Fatal Vision
By
Mark Richard Masters
Copyright 2013 Mark Richard Masters
Fatal Vision
by Mark Richard Masters
"So why do you think you are here today?" asked the big man while he put a sweater on over his dress shirt.
Shifting uneasily in the padded chair where he sat Tom said. "Because I am being forced to."
Putting down the yellow legal pad and pen he had just picked up, the man stated. "You can leave at any time you want to."
"Yeah right," Tom said with a snort. "And if I do I'll end up in jail. That's not really a choice to me."
"You did hurt the woman," the doctor pointed out.
"If you know the details why are you asking me?" Tom asked.
"Because I wish to hear about it from you. To get your side as it were," the man replied with a smile.
"Okay Doctor Wiemer, I'm here because I grabbed this woman's arm and yanked on it," Tom said as he sat back in the chair.
"And why did you do that?" Were you trying to hurt her? What had she done to you?" asked the doctor as he picked up the paper and pen to jot some notes.
"Which question do you want me to answer first?" Tom asked.
"Which ever one you wish to start with," Doctor Wiemer replied.
"Well to start with the question you didn't ask, no I don't know her. As a matter of fact, today was the first time I had run in to her. So she hadn't done anything to me before, and I wasn't trying to hurt her," Tom told him.
Jotting down some notes, the doctor said. "But you almost broke her wrist."
"That's what they told me," Tom replied with a shrug. "She shouldn't have tried to take my glasses."
"And that made you upset because you're blind?" the psychologist asked as he glanced from Tom's dark glasses to his red tipped cane.
"I'm only mostly blind, and that wasn't the reason," Tom replied calmly.
"Then the reason was?" the doctor prompted.
"I told her no," Tom replied.
"Would you clarify that please?" the doctor asked automatically.
"She asked me to take off my glasses, and I said no. So she tried to take them off me, and I had to stop her," Tom said with a little heat.
"I'll agree that she was rude to do that, but don't you think you may have overreacted?" Doctor Wiemer asked.
"What she did was deadly, and no I didn't overreact," Tom replied.
"How could her taking off your glasses possibly be deadly?" the doctor inquired as he jotted something down.
"You won't believe me if I tell you," Tom said.
"You don't know that for sure until you try me," prompted the doctor.
After a moment of silent debate Tom stated. "Anyone who looks in to my eyes dies."
"I see," said the doctor as he wrote something else.
"No Doctor Wiemer," Tom said evenly. "I don't think you do. I'm not talking about an accident a day, week, or month later. I'm talking a matter of seconds."
"And why would you think that's true?" asked the doctor.
"Because it has happened many times before," Tom replied.
Looking up from his pad, the doctor asked. "When was the first time that this happened?"
"When I was thirteen," Tom said with a frown. "A girl named Stacy wanted to see what color my eyes were, so I took off my glasses. And when she looked in to my eyes she dropped dead on the spot. As did Peter, who also looked before I put my glasses back on."
"What did the teachers say happened?" inquired Doctor Wiemer.
"They said that Stacy had died of a congenital heart defect," Tom replied. "And Peter died of a sudden massive stroke."
"How could you consider those your fault?" asked the doctor.
"Come on, how many twelve or thirteen year olds die of a massive stroke? Let alone a sudden one? And how likely is it that Stacy's heart defect went unnoticed all those years, even before her birth?" Tom demanded. "You're expecting me to believe that they didn't notice it in the ultrasound?"
Leaning forward, the doctor said. "I'll grant that the boys death was unusual, but hardly your fault. Nor was the girls. For all you know they may have known about the defect."
"And the others?" Tom challenged.
"Yes, lets discuss the others shall we?" responded the Doctor. "How many people do you believe you have killed?"
With a grimace, Tom said. "Fifteen or sixteen."
"What do you parents have to say about that?" Doctor Wiemer asked after a moment.
"Nothing. They died right after Stacy and Peter," Tom told him.
"Were they next?" the doctor asked.
"No," Tom replied. "They died in a train wreck."
"Hm. So tell me about the next time it happened," prompted the doctor.
"After Stacy and Peter, most of the other kids were scared of me. But not all of them. Those that weren't started the rumors and even a fight. That's when it happened again. On my way to my foster home a bully named Bret Smith jumped me. Actually he beat me down really good. Then our eyes met and he dropped like someone hit him with a steel rod. So I grabbed my glasses and ran," Tom said. "Word around the school was that he had died of an embolism, but he had seemed healthy to me."
"Is it possible that you gave the rumors more credence than they were worth?" inquired the doctor.
"No, it isn't," Tom said firmly. "Peter and Stacy happened before the rumors. Besides none of the deaths are easy to explain."
"I see," Doctor Wiemer said. Then looking at his watch he added. "I wish to discuss this further with you, but first I need to give my secretary some instructions before we continue. Do you mind?"
"Go ahead," Tom told him.
Grabbing a sheet of paper from the back of the pad, the doctor wrote a note. Then he hit a button on the phone and said. "Could you come here for a moment Peggy?"
"Of course doctor," said a woman's voice from the phone speaker.
A moment later, a long brown haired woman came in the office door and approached the doctor. As she approached, the doctor held out the note which she took promptly.
After she read the note, the doctor asked. "Any questions Peggy?"
"Just one. Should I see to this immediately?" Peggy asked.
"I would appreciate it," Doctor Wiemer answered.
With a nod, Peggy turned to go. But as she began to walk past Tom, she grabbed his glasses and stared in to his eyes. Then she fell to the floor.
Closing his eyes quickly, Tom felt for his glasses in her lifeless hands. Finding them, he put them back on and said. "Her death is on your hands you know. I did warn you."
"But that's impossible!" stammered the doctor.
"Tell that to her," Tom snapped. Then looking at her Tom asked quietly. "Who was she to you anyways?"
"She was my wife," sobbed the doctor as he realized what he had done.
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