She’s cracking up – need to get her out of here.
“Yes…”
Silence.
What do I say? – need to tell her – not crazy – special powers.
Urgency made my knuckles go white.
He began to pick at the bobbling in his discolored blue jumper.
“Sellotape gets rid of bobbling” that’s all I could think of.
“I haven’t come here to ask for housewife tips” he whispered. His stunning brown eyes darted around the room. It was virtually empty now.
“Why have you come to visit?”
“To…to tell you you’re not crazy and-”
I got up.
“Thank you for the support but the only way I can “not be crazy” is to go to my doctor’s-”
“You don’t know me…but I was there – I was there – when you- you broke down. You were dizzy and you were stumbling…” His voice trailed off. He began to pick at his jumper again. Pick. Pick. Pick.
“You remember?”
How can I forget?
“And you’re not crazy…I have a theory…”
Pick.
Need a new jumper – why do I do this when I’m nervous?
“What theory would that be?”
“My auntie…she used to be, different like you,”
Great another loon. That’s probably why he came to visit. So he can be in the company of his kind.
She won’t believe me.
“Try me” I muttered.
“What?”
Pick.
“Nothing…”
[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium Just hurry up and say it – she might[/FONT]
“I’ll tell you a story.”
Pick.
“Go ahead.”
“My auntie…she can levitate things-”
“Have you seen her do it?”
Pick.
“Yes,” He said slightly exasperated.
Just say it
“Okay, let me talk. I’ll answer your questions on the way hopefully,”
Pick.
“She can levitate things, move things – but only when they’re at least 15cm offs the ground. It’s cool, she does it with her hands – but she uses like hand gestures to move things. Well she used to, she’s dead now. She was burgled, she got in the way”
Miss her – must do this for her – must find the nine.
Grief and urgency spread over my body bringing a tear to my eye and white to my knuckles. Matt gave me a questioning look and I ignored it.
“Couldn’t she just move things to stop them killing her?”
“No…somehow that didn’t work, I don’t know. Anyway, she said that every nine years nine children are born with special powers within 9m³ of each other. One of the nine started seeing a doctor. Now the girl researched her birth and it took 24 hours. She was sure there were more out there – a nine, that’s what I call them; always have a feeling when they meet another nine. She got the doctor to phone around hospitals to find any extraordinary long births.
They managed to find nine; they all got together once a week. The doctor came to give them updates on any research he had found about them.
Now it turned out the doctor came across another nine, from the previous nine years. She had a book, which a nine wrote about 20 years ago about these special powers.
“She realized there was a pattern (nine every nine years within 9m³). And also it only happened to mothers who were in their mid thirties. The mothers were not special, but had a feeling the baby was different. If one of the nine was pregnant the baby would not inherit powers. But if one of the nine was pregnant and at one point in the pregnancy all nine met up, they acquired a special force to change the baby to have special powers. I think because there is so much special influence around them.
“But the nines were in trouble. The nine were designed to be compatible with each other. That means one of the nine cannot use their powers on the other nine, it doesn’t work. Also the nine were not supposed to meet up, if they did they were destined for short life expectancy, deformed children (we soon found out it was special powers) and everybody who knew about the powers would be killed at middle age. The nines thought it was like a curse to keep them away from each other. The more they met up the stronger their powers. So to prevent the curse they gave their babies up for adoption when born (the six which became pregnant during the three years of meeting) and promised never to see each other again.” He paused. I notice he had stopped picking.
Don’t you get it? – you’re special –she doesn’t believe me.
Deary me, he’s the one that belongs here.
“That’s a nice fairy tale”
“It’s not a-”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You’re adopted”
Pause.
“How did you know?”
“I’m guessing”
So it is true – thought the name was mixed up.
“How did you find out?” I asked.
“What makes you think I found out?”
She can spot a lie – special ability? [/I]
“It’s not…” I muttered.
Wow – not what I think it is
“Shut up”
“You knew what I was thinking…” His eyes widened.
“No I never”
“You can hear my thoughts,”
“I can’t! I can’t hear anything”
Like I was going to tell him anything. He thinks I’m flipping psychic. When I’m mad.
“Then why did you say shut up? It wasn’t to me, you muttered it. And you’ve been answering me and it matched what I was thinking”
He had a point.
“Coincidence” My mind was racing for excuses.
“Then,” He leaned over, his skin was so smooth, he looked dead. Maybe he was, and I can see dead people.
“How come you’re here?” This was the first time I’d seen him smile. It was a toothy grin, an evil one, but very dazzling. And his eyes shone.
Pause.
He had a point.
I cracked it!
You cracked nothing ignorant fool. The things I’ve been muttering are the answers to people that talk in my head, some sound like you, others sound like others. Yes, and you said wasn’t crazy?
He opened his backpack and shoved something into my hand. It was sunglasses.
“Fight it.”
“Fight what?”
“Fight the mind reading; put these on, it probably has something to do with your eyes. You’re scared, you think you’re crazy. I got some news! You’re not!”
Great. I’m going to be hearing voices the rest of my life with help like that.
“Try ignoring it and it will die down, and hopefully you can use it when you want in a while….I got to go, bye”
And he did something unusual. He squeezed my hand and gave me a brief hug with his long spidery hands around my back.
That was the first contact I had had in ages.
“We have to stick together
We made it through bad weather
We’ll fight it forever”
That was another song which suited my situation.
I think at first I denied my psychic ability because it was worse than being “mentally ill”. If I did have a special ability that meant I’d be hearing voices for the rest of my life, but if I was just “mentally ill” then I would be cured.
I was really starting to feel dazed about me and Matt’s conversation. I started to get used to the loons. I stopped giving them derogatory names and began to call them by their names and referring to them as “mentally ill”.
Think I only started to do that when I subconsciously accepted my existence on this earth. I never realised I had actually accepted it, when I found myself ignoring the thoughts. After a month the emotion that came together with the thoughts was only inside and not visible and after a few months the thoughts completely went away. I was half happy and half depressed, I wanted them back, that meant I had to go back to school and face the whispers, and the mind reading had come in handy sometimes – especially when I knew exactly what the doctor wanted to hear.
I managed to get it back when I had a staring competition with a girl called Ruth, she had some problem – after a while I stopped caring what was the matter with them – and she always wanted staring contests. During the 5 seconds staring contest I heard her thoughts (she’s not like the rest of us– daddy chucked her in – she’s really good). It was then (well after I tried on the others) I realised I had managed to completely control my power and only use it with intense eye contact. How fabulous.
“Yes…”
Silence.
What do I say? – need to tell her – not crazy – special powers.
Urgency made my knuckles go white.
He began to pick at the bobbling in his discolored blue jumper.
“Sellotape gets rid of bobbling” that’s all I could think of.
“I haven’t come here to ask for housewife tips” he whispered. His stunning brown eyes darted around the room. It was virtually empty now.
“Why have you come to visit?”
“To…to tell you you’re not crazy and-”
I got up.
“Thank you for the support but the only way I can “not be crazy” is to go to my doctor’s-”
“You don’t know me…but I was there – I was there – when you- you broke down. You were dizzy and you were stumbling…” His voice trailed off. He began to pick at his jumper again. Pick. Pick. Pick.
“You remember?”
How can I forget?
“And you’re not crazy…I have a theory…”
Pick.
Need a new jumper – why do I do this when I’m nervous?
“What theory would that be?”
“My auntie…she used to be, different like you,”
Great another loon. That’s probably why he came to visit. So he can be in the company of his kind.
She won’t believe me.
“Try me” I muttered.
“What?”
Pick.
“Nothing…”
[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium Just hurry up and say it – she might[/FONT]
“I’ll tell you a story.”
Pick.
“Go ahead.”
“My auntie…she can levitate things-”
“Have you seen her do it?”
Pick.
“Yes,” He said slightly exasperated.
Just say it
“Okay, let me talk. I’ll answer your questions on the way hopefully,”
Pick.
“She can levitate things, move things – but only when they’re at least 15cm offs the ground. It’s cool, she does it with her hands – but she uses like hand gestures to move things. Well she used to, she’s dead now. She was burgled, she got in the way”
Miss her – must do this for her – must find the nine.
Grief and urgency spread over my body bringing a tear to my eye and white to my knuckles. Matt gave me a questioning look and I ignored it.
“Couldn’t she just move things to stop them killing her?”
“No…somehow that didn’t work, I don’t know. Anyway, she said that every nine years nine children are born with special powers within 9m³ of each other. One of the nine started seeing a doctor. Now the girl researched her birth and it took 24 hours. She was sure there were more out there – a nine, that’s what I call them; always have a feeling when they meet another nine. She got the doctor to phone around hospitals to find any extraordinary long births.
They managed to find nine; they all got together once a week. The doctor came to give them updates on any research he had found about them.
Now it turned out the doctor came across another nine, from the previous nine years. She had a book, which a nine wrote about 20 years ago about these special powers.
“She realized there was a pattern (nine every nine years within 9m³). And also it only happened to mothers who were in their mid thirties. The mothers were not special, but had a feeling the baby was different. If one of the nine was pregnant the baby would not inherit powers. But if one of the nine was pregnant and at one point in the pregnancy all nine met up, they acquired a special force to change the baby to have special powers. I think because there is so much special influence around them.
“But the nines were in trouble. The nine were designed to be compatible with each other. That means one of the nine cannot use their powers on the other nine, it doesn’t work. Also the nine were not supposed to meet up, if they did they were destined for short life expectancy, deformed children (we soon found out it was special powers) and everybody who knew about the powers would be killed at middle age. The nines thought it was like a curse to keep them away from each other. The more they met up the stronger their powers. So to prevent the curse they gave their babies up for adoption when born (the six which became pregnant during the three years of meeting) and promised never to see each other again.” He paused. I notice he had stopped picking.
Don’t you get it? – you’re special –she doesn’t believe me.
Deary me, he’s the one that belongs here.
“That’s a nice fairy tale”
“It’s not a-”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You’re adopted”
Pause.
“How did you know?”
“I’m guessing”
So it is true – thought the name was mixed up.
“How did you find out?” I asked.
“What makes you think I found out?”
She can spot a lie – special ability? [/I]
“It’s not…” I muttered.
Wow – not what I think it is
“Shut up”
“You knew what I was thinking…” His eyes widened.
“No I never”
“You can hear my thoughts,”
“I can’t! I can’t hear anything”
Like I was going to tell him anything. He thinks I’m flipping psychic. When I’m mad.
“Then why did you say shut up? It wasn’t to me, you muttered it. And you’ve been answering me and it matched what I was thinking”
He had a point.
“Coincidence” My mind was racing for excuses.
“Then,” He leaned over, his skin was so smooth, he looked dead. Maybe he was, and I can see dead people.
“How come you’re here?” This was the first time I’d seen him smile. It was a toothy grin, an evil one, but very dazzling. And his eyes shone.
Pause.
He had a point.
I cracked it!
You cracked nothing ignorant fool. The things I’ve been muttering are the answers to people that talk in my head, some sound like you, others sound like others. Yes, and you said wasn’t crazy?
He opened his backpack and shoved something into my hand. It was sunglasses.
“Fight it.”
“Fight what?”
“Fight the mind reading; put these on, it probably has something to do with your eyes. You’re scared, you think you’re crazy. I got some news! You’re not!”
Great. I’m going to be hearing voices the rest of my life with help like that.
“Try ignoring it and it will die down, and hopefully you can use it when you want in a while….I got to go, bye”
And he did something unusual. He squeezed my hand and gave me a brief hug with his long spidery hands around my back.
That was the first contact I had had in ages.
“We have to stick together
We made it through bad weather
We’ll fight it forever”
That was another song which suited my situation.
I think at first I denied my psychic ability because it was worse than being “mentally ill”. If I did have a special ability that meant I’d be hearing voices for the rest of my life, but if I was just “mentally ill” then I would be cured.
I was really starting to feel dazed about me and Matt’s conversation. I started to get used to the loons. I stopped giving them derogatory names and began to call them by their names and referring to them as “mentally ill”.
Think I only started to do that when I subconsciously accepted my existence on this earth. I never realised I had actually accepted it, when I found myself ignoring the thoughts. After a month the emotion that came together with the thoughts was only inside and not visible and after a few months the thoughts completely went away. I was half happy and half depressed, I wanted them back, that meant I had to go back to school and face the whispers, and the mind reading had come in handy sometimes – especially when I knew exactly what the doctor wanted to hear.
I managed to get it back when I had a staring competition with a girl called Ruth, she had some problem – after a while I stopped caring what was the matter with them – and she always wanted staring contests. During the 5 seconds staring contest I heard her thoughts (she’s not like the rest of us– daddy chucked her in – she’s really good). It was then (well after I tried on the others) I realised I had managed to completely control my power and only use it with intense eye contact. How fabulous.