Free Eyes to the Soul by Dale Mayer

here. It hadn’t taken too long to realize his life was completely screwed up. But how and why he didn’t understand. He knew he was in the hospital. And that he was in poor shape. But he had no recollection of what had brought him here.
    A sense of urgency had ridden him since waking up. He’d needed to tell someone something. But he couldn’t remember what. Or even who he was supposed to tell.
    He’d seen something. Heard something? Something important. But what?
    And why couldn’t he remember? He stared at the white curtain divider. He could barely move because of his injuries. Still, from the bits and pieces he’d heard, he was the lucky one.
    At least he was still alive.

Chapter 7

    A ny movement had Celina groaning like she’d hit her senior years overnight. Decrepit and worn out, like a clock that had worked long past its warranty date. She knew she’d hit a crossroads. Something bad was going on. God, she wished she had help. Again.
    Her friend, Jillian, was beside her. Both were quietly drinking tea. In the years they’d known each other, Jillian had never mocked, laughed at, or appeared to be disgusted with anything Celina had said or done. That kind of acceptance was priceless. Then again, she didn’t know everything about Celina.
    She’d been a passenger in the car accident that had taken Celina’s sight just three weeks after she’d lost her fiancé.
    “You didn’t hear anything?
    Celina shook her head, then voiced a fear she’d been quietly nursing. “Maybe I did it while I was asleep.” She winced as she heard the words out loud. “No, I couldn’t have, surely?”
    “I don’t think so,” Jillian said, her voice barely above a murmur. “But what do I know? Is there anyone you can ask?”
    Celina smiled a little. “I wonder if there’s a help line for stuff like this.”
    “Maybe. You see and talk to ghosts; maybe one of them can tell you what happened?”
    “That’s the trouble. I haven’t seen any of them since I woke up this morning.”
    “As in whatever happened might have scared them, too? That doesn’t sound good.”
    Celina’s chair creaked as she settled back. She hated the restlessness in her soul. Hearing a better understanding of the situation than she’d have thought from her friend, she asked, “Have you ever seen ghosts?”
    Jillian hadn’t shared much of her family history. A private person, she also had an eclectic group of friends that she was seriously closemouthed about. Celina didn’t mind. She knew Jillian needed these people to keep her sanity. She was also a musician and was driven to compose, yet never shared her music. She said it was secret. Special. Personal. Couldn’t give it to the world. Actually, she’d said something one time that Celina had puzzled over. She’d said, “It’s not mine to give to the public.” After that she’d refused to answer any more questions about it. She often looked tired, worn out. As if she was battling demons of her own. And knowing Jillian she probably was. She’d always been one to cheer on the underdog and defend the underprivileged or help those in need.
    And as warm as she was, she wasn’t one for physical touch. Celina had reached out many times early on but Jillian always stayed back, avoiding contact.
    “Forget about me and my nightmare.” Celina leaned closer, worried about her friend. “How are you ?”
    “As always, I’m fine.”
    Celina smiled at Jillian’s offhand comment. “But you aren’t always fine. You are often very depressed and try not to let others know.”
    “Except you,” Jillian’s voice lightened with wry humor. “You always seem to discern my feelings at a level I don’t myself.”
    “A side effect of losing my sight,” Celina said lightly. “I’m more sensitive to nuances in people’s voices.”
    “When do you go back for your next checkup?”
    “Coming up soon. I’m trying to forget about it.” She stared ahead, her thoughts consumed with dread at the thought