The Things I Saw

When I was young, my parents thought I was strange. They often told me I was crazy. They said I talked and played with things that weren't really there, things they couldn't see. They said they were terrified of me, of the things I would often do or say. I knew things that a 7-year-old shouldn't have known, secrets that no child should ever whisper.

By the age of nine, since I insisted that the things I saw were real, my parents made the difficult decision to get me professional help. They shipped me off to a mental wellness center, as they always put it. They said it was all for my well-being. But was that true, Walhang?

Walhang stared at me with his big eyeballs and his mouth open as if he wanted to swallow me whole. Walhang was a friend I made during my stay here at this crazy house. There were others just like him, others the normal blind humans cannot see.

Walhang was the first to approach me when I arrived at the center. He appeared one night, crouched at the foot of my bed, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. His skin was a sickly, translucent gray, and his limbs were long and spindly. Despite his monstrous appearance, he exuded a strange sense of familiarity.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice a guttural whisper.

"They think I'm crazy," I replied, my voice trembling.

"Are you?" Walhang tilted his head, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I see things, things no one else sees. Like you."

Walhang grinned, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth. "Then you're not crazy. You're special."

Over the next few weeks, Walhang introduced me to others like him. There was Grix, a shadowy figure who slithered through the hallways, and Lira, a small, impish creature with wings that fluttered like a moth's. They all had their own stories, their own reasons for being in this place. They told me about the history of the wellness center, about the spirits and entities that roamed its halls long before it became a place for the mentally ill.

My parents visited occasionally, but our conversations were always strained. They looked at me with a mix of fear and pity, unable to understand what I was going through. They asked if I was getting better, if the doctors were helping me. I always lied and said yes, even though I knew the truth: I wasn't sick, and there was nothing to fix.

One night, as I lay in bed, Walhang appeared again. His eyes were wider than usual, his expression more intense.

"It's time," he said.

"Time for what?" I asked, sitting up.

"To show you something," he replied, extending a bony hand.

I hesitated, but curiosity got the better of me. I took his hand, and he led me through the darkened corridors of the center. We descended a set of stairs I had never noticed before, deeper into the building than I had ever been.

At the bottom of the stairs, we entered a vast, dimly lit room. The air was thick with an oppressive energy, and I could feel the presence of countless unseen entities watching us. In the center of the room stood a large, ornate mirror.

"This is the Mirror of Truth," Walhang explained. "It shows you what you truly are."

I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest. As I looked into the mirror, my reflection began to change. I saw myself, but not as a child. I was older, my eyes filled with a deep understanding and power. Around me swirled the figures of Walhang, Grix, Lira, and many others, all bound to me in some inexplicable way.

"You are one of us," Walhang said softly. "A Seer, born with the ability to perceive the hidden world. Your parents feared what they couldn't understand, but you were never alone."

Tears filled my eyes as I realized the truth. I wasn't crazy. I was special, just as Walhang had said. The things I saw, the beings I interacted with, were real. And I was meant to be their guide, their connection to the human world.

When my parents came to visit the next day, I told them I was ready to come home. They were relieved, thinking the treatment had worked. But I knew the truth. I had found my purpose, and I would never be alone again.

As we left the wellness center, I glanced back and saw Walhang and the others watching me. They nodded, their eyes filled with pride. I smiled, knowing that my journey was just beginning.