The Prophecy

I had dreamed of him several nights before I actually saw him. The dream was the same every time. He was frustratingly just out of reach, an invisible barrier keeping me from him. I was sure though, absolutely positive, that my life somehow depended on him.

Then I would wake up, a strange emptiness curling in the pit of my stomach and camping out there all day. After a dream night, I was a bit out of sorts, resentful of the fact that he didn’t actually exist in the real world. And that only served to make me even grumpier. How could I miss someone who was a manifestation of my mind?

Until that day on the walking trail, I honestly thought I might be one cupcake short of a dozen. It wasn’t so farfetched since my mother had gone insane, and it was supposedly hereditary. The idea terrified me so much that I had actually researched it online, but I couldn’t find any concrete statistics. It would make me feel better to know that it wasn’t my destiny to end up like her.

I was walking down the densely-wooded dirt path that spanned the length of the city and ran parallel to the river that drew so many industrial mills to our area, my arms crossed protectively over my chest, my thoughts consumed with the fight I’d had with my aunt earlier in the day. She was ridiculously outraged when she found out that I had made a spontaneous visit to my parents’ grave, which was against the ‘house rules’.

Maybe if she would explain why she was so stubbornly dead set against me going there, I would be more willing to obey her wishes. But attempting to wheedle the information from her was like banging my head against a brick wall, painful and pointless. For years, I had been asking Aunt Larissa to give me one good reason not to visit, and for years she’d told me that sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.

“Maybe one day when you’re older and capable of understanding, I’ll clarify my reasons. Trust is the most important aspect of a relationship, Bray. You must trust me that it is best for you not to know right now.”

My aunt didn’t get that it wasn’t about trust. It was about unraveling the mystery of my mother’s last day on earth and trying to figure out what had happened to the woman who’d been there one day and was gone the next.

Even now, at fifteen, I was still totally clueless as to why she’d done it. One minute she was my charming, loving, attentive mother, and the next, she came utterly unhinged. I wanted to understand it, mostly because I remembered the mother who would sing her daughter gently to sleep and make smiley-faced pancakes for breakfast.

I halted at my favorite spot, where the sun cast its beam through the trees straight to the barren ground. I stood in the small pool of light, turning my face up to the warmth and letting it spread through my body. I sometimes wished that I could climb that ray of light all the way to the Heavens.

I wouldn’t miss my life here so much. I had no true friends in Regan Falls. Ever since my ‘bouts’ (my aunt’s term) had worsened, I had pushed everyone away. I couldn’t control my powers, and I didn’t want people staring and gossiping about me behind my back.

I might miss my aunt, but I didn’t think she would miss me. I’m truly not trying to sound all emo and angst here. It’s absolutely true that I had been nothing but a burden to her since she’d taken me in, shutting her so completely and utterly out that she’d eventually given up on trying to be a parent to me. The past few years, we had just co-existed in the same house.

The wind picked up abruptly, rustling softly through the tree branches overhead, and I caught a flash of color out of my peripheral vision. Something had moved on the other side of the riverbank. I scanned the lush foliage on that side of the river, frowning as I raised my hand to block out the glare of the sun.

The area was completely overgrown with weeds and errant branches, and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would be on that side of the river embankment. It was against the law anyway. The city had posted no trespassing signs all along the border of the woods to keep people out.

Maybe it was only a deer, I thought, dropping my hand from my eyes. But then I saw him. He stood in the open now, his eyes meeting mine unflinchingly, and a mixture of fear and relief coursed through me. It was an odd reaction to seeing someone who had previously only been in my sleeping world, but seeing that he was real calmed my most secret fear that I was descending into madness as quickly as my mother had.

I raised my hand to wave at him, my mouth opening to call out, and then he was gone. I blinked, my mind not able to wrap around the fact that he had simply disappeared in the space of a second. My eyes scanned the opposite embankment quickly, but there was absolutely no sign of him. I shuffled slightly to the right to see if maybe he was hiding behind a tree. Nope, he was absolutely, irretrievably gone. Where had he gone though?

I pivoted sharply and started back toward the trestle bridge that would carry me across the river to the other side. From there, I could scale the fence that the city had erected to keep unsuspecting people out of the confusing backwoods that many had gotten lost in, and possibly locate this guy, hence validating what I’d just seen.

Then I would know irrevocably that he truly existed in this world, and I wasn’t losing it at all. Still, that knowledge would raise many more questions than I already had, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answers. My steps slowed at the thought. If he was real, how had this guy managed to infiltrate my dreams? And more importantly, why would he want to? Who was I to him?

What if the real thing was nothing like the guy in my dreams? What if he didn’t evoke feelings of protection and safety, instead causing me to feel hunted and threatened? Why would I even think that though? There was nothing about him that was threatening. He was actually quite ordinary looking. Well, maybe a bit cuter than ordinary. Okay, a lot cuter than ordinary, but still, nothing about him screamed rapist or murderer.

My head hurt from the questions that were tumbling through my mind. All I wanted to do suddenly was to go home, back to my aunt’s house, and push all this into file thirteen, where I pushed all the bad stuff and locked it away in a secure cabinet in the most remote part of my brain.

I reversed direction once again and headed for the break in the woods that would lead to my aunt’s house. I was being a wuss; I was aware of it.

If I actually found him, he could tell me something that I wasn’t prepared to hear, and if I didn’t, I would be right back to square one, doubting my sanity. Neither option appealed to me at the moment. Going home to the normal blare of the television seemed like the safest choice at this point.

Of course, I would have to deal with Aunt Larissa. She would no doubt start in again on me. Nothing ever changed there. I didn’t know why she was keeping tabs on me, or who she was using to do it. I just knew that she was. I had seen them before, hiding behind different objects big enough to eclipse them. Or so they thought.

I guess it should have struck me as weird that there were people who would be willing to do something so mind-numbingly boring. My aunt carried a lot of clout in this town though, and she had plenty of money to back that clout up.

As I walked, my thoughts drifted back to the dream guy. It hadn’t escaped my attention that his expression was carefully guarded, but there was a hint of anticipation there as well. Anticipation of what, I wondered? I couldn’t know, but what I did know was that if he was going to become a part of my waking world, then I needed to make up a name for him. Just calling him the guy was already getting old.

I shall christen him Phantom Boy, I decided with a small giggle, since he can disappear at the drop of a hat. It might be a stupid name, but it beat the anonymity of ‘the guy’. I shook my head as I realized that finding humor in the situation might just be more proof that I was bananas, as if I needed more proof.

Aunt Larissa pounced as soon as I came through the door. She appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, hands planted firmly on her hips and a scowl marring her normally pretty features, “Where have you been?” She snapped irritably, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

I purposely ignored her as I veered around into the hallway and strode toward my bedroom. She wouldn’t like it, but I didn’t like that she needed to be informed of my whereabouts 24/7. So chew on that for a while, Auntie, I thought spitefully, smiling a little at the idea.

“Brangwen, you answer me this instant.”

I turned and struck, much like a coiled cobra does its prey, “First off, do not call me that. No one but my mother has ever called me that. Call me Brae.” I spat, advancing on her, “Second off, why don’t you have your spies inform you of my whereabouts this afternoon? They seem to be very adept at their job.”

“Young lady, you are skirting the edges of my patience right now, and you don’t want to be in the vicinity when it finally snaps.” Aunt Larissa advanced on me as well, and though it hurt my pride to do it, I backed down the hallway away from her. Her presence was always intimidating, but even more so when she was angry.

My cheeks heated as my eyes strayed to the floor, “I was just walking on the trail, Aunt Larissa. No grave visiting today, okay? Happy?” I was pouting big time, and I knew it. But it made me mad that she didn’t deem me as mature enough to be privy to the information surrounding my parents’ premature deaths.

I would be sixteen in six months. If not now, when? How old would I need to be for her to decide that I could hear the truth? I feared sometimes that she would never tell me all of it. She’d slipped a few times and divulged tiny pieces of the puzzle, but as soon as she realized what she’d done, her lips tightened and silence reigned the rest of the day.

“Are you going to eat dinner with me?”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to go to the bedroom and lick my wounds, but I was sure that if I didn’t, she would grow even more suspicious, so I traipsed behind her into the kitchen and sat down at the small circular table in the center of the room.

Aunt Larissa made our plates and placed mine on the table in front of me, and then took her seat across from me. Her cool stare passed over me quickly as she sipped from her glass of wine, “How was your day?” She asked calmly, as if nothing had just transpired between us.

I glanced at her, and then cut a tiny corner off my baked salmon, popping it in my mouth, “It was okay.” I replied quietly, swallowing the anger I’d felt at her just moments ago. It would only prove her correct in her assumption that I was immature if I kept acting the way I was acting.

“School was okay?”

I nodded, my fork tracing a path through the garlic mashed potatoes she’d prepared. My appetite hadn’t been the same since I’d started dreaming of him, but tonight it was non-existent. Maybe it was Phantom Boy’s one time appearance that was dampening my desire for food.

“Did Briana talk to you today?”

I looked up sharply, “Why does that matter?” I asked, frowning.

My aunt’s cold gaze warmed a bit, “Brae, everyone needs friends, someone to talk to about….things.” She said softly.

I stared at my food moodily. Briana was the only one who’d stuck around when I had begun to isolate myself. She’d begged me to tell her what was wrong, why I was drawing away from her and everyone else, but I’d just shook my head and walked away. I already felt a freak because of my past. If my friends were to find out what I could do, they would no doubt ostracize me anyway.

But for whatever reason, my aunt couldn’t leave it alone. She brought Briana up every single day, pushing me to befriend her again. It wasn’t as if Aunt Larissa hadn’t seen my little outbursts. She had been present for many of them. Why would she want someone else to see it when she knew what they would say about me?

“I’m better off alone.” I said darkly.

“Honey, Briana is trying so hard to…”

“Aunt Larissa, drop it please.” Anger was stirring again deep inside me, and I knew what was going to happen if she continued to push me.

“Brae,” Still the soft voice, “She’s the only one of your friends who-”

Unbridled rage surged to the surface, and my fork clattered against the delicate china that Aunt Larissa took so much pride in as I finally lost control, “I said I’m better off alone!” I screamed, and the salt shaker in the middle of the table rose up, swinging wildly in the air before it turned upside down and dumped the contents onto the table.

“Brae! Put that down!” Aunt Larissa stood and attempted to grasp the salt shaker, but it flew across the room and smashed into the wall, shards of glass falling to the floor.

I pushed my chair back and ran from the table to my room, slamming the door behind me.

My CDs began to tremble and the perfume bottles on my dresser clanked together as I closed my eyes, trying to regain control of my runaway emotions. Deep breath in, deep breath out, I lectured myself. Slowly the CDs and the perfume bottles stilled as my anger cooled.

I flopped down on the bed, burrowing my head in the pillow. I wished Aunt Larissa would at least have the decency to tell me what was going on. I was sure that she knew.

She’d slipped one day right after it had started a few months ago and said that my gifts were going to be greater than my parents because they were so strong already. I had asked her what she meant, and that was it. The steel muzzle came down over her mouth, effectively ending any chance I’d had of finding out some small piece of the truth.

My cell buzzed, letting me know I had a new text message. I reached over and grabbed it from my nightstand, frowning when I saw it was from Briana. Apparently there was a party at the house of one of our mutual friends, and she wanted me to come, smiley face tacked on to the ending for good measure.

I put the phone down and turned my back to it. I wasn’t going to any party, especially not after what had just taken place here with my aunt. I needed to learn to control it before I could hang out with my friends again, which probably meant never considering my success rate with it.

I sat up suddenly, an idea rushing through my mind unbidden. Maybe Phantom Boy knew something about it. It couldn’t just be a coincidence that he’d shown up in my dreams and in my reality so soon after it had began. I made up my mind then and there that if I were to see him again, I would chase him down and demand that he tell me what he knew. He may think me crazy, but so what? Lately, I thought me crazy too.