He could always see things others couldn't. He always knew things others didn't. He had his dreams. He believed in them. He had his visions. He believed in them. He wasn't sure where they came from... or how they got there. But they were there. He couldn't deny that fact.
They were there. They were his. They were real. To deny them would be a lie. To publicly lay claim to them would be suicide. This he knew because when he tried to tell his Mom or Dad of what he "saw", they told him that it was only a dream... not real.
When he tried to tell any of his four sisters, they would laugh at him and tell him he was nuts. He would hear them talking about him behind his back... mocking him. Saying he was crazy, insane, totally embarrassing.
Choo- choo Charlie they would call him telling him that his train had run off the track, or that his train took off without him. Run Charlie, run. Choo-choo Charlie's train is 'round the bend. Get real Charlie.
Yeah, real suicide, so Charlie learned to not tell anybody anything about "real" anymore. That was his. It belonged to him and nobody could take away what's his from him. Nobody. Not even him. He couldn't just... stop seeing. He couldn't help it if he really did see things others didn't and hear things others didn't.
But, he did learn to not take his credibility and put it on the chopping block for somebody to behead. And that's is exactly what it felt like too. The lowering of the guillotine. Just two words... "You're nuts". Swoosh- chop. Two words in any language. You're nuts... he's crazy... that boy, I tell ya, his train went 'round the bend. It didn't matter how they said it, it came out to the equivalent of two words --"Swoosh- chop".
Just because they couldn't "hear... they couldn't "see"... they couldn't truly be believers!
Charlie knew one thing then... okay... he was nuts- not stupid. Just because they didn't have it doesn't mean that he doesn't have it. It wasn't given to them... yet.
He had his dreams. He had his visions. And... he had his reality. He knew the difference between the three. It was given to him. It was his. They wanted to take it away from him. They didn't want him to have it. That is why they said that he was nuts. To make him ashamed of it. To embarrass him out of using it.
But, he was not stupid; he knew the old saying "If you don't use it, you lose it" certainly applied in this case. They didn't want him to use it so he would lose it. But, it was given to him. It was his. The dreams. The visions. The reality. All three different, and yet, all three interlock. Sometimes the dreams or the visions seemed so... so... real. His dreams, his visions, his reality. It was his. It was given to him.
Some dreams and visions were so real that he knew that he would remember them forever. It was as if they were messages trapped in his mind. He also knew that he would never let them out until he was told to. The messages... they would tell him. But, in the meantime he would continue to maintain silence about them. It was given to him. The ability to maintain silence, that is.
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