even telling my wife. Since then, I had run into a few people who looked mortally wounded and I usually try to give them a warning. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t, but there’s not much more I can do. Telling them I can predict their deaths doesn’t usually work out well.
A week ago my wife suggested we spend the weekend in her parents’ lodge outside town. She said we could make some barbecue and spend quality time together, just the two of us. She and I had grown a little distant in the past few months due to her working overtime and hardly being home, so this was a great opportunity to rekindle.
I happily agreed and got ready, while she packed everything. But this morning when I woke up and looked in the mirror, I nearly screamed.
“Is everything alright honey?” – my wife asked and I nodded, forcing a smile.
She said she would be waiting in the car and left the bathroom and I told her I’d be there in a minute.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror again and saw blood coming down from the place where the fire poker had been embedded in my temple.