My Eyes

by Terri-lyne Gedanitz about a year ago in art

Short story

My Eyes


In the distance there is a pop.

Instantly, my hand turns into a thousand hands before my eyes.

A feeling of falling sweeps over me, flooding me with an image of a dark, endless hole.

Inside myself, I can see a version of me grasping for anything—but there was nothing.

I am alone and realize I have no choice but to fall. No one can help me.

Panic rushes in. I feel as though I am dying.

I scream inside my mind. “STOP! I want out!”

“It’s okay. Nothing can hurt you. It will only last 15 minutes. Observe!” says a voice that sounds like my own.

Calm takes over. My heartbeat and breath become one.

The room blurs and other unworldly things take shape.

I am here, but so is somewhere else.

I sense that there is no boundary. The walls fade around me, yet do not completely disappear. I am still in the room and aware.

Large, flat, clear rectangles appear floating in front of me, forming steps leading beyond the faded walls—into nowhere.

What were once windows swirled into colorless kaleidoscope images. Snakes form within the center, and disappear when I don’t want to see them anymore.

I seem to have control, yet at the same time, I have none.

Blasts of colors swell from the TV, threatening to burst out and paint the room.

I look to my guide. He is hugging my body. He feels like meaty styrofoam.

He looks far away, yet I sense I am still in my body, close.

“Things in the mirror are farther than they appear” was a brief thought that quickly disappeared. My mind cannot comprehend this now.


Suddenly, an eyeball the size of my hand appears in-between me and my guide.

Several smaller eyeballs appear around me, and then disappear just as quickly.

I giggle. I am slightly entertained.

The eyeball watches me, keeping its place between me and my guide.

I observe everything around me for what seems like hours. Everything is on pause—floating, allowing me to take it all in.

I half expect to see what others saw before me. Entities, other worlds…

I yearn for it...

I feel this experience isn’t going to give me what I want, rather, it was going to give me what I need.

I sense that we are alone. No mother, father, siblings, friends. That these are just stories we tell ourselves and the only purpose is to experience, here and there—Alone.

I blink...

“Whoa!” I thought.

“I can see through my eyelids!” I say to my guide.

I continue to blink for what feels like several minutes, testing my new sight. There was no difference if my eyes were open or closed. My eyelids seemed to not exist.

I have no choice but to see everything. There is no looking away.

This brings a strange feeling. Completely unexpected. Eye opening.

I have a feeling I have a choice to see more, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot see less.

My eyes are wide open.

The fear disappears and is replaced with curiosity. The space wants to be observed, and wants to observe me. A dimension outside of my experience that is seemingly more real than reality itself. A look into a fourth dimensional world.

I knew I must be introduced slowly, and sense that whatever is there with me knows that, too.

With time, it all fades and I am left in wonder and bewilderment.

I must revisit this place.

It reminds me—I cannot unsee it.

Terri-lyne Gedanitz
Terri-lyne Gedanitz
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Terri-lyne Gedanitz

I am an Author and Casting Director

I do not write of happy endings or blissful love with no drama, horror or thrill.


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