I left it alone after needlessly questioning my family, who had no answers. But, she got scared easily so it was more fun on my part to tell stories about ghostly hitchhikers and backseat serial killers while we drove. I packed all my bedroom things into a rent truck and started my drive early morning on a Tuesday, expecting to reach somewhere around St. Louis by midnight or earlier. We had driven past a place called Decantur in Illinois, off the main road, at around nine that evening and we switched places.
Our truck had a sort of back seat that we designated as the bed, so I prepared to take a nap. Micha started listening to an audiobook on the radio via her phone cable; and as I hunkered down, I gazed through tired eyes out the window from my half slouch. It was then that I saw two, tiny lights. Two, glowing, pale white lights gleamed from the darkness outside of the car. From the black of the outside, I wondered in my fatigued state of what it could be. But these lights moved around in a pair.
I sat up and drew closer to the window and peered out, my curiosity overcoming my tiredness. As I stared out, I found myself staring at the road rushing by us, with thick forests on the side of the road in the almost imperceptible darkness. My eyes adjusted, despite the light within our car from the dashboard and I saw what I cannot explain to this very day.
The two lights, tiny pinpricks in the night, were attached to a hairless, wrinkled head. They were eyes, eyes that shone like the tapetum in animals. The head was a part of long, lean, naked body that spanned around the length of a horse, eerily thin and pale. Muscular legs raced along the side of the road and its arms were bent at painful angles to match its speed. It ran beside us, like some sort of wild animal chasing its prey.
The naked, awful thing pursued alongside us, leaping over speed signs and along the fences of private properties. It kept pace with us, never faltering and always staring at me with those terrifying, piercing, glowing eyes. My mind lapsed and my ability to decipher what this was escaped me. I instinctively pulled back from the window and cowered on the opposite side.
Micha at this point had glanced back at me and asked me what was wrong. My eyes were still glued to the window, to those lights, those eyes. She asked me again and slowed the truck down, her more-rational-than-mine mind thinking maybe we need to stop. But once I felt the steady speed of the car drop, I broke from this strange, nightmarish grip of fear.
I screamed at Micha to fucking drive, to not stop, to go as fast as the truck could go. She was confused and a rapid-fire influx of questions came.
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Just fucking GO! Micha, now beginning to look terrified, complied. That thing, that frightening, naked, godless thing never stopped. It ran beside us, a few feet away from my window. I stared into it face, wanting nothing more than for it to go away. It soulless eyes glared at me, and as my eyes adjusted even more to the blackness of the night, I began to see its entire face come forth.
No tongue flapped in it mouth, just a cavernous empty dark. It's skin was stretched over protruding bone and was pale, bloodless and scarred. It had stumped, ragged flesh around its supposed ear, like it had been chewed on-- torn out. This thing was also nose-less: an unbroken expanse of skin where it should have been. I felt wetness on my skin and touched my face. Mealor also said that there are several questions as to why this seems to occur. Senior Joey Miller associates numbers, letters, and days or months.
Along with improving memory skills, many have suggested that synesthesia training could also be used to combat decline in cognitive functions or even aid people recovering from brain injuries. Mealor agrees the synesthetic tendencies are at least partly shaped be experience and can be acquired. Senior Matt Hodges sees notes as colors. He said he sees A as red, B as blue, and F as a shade of golden brown.
Synesthesia has helped him occasionally with memorizing music. Mealor also said that functional differences exist as well. For example, grapheme-color synesthetes have shown activation in color regions of the brain when looking at words. Synesthesia is a phenomenon that in past has struggled with awareness, most notably in the academic community. When Hodges first experienced colors while hearing sound, he had never heard of synesthesia before.
According to Hodges, he told a friend about the greens, browns and yellows he experience, and his friend asked him if he had ever heard of synesthesia before. We see things, smell things and taste things. We feel what we touch. Most of us hear things. I was born deaf. But my mom — she was born hearing into a hearing family.
She became sick and as a result is deaf. My brother and I are the third generation of deaf children born into the family. Before I entered fourth grade, my parents decided to move to Indiana to find a better education for me and my brother. After going to ISD for about three years, I was feeling frustrated and not challenged academically. I asked my parents if I could consider transferring to a mainstream school. I planned to enroll in the school near my house, Clay Middle School.
I decided to stay at Clay Middle mostly for the educational challenge it provided,. Falling in love with the atmosphere, I wanted to try to attend for a full year. I did not return to ISD. I did not want to. Being deaf is not that much different from being hard of hearing or hearing. I try to apply his philosophy to my education. For example, in a normal classroom setting, the majority of the students have to look at the teacher, their notes on their desks and the board.
I do the same, but I have an extra place to look: the interpreter. Another example is with respect to my culture. I am a part of the Deaf society, one of many diverse lifestyles at this school. Overall, I am an ordinary high school student, like all other students.
We have similar roles in school, which go along the lines of waking up early in the morning, going to school, studying for tests, doing homework and more. Even if I do not have an interpreter with me, I can still interact with you through gestures, writing, or sometimes, lip reading. I do not feel any different from the rest of the kids at CHS. I grew up deaf just like other kids grew up hearing.
We are very similar; we merely use different means to communicate. We simply speak different languages. Like everyone else, I have hopes and ambitions for the future. My mom attended college there.
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The college is mainstream; Deaf and hearing students go to school together. I still have not decided what to major in, but I think it would be cool to major in science, culinary arts or education. My decision to transfer to a mainstream school provided me with the opportunity to discover that I am not really that different from students who can hear. I simply use a different language.
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Dara Levy is a staff photographer for the Acumen. The views expressed in this column do not necessarily represent the views of the Acumen or the Acumen staff. You may reach Dara at daralevy chsacumen. Senior Dara Levy is a photographer for Acumen. This is her staff photo, also displayed online at chsacumen.
One moment will always remain. Though circumstance handed him this eye, chemistry teacher Tim Mylin has learned to look forward. He sits at his desk, patiently waiting for any confused student who may approach him with a particularly challenging chemistry problem. Very few of these students will look closely enough at his left eye to realize that for the last 34 years it has not actually been an eye. Mylin lost his left eye during his sophomore year in college. I heard them shoot, and then one pellet ricocheted and somehow got me in the eye. Originally, he retained some peripheral vision.
Upon closer examination, however, doctors told him the vision would fade over time and may cause a sympathetic reaction in his right eye, which would result in losing vision in both eyes. The fake eye he obtained is a thick, plastic contact lens painted by an artist to match the colors of his right eye. Jonathan Burns, who holds a doctorate in the field of optometry, said. If they have to remove it all, then they cut every muscle and the optic nerve.
Then they take the eye out and replace it with an artificial one. But contacts, sometimes you have to get it in right. At about the same time Mylin began wearing his ocular prosthetics, he also took to wearing glasses.
Initially, they were for protective purposes, but now they are necessary for his remaining eye. Burns described the eye as a system designed to bend light into the back of the eye to hit the retina. The eye has difficulty seeing when the it bends the light in such a way it no longer hits the retina. However, he said he has never taken it out during his teaching. His eye has been a source for some humorous moments during his teaching career. Mylin, do you really have a fake eye?
An impression of the eye socket allows for a more accurate fit, matching the volume and eyelid contours of the eye to allow for maximum movement. The mold is then cast. An artist paints by hand on the acrylic disc with dry pigments to reproduce the eye as best as possible.
Through My Eyes
A clear plastic dome is added over the painting. The patient wears a white blank, shaped like the conformer, and the iris positioning is marked. The iris is then carefully attached at the indicated place with acrylic. The veining of the sclera white of eye is detailed by a frayed red silk thread to match the veins in the other eye.
A final layer of dry pigments and acrylic capping is applied to seal everything in. The eye is then ground down to the right shape and polished with pumice. The whole process can be as quick as two days. When light is reflected in front of the retina but not directly into it, vision becomes blurry. Glasses solve the problem by bending light in such a way that the light will hit the retina, according to Burns. The loss of an eye loses the second image to calculate the distance of an object. You adapt, move on, and it becomes kind of a natural thing.
Sometimes definitions and meanings are different. She later took an interest in movies and began auditioning for films. If I had died in that vision, I would still be there. The fact is that there are many people in Hell. Too many people! But how many of our family are going there?
You know what? The Bible says Hell is getting bigger to hold all the people who are coming see Isa. We should be doing something about it. Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Keep yourselves in the love of God looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. And on some have compassion, making a distinction; but others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire, hating even the garment defiled by the flesh Jude Laurie A.
Ditto travels around the world sharing her testimonies of Heaven and Hell to reach people for Jesus. As I read this I was convinced more than ever that hell is my destination. As a child and young adult I was extremely close to the Lord. He was my confidante, my Friend — He was everywhere with me.
I married, and had a child. One dark night as I traveled down a nearly deserted highway, I stopped the car. For several days there had been a voice telling me to tell God to get out of my life. For several years after that I worked on denying the existence of God. Hardening my heart. Fast forward many years. I have prayed unceasingly to be forgiven, and I do love God. I go to church, have a nodding acquaintance with the Bible, and have sung on the praise team at church.
Hell is real. That seems crazy, as we have trusted Jesus Christ as our Lord and savior. Jesus paid the price at the cross, so why would his believers go to hell? I guess, for myself, I need to look at who I have not forgiven, or may struggle to have forgiven. How do we know perfectly if we have forgiven someone or not? I love the Lord, and I know that he loves me; I guess what I get confused is when Christians that have gone to hell say one thing, or another. I realize that salvation is only the beginning of us going to Heaven, but what more would take us to hell? Just a wee bit confused.
It is a state of being. I feel the same way about Heaven. That being said, this resonates with me quite powerfully. Is that correct? Thank you for this. I am so grateful. I read this to my husband and we were blown away with how you described the feeling you felt in your body and that you knew it was for unforgiveness! Hell is just in another realm? How can I be sure that I am not going to hell?
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Post Comment. I have replayed August 28th over and over at least 1, times, if not more. Laurie Ditto 3 months ago 11 Inside the Gates I passed through gates that trapped the darkness inside. Once the understanding of the judgment arrived in my heart there were four distinct pains: Water—Immediately, all the water left my body, creating a desperate, painful need.
Bone marrow—In an instant my bones turned black. Breath—The first breath allowed fire to touch everything in me and be carried throughout my body. Agreement—Agreeing with the judgement that Hell is where I belonged removed my humanity. Post Views: 8, Laurie Ditto Laurie A.
Mary April 15, at pm. Eric Klingsten April 15, at pm. Erin April 16, at am. Pulane Lesebo April 16, at am. Hammo April 16, at am. This testimony blessed me much and I learned new things. Thank you.
Dealing with the poverty you see on your travels
Hammo Reply. Beverley Maskowitz April 16, at am. Nicklaus Robinson April 16, at am. Joanne April 16, at pm. I will order this book and get copies for family members!!! Athol Harris April 17, at am. Bismark Asem No-Yeboah April 17, at pm. Great lesson learnt Reply. Kimberly Gordon April 20, at am.