Pause Part 2

He saw four women circling the cauldron, garbed in many lightweight clothes in a variety of dark colours. Their hair was wild and striking, with strange highlights at random spots. Their skin was the colour of hazelnut and nutmeg and they were hollow and thin. They had face paint on, markings all over their body in a variety of forms. They had smeared dark eye shadow, and all carried sceptres that Sam hoped were made out of wood, rather than the ivory colour that Sam could make out in the faint light. Sam brought his attention to the canines at the women’s feet, muzzled but their hackles rose. They still growled menacingly at the women, who seemed to take no notice. They continued chanting, the words were out of Sam’s reach. They all dropped their sceptres and joined their hands; suddenly the cavern went dead silent. They started to spin around the cauldron, before a sudden wind gathered and spun with them. Ominous chanting abruptly filled the room, but the words were still too faint for him to hear. He simply watched with something that could have been awe or repulsion. He wrinkled his nose and stared as the wind surrounding the cauldron took a more definite shape.

The wind suddenly became translucent, like mist. It kept spinning, before it was opaque and it screeched to halt, and it was then that Sam finally saw it for what it was, a misty winged serpent, with a dragon head, serpentine body and eagle wings and talons. When it opened its maw, Sam saw that it had no teeth, only two incising teeth that could be expertly hid in the upper reaches of its mouth. It looked down at the four women, before speaking, its voice seemed hollow and Sam shuddered when he heard it, it sounded like heavy raspy breathing, but a kitten purr at the same time.

“My servants of long ago...You have done well, but not well enough. My power, although there, has not been restored. My spirit is free, but my body is not here. Is there any reason for this?”

One of the women, stepped free of their makeshift circle and said nervously,

“We were unable to obtain your powers due to our inability to leave this cavern...Your body is still being held, however, by your brother.”

The dragon snorted indignantly, but he seemed to understand that there was nothing that he or the women could have done. The dogs at the women’s feet whined, scurrying as far away from the dragon as they could. He turned his attention to them and then gave the women a look.

“Are these the sacrifices that you intended to use?”

The women bustled together as another spoke.

“Our diminished power only allowed us small things.”

The dragon considered. “Then I can assume that you are unable to find the proper ingredients for my power?”

The women shuffled nervously as yet another spoke. “Yes, but we also bring good news.” A sudden wildness sparked in her eyes. “Your servant has brought one into the world with the Sight. They have lived thrice and tenfold. Unfortunately,” The woman couldn’t meet the dragon’s eye, “Your servant could not locate the breeder and your brother killed your servant.”

Again, the dragon snorted. “Typical...No matter. I will retrieve the Sight myself. Prepare yourselves. I will split my soul so that I may take a physical form.” The dragon’s eyes scanned the cavern, and Sam felt them rest on him. He backed up and prepared to bolt as the dragon said, “It appears that we have an intruder in our midst.”

The women turned to Sam’s direction. “I can sense him, but his form is merely like your own...”

The dragon nodded. “Of course he would be. He is here, but he is not actually here and is here more so than I.”

The women frowned, not actually making sense of it, but accepting it. “Should we capture him?”

“There is no need to try. He cannot be located in this state. But I do suppose that I should get rid of him before we continue.” With that, he started to glide towards Sam, who had already started to run out of the cavern. He barely took notice of the route he was taking; he was focused on pleading his conscious to get him out of here. Unfortunately, his conscious was as silent as a stone. It wasn’t long before he skidded into the wrong tunnel and was met with a dead end. He looked at the looming stone wall in terror before he turned around to face the dragon. He backed up into the wall and simply closed his eyes, trying to summon the energy to send him back. Purple blots clouded mind’s eye, purple was a sure sign that his conscious was at work, but otherwise nothing.

“Having difficulty controlling your powers, boy? It seems to me that your conscious simply has a mind of its own...”

Sam opened his eyes and simply stared. The dragon took no notice and continued musing. “Perhaps that will help you, since your conscious will link your thoughts to the visions you want to see, but I suppose that in this case that it’s trying to warn you.” The dragon met Sam’s eyes. “I suppose it’s good to know what you look like. You and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other; I don’t need the Sight to know that.” Sam felt his body leaving. His conscious was reacting. As he left, he met the dragon’s eye. The dragon smiled toothlessly and said almost cheerfully, “Farewell Sighted One. You and I will see each other soon enough.”



Sam gasped with an air of finality as he suddenly returned to his room. The kitchen shuddered at the force of his uncontrolled telekinesis, but he ignored it. He had bigger things to worry about. It was then that his hearing returned to him.

“Sam! Sam, are you alright?!”

Unintentionally, Sam jumped back and yelped. David did the same. They stared at each other for a long moment before they dropped their defences and David started to stutter. In a very quick vision, Sam had already seen him explaining, so he cut him off and said,

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine. I’m going to bed now.”

He turned swiftly on his heel and walked back into his room, trying hard to suppress his shaking. He closed the door softly with a touch of telekinesis; somehow he had managed to briefly control it. He sighed wistfully before he fell backwards onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. There was something oddly soothing about it, perhaps it was the fact that he was in his own room, in his own time and he was safe.

He doubted that the safety would last long, judging by the dragon’s last words. He decided to conclude that the Sight was likely the ability to see the future, and Sam couldn’t argue any longer with himself that he didn’t, he simply accepted that he could. Denying that would and could be fatal. But he was also faced with some uncertainty, since this time it also seemed that he teleported into the cavern, although not totally. But he could also say that he was simply developing other abilities beside precognition, even though he knew that it was nearly impossible to develop such abilities, unless they were present at birth, which Sam doubted. Either way, he made a mental note to ask his mom when he got home. For now, he would likely think it over during sleep, and then skip school tomorrow and then research precognition at the public library. He yawned, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.



Sam woke suddenly, roused by nightmares that had already left him. His eyes wandered over to his clock, where it read six thirty. Sighing, Sam got up and dressed, before he stole some money from McGinnis, about twenty dollars. He simply stole it because he was tired of eating Granola Bars, and he just honestly wanted an Egg McMuffin. He was gone from his apartment before the clock even hit six forty five.

McDonald’s was quiet when Sam walked in; there was only one solitary person at the counter, who seemed absorbed in their iPod. Sam didn’t hesitate to clear his throat to get their attention. They looked up suddenly, as if they were a deer caught in headlights. There were a few uncomfortable moments of silence. Sam cleared his throat and said,

“I’d like an Egg McMuffin please.”

The attendant nodded slowly and said miserably,

“Yeah I’ll give you that for free. Wait one moment.” He turned his back to Sam, who eyed the McDonald’s donation box, which was for the disabled. It took almost every ounce of Sam’s willpower and logic to prevent him from sticking his hand into the donation box and taking the money. Instead, he kept his hands folded behind his back while he waited for the attendant to finish grilling his Egg McMuffin. He spaced off and nearly jumped when the attendant finally handed him his Egg McMuffin. He thanked the attendant and then eyed his twenty dollar bill as he sat down on the curb and ate the burger, which was surprisingly bland, but much better than a Granola Bar. He ate quickly and then headed to the library. There wasn’t any time to lose.



Isabelle sighed as the hot stones were placed tenderly on her bare back, she could feel years of tension simply ebbing out of her. It was only ten, and she still had another day to go. She wished she had done this sooner. She broke for lunch, where she enjoyed a warm bowl of mushroom soup with Anne. Then, she went to her room for a shower, which was significantly nicer than her own room. But she expected that. She was about to turn on the shower knob when the phone rang. Half naked, she ran for the phone, half wondering who in the world would call her, deciding that it had to be David. She picked up the phone and said,

“Da—”

“Sam. Library. Quick question.”

She sighed. “Shoot.”

“When I was born, did I happen to show any telekinetic abilities?”

Isabelle sighed. “Jesus, Sam I don’t know. I was unconscious for the first three days. But afterwards...Not really. I mean, I do remember that the windows used to open and shut when you cried, which was fortunately never often. Any—”

“Yeah that’s fine. Thanks Mom.” Isabelle suddenly heard a thin shakiness in his voice, hidden carefully under a calm guise.

“Sam I need—”

“What about?” His voice seemed forced.

She sighed and said, “Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” His lie was as clear as day.

“Sam, don’t lie to me.” She said indignantly. “Tell me what’s wrong for once in your life.”

There was silence on the other side of the line before he said vigilantly,

“I have a...” He paused to either add effect or to make something up. “...A Science project. On neurology.”

She sighed and said, “Baloney. I was doing diffusion when I was your age.” She wondered why the word ‘neurology’ was coming up so frequently. Sam sighed in defeat and said darkly,

“Sure you can handle this?”

She bit her lip pensively and decided fruitlessly, “I can handle this. You handle it every day.”

Sam chuckled a little and then became suddenly serious. “I had a vision last night. Okay, I’ll be honest; I lied to you the other day about how I know things. I’m pretty sure at this point that I can see the future. Anyway, moving on. It was much different than what I’m used to. Usually I get pictures and sounds that come at me suddenly and informatively. Yesterday, I was sort of...I don’t know, teleported somewhere through my conscious. I was physically involved in the future, and although I was there, I wasn’t completely there. It’s a weird concept. And I wasn’t given any revelations, or anything. And I could get hurt and could feel everything. Except after I came back, I didn’t have any injuries or anything. I know I’m not explaining it well but...” There was a slip in Sam’s usually calm demeanour as his voice shook with undeniable panic. The panic spread to Isabelle quickly although she concealed it by gripping the post on her bed. As quickly as her tensions left her, they came back, like a tsunami crashing down upon her. She couldn’t move. She only barely managed to croak,

“We’ll talk about it when I get home, okay? You need to focus on your work.” She narrowed her eyes and said dangerously, although it came out as a whimper, “Which I hope you’re working on. Exams are coming up fast.” The last bit she said regrettably.

Sam didn’t respond. Instead, he simply hung up.



After his conversation with his mom, Sam studied neurology like there was no tomorrow. Even though he saw revelations of him reading them, he decided to know the notes for himself, since it would help him know it better. He sat there for hours, reading in the corner where the librarian was less likely to see him and get the idea that he was skipping. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t of legal age and hadn’t graduated. He barely made any sense of the neurology notes, getting only the bare gist of the complex notes that were meant for someone with a higher degree of knowledge. Although Sam got straight A’s, he knew that he wasn’t smart. He had simply been cheating without intending to do so, his mind gave him the knowledge of the answer sheet while he was doing the test, and he simply made a few calculated mistakes so that it didn’t seem like he had cheated. Since it had been consistent, nobody had ever assumed he was cheating, although he knew that Miss Lynn would likely suspect something now that he had accidentally told her of the future.

Sam cursed at the thought. He knew that it would mess up both him and Fate badly, the least fatal thing that could happen was that someone could be eradicated from history, either Miss Lynn herself or somebody she told; worst case would be that 2012 did happen, but on a universal scale. He bit his lip. Only Fate could calm this mess, having Miss Lynn know that he actually could see the future would bring about the definite end of the world. If anything, he would only make it worse. He had two days to do something about it, but he doubted he would. More than anything, he wanted to control his conscious. Almost thirteen years and yet he could barely direct it with his thoughts, there would soon be a point where he wouldn’t be able to control it at all and it would be teleporting him left, right and center.

And if he wasn’t careful, someone else could easily track him down and use his powers, judging by the dragon’s words, and they likely had a better understanding of it than he did. All of this sudden likelihood of a threat made Sam click his tongue and close the book. He had had enough. He walked with his head down as he wandered the streets. He stopped suddenly to check the time, two thirty. He had been at the library for eight and a half hours. He chuckled to himself, all that time and he still had no idea about neurology or anything. He stood still, suddenly becoming aware of his helplessness. He could see things, but there wasn’t a damned thing that he could do. He couldn’t fight. He could only talk himself out of situations, and even still, he barely won. And he very much doubted that his enemies, whatever they were, would listen or hesitate while he was talking. If he needed anything right now, it was self defence.



It was a cold May. The wind blew chillingly but soothingly. It was a rare occasion for someone who lived near the sea to get such a nice breeze. The clouds blotted out the sun, which left the small town in shades of slate gray. It may have not looked welcoming, but Peggy’s Cove had attracted enough tourists to keep it going, even with the only attraction being the hills of rock that were splashed playfully with sea foam. Despite the gloomy atmosphere that Peggy’s Cove portrayed with the lack of sun, it was lively and heartfelt during the dead times, children spurred from everywhere and bounced along the rocks, carefully monitored by cautious parents. Their screams of delight often filled the empty air.

Merilee wrapped her fleece jacket tighter around her. It was nearly summer and she was still struggling for warmth. Everyone else was in light sweaters and cotton clothes, while she still wore her polarized fleece jacket, warm fuzzy boots, tight sky blue jeans and two cotton shirts pulled over her light polyester shirt. And of course, she was still cold. She thought of wearing gloves, but her fingerless gloves gave her more of an edge. Her dirty brown hair was held back slightly by two clips that kept her long hair out of her eyes, which led to a better view of her face. Her mother had always told her not to hide behind her hair. Her face had a fair, pale complexion and was round and sharp at the chin; freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, and she had a slender figure. Her hair fell down her back in faint curls. She had sharp brown eyes and wore mascara to make them stand out. She trudged begrudgingly to the top of the hill, and looked out to the rest of Peggy’s Cove. She had lived here most of her life; the first four years had been spent in Halifax. She hardly remembered it; she simply remembered that it was much more lively than her little town could ever hope to be. They had moved here for her dad, he couldn’t find any more inspiration in Halifax anymore. They had moved for a change. Merilee loved it here, but her mother had always been hesitant. “There’s something odd about this town”, was her favourite saying. Merilee respected that, her mother had been born in Edmonton, moved to Calgary and then to Halifax. She was a big city girl, and Merilee knew that she had inherited her dad’s love of seawater and dislike for the small spaces of a big city. When they visited her grandmother, Flora, they went to Toronto. Merilee loved her grandmother, but Toronto was too big and loud to cope. When they had toured around the city, Merilee told her mother to drop her off at a park, where she sat for hours on her own, simply enjoying the sounds of birds against the sound of her iPod.

She snapped to attention when she saw the horribly contrasting yellow bus finally roll into Peggy’s Cove. It only made one stop, if you missed then you would have to walk an hour to get to school, unless your parents were fortunate to have a car. As the bus was about to pull to a halt, a knot of kids rushed up the hill, some younger and some older, but none her age. No one in Peggy’s Cove was her age, but Merilee didn’t let that bother her. She had plenty of friends at school and many of the kids in her town liked her. She blushed at the thought. Finally, the bus stopped and she got on, heading straight to the back. She sat down in relief and sighed, rubbing her arms. She really shouldn’t have tried to control that this early in the morning. Her arms ached and felt like rubber. She was about to pull out her iPod, but the kids swarmed in around her and started asking questions all at once.

“Did it work?”

“Are you sure that we shouldn’t tell the parents?”

“What does do?

“Can you do it now?”

She raised a hand, and was greeted with thankful silence. She smiled warmly and said,

“Yeah I tried this morning. It worked, but...”

“Could you show us Merilee?”

The question came in unison. Merilee couldn’t ignore that. Not when they were all looking at her innocently and intently. She nodded and said,

“But mum’s the word. Not a word to anyone at school.”

The kids nodded solemnly. She sighed and stretched out her hands, palms forward. She focused her sight into the small space where her index fingers stood parallel. Finally able to concentrate, she pushed her brain, separating its essence from the brain itself. Merilee wasn’t sure how she did it, it had happened on accident once before, about a month ago and had blown a clear hole through a steel trap door and obliterated anything beyond that for twenty feet, and luckily everyone had the sense to replace the door. Now all the kids were pestering her to do it again, which led her to practice whenever she could. Finally, she could duplicate that act, although to a lesser degree. Although earlier...

Her thought was interrupted when a small blue orb of light appeared at her index fingers. She almost gasped, but she knew that the slightest slip of concentration would either send the orb hurling through the bus, or fizzle out. She bit her lip and allowed her essence to emanate for more power. Yet another cool trick that she could do. Some of the kids gasped when she did it, but that didn’t slip her concentration. She gritted her teeth and the orb seemed to hum, quietly at first. It seemed to spin, the pitch increased the faster it went. Soon, the sound was unbearable. Merilee cried out, suddenly realizing the danger of the situation and tried to absorb the orb back in, but the orb had a mind of its own now. Barely thinking, Merilee thrust her hands upwards, the exact time that the orb screamed from her fingers. It ploughed through firm steel as though it was paper and shot off into the sky and disappeared from view.

The sound hit Merilee then. It was like a sonic blast; it roared and knocked Merilee back off her seat and rattled the bus. A scream still rung high in her ears and the air still roared with the ferocity of a jet plane. The scream held high in the air, before it finally petered out. Merilee was positive that all ears and eyes were on that screaming orb, she wouldn’t have been surprised if National TV came to their small town in search for whoever could create that brilliant orb. They would likely think that it was a weapon of mass destruction, and then their home would become a military base and the entire town would be held there. Merilee quivered as these thoughts entered her head and panic slowly overcame her. She couldn’t stay here. Not with such power quivering at her fingertips. And it wouldn’t take long for someone to squeal, and then she would be researched and used. She couldn’t allow that. Numb with fear, she shakily stood up and sat back down, clasping her hands tightly. She looked down and didn’t speak, even though her friends were looking at her, pleading her to do so. She had such a terrible power that she couldn’t quite control.

She was knocked out of her thoughts when they arrived at school. All of the kids gave her a forlorn look before scurrying off the bus. After a few moments of hesitation, she followed them, keeping her head down. She did this until she nearly walked into someone, who glared at her. She decided that she couldn’t seem sullen, somebody would suspect something. So she put on a plastic smile and a cheery front, walking briskly to catch up with her friends, as if the accident on the bus had never happened. But she knew that it would be a long while before she saw her friends again.

When she finally arrived at the sullen gray house, she knew immediately that it was empty. The lack of lights and gloom told her that. She went in through the back door, feeling detached and like a criminal as she rummaged through the house, gathering three sets of clothes that she dearly loved. She stole her compass from its beloved position on a cross on top of the fireplace, stuffing it wearily into her bag. She took a map from her mother’s map collection, and then packed two bottles of water. She approached the jar of money that was disguised as a cookie jar on the counter, quickly taking out two hundred dollar bills and a bunch of twenties. She felt a pang of guilt as she placed the top back on the jar. Then, she quickly made some ham sandwiches for the road, stuffing them haphazardly into the bag. She took one long look around her home, and sighed. This was necessary, but that didn’t mean that she liked it. She slugged the bag over her shoulder and then went back out the way she came. She looked at the house with an air of finality, tears jabbing at her eyes, before she turned around and never looked back.



Sam closed the window softly behind him and sighed. Today, without a doubt, had been a waste of time. Looking up neurology hadn’t been smart, especially when he didn’t understand a word of it. His fist clenched as he was brought up to the painful reality that he was running out of time. Any day now, he was expecting someone phenomenal to happen, something that neither science, logic nor religion could explain, but it would be painfully clear to him. The dragon and his servants had broken out of their trench, whatever that was. Sam hoped it was far away.

It was then that he realized that he couldn’t have been alone. There were undoubtedly other people like him out there; he couldn’t have been the only one out of the estimated six billion. The odds were likely, but he couldn’t deny that he would probably never meet them, at least not for a while, the Sight told him that. Although he didn’t quite trust Fate, he hoped that the sentential being would eventually lead him to them, wherever they were.

The thought didn’t help, and Sam simply fell back into his bed, crumpled there as he tried to think, and he wasn’t sure what about. He knew that he needed to learn to control the Sight, but given his lack of information on how he could, he didn’t know if he could ever control it. The Sight seemed like a wild, untamed beast, trapped in his mind like a cage, and it seemed likely that it would let all hell loose if he unlocked its true potential. The problem was, if he tried to tame it, the Sight became mysteriously silent and inactive.

He bit his lip and sat up. If he focused, then maybe he could see it coming, and attempt to redirect it. He sat there and closed his eyes and watched the dark hues of his estranged mind.

There were no purple hues. Only shimmers of white, gray, orange, green and red, Sam had learned that those were his senses, sight, smell, touch, hearing and taste, respectively. He always saw them, so he ignored those and searched farther. For a moment, Sam saw only black, he learned that that was sleep or inactivity. Experimentally, he tapped his finger against his knee. Almost predictably, he didn’t feel it. He was quick to note that a shade of orange hadn’t appeared. Undoubtedly, this was his pre-conscious, his portal to the Sight and his mind. This was likely where he would have to go later when he wanted to learn how to control his Sight. For now, he decided to focus on redirecting it, which seemed a little easier than completely controlling the Sight.

There was a sudden flash of purple that sprinted across mind’s eye. Habit forced him to open his eyes, where he was met with a swirling mass that gathered on the white wall in front of him. It was dark and luminous and was spreading quickly. At its center, a white, opaque orb appeared, spinning silently. Sam recognized it instantly from the disk. Seeing it now, he studied it, there was much more to it now. There seemed to be some sort of glyph that covered it, although at first it only appeared to be an intricate design of lines that repeated themselves throughout the orb. The glyph was pure white whereas the orb was clear, Sam could even conclude that there wasn’t even an orb to begin with, the glyph could have easily gathered into a circular pattern, the reason Sam would likely never know.

He closed his eyes to see the same thing except the design seemed more intricate, with swirls and small balls of light that danced around it. And instead of being in the middle of a dark swirl, it seemed to be located in the middle of a vortex, dark gray and moving. The orb seemed to move with it, spinning until it became smaller and smaller. Like in all previous times that he had seen the future, his conscious rushed feverishly towards the orb that was quickly disappearing into the vortex. And then.

There was a moment that Sam caught between his conscious moving towards the orb. Where if he looked hard enough, he could see holes with snippets of movies, or future events, in the vortex. Sam had no control over his conscious, so he watched them as they zoomed by, hoping that his glare would redirect his conscious. But no avail. He watched helplessly as his conscious took him to the disk, and he ignored the vision of Mr. Doris, his English teacher, calling on him to summarize A Catcher in the Rye, and then a small summary of what he would and should say. He let out a slow breath of air as the world spun back to reality, and he was exactly where he was before, sitting on his bed staring at the wall. He sighed and was about to start again, but a tap on his window caused him to turn. Cornwall.

Cornwall was one of Sam’s closer friends, since he was in grade three, one of the first few that had looked up to Sam because he had combated their grade three teacher, Miss. Silverberg, who increasingly insisted that Cornwall was a legalized idiot and some students had agreed. Sam risked his grades and reputation for Cornwall, and Cornwall had been overcome with gratitude. He and Sam had been friends ever since. Cornwall, in his later years, had notably become dopier looking, his ears stuck out sideways, his eyes were large and seemed dim, he had a large stature, a foot taller than Sam who was just a little below average. His hands were the size of baseball mitts, but his legs were stocky and he couldn’t run without tripping over his feet. Their gym teacher often described him as, ‘Good in gym until he uses his feet.’ It was uncannily accurate. Cornwall was all for low riding shorts and over sized t-shirts, which was what he wore today. He had dirty blonde military trimmed hair, unlike Sam’s bushy russet hair that he beat down with a toque and a brush almost every morning. His eyes were dark brown, as if to contrast with his pastel white skin. Sam knew that he had a bunch of consol stations at home, but he wondered if Cornwall was ever outside except when Sam was with him.

Sighing, Sam jumped off his bed and opened the closed window; Cornwall couldn’t get his massive fingers under the window frame. He then held his hand to help Cornwall in and said out of courtesy,

“What’s up?”

“The world is up, brah. Miss Lynn was turning the school upside down looking for you. You missed the Spanish oral and Mr. Mezzo flipped his shit. Not that it matters, you’re top of the grade in both subjects, but I don’t recommend coming to school tomorrow, brah. They’ll pounce on you the second your foot touches school property.”

“Yo puedo hablar mejor que el viejo todos los días. No estoy preocupado.” Sam grinned, half heartedly. He was careful to answer Cornwall’s questions, so that Cornwall wasn’t hurt by the fact that he wasn’t really listening. “Besides,” He continued, English this time, “Miss Lynn doesn’t have anything to strangle me with, unless she really wants to meet with Ms Halvenblurster, who we all know doesn’t do shit.”

Cornwall grinned. “Going in for the taunt, brah?” He jumped onto Sam’s bed and said, “So what he did you do?”

Sam had already seen this conversation briefly, so he had prepared responses for all his questions. Now he was just spitting them out. He smiled tightly, and said with a hint of idleness, “Lazy. Had some assignment due and I couldn’t be bothered. So I stayed home and slept, basically.”

It was then that Cornwall’s phone rang. In a brief flash, Sam knew that it was his mom, who would scold him for not being home and then yell at him to get home. He looked at Cornwall and said quietly,

“She probably wants you home, you know. Didn’t you have those therapy sessions?” The ringtone went to his voicemail, where a similar message was conveyed through angry words.

Cornwall went pink. “H-how do you know about those?”

Sam cursed mentally. He wasn’t supposed to. He was supposed to find out later, the exact time he didn’t know. Fate would probably kill him for this later, although Sam hoped that a small deviation like this wouldn’t affect it too much. Thinking fast, Sam gave him a slight smile and then said,

“Hmm? I remember your mom mentioned it some time ago and you told me not to tell.”

Cornwall looked perplexed, and then relaxed, as if in thought. Finally he acknowledged,

“Oh yeah. I do remember that. I suppose I should go then. Later, Stone.”

Sam put on a false cheery front as he let Cornwall out through the door, before he collapsed onto the door the instant he heard Cornwall shuffle out the front door.

He was suddenly exhausted. His efforts to control his Sight were sapping him of the little strength he had, and talked Cornwall was tiring in its own right. He stifled a yawn and checked the time, barely four o’clock. He knew that he didn’t have any work to do, so he decided to nap. It couldn’t hurt.



David sighed as he closed up his suitcase and left the building. He had gotten to work early, a big mistake, and now he got to leave early. He glumly thought of the silent house as he walked the crowded streets, making a mental note not to ever volunteer to babysit again, not if it was going to be this quiet. He felt a feeling of dread as he approached the quiet house. This was the last night, he told himself. Then, tomorrow night, he could be back in his own apartment, with the music blasting and the TV blaring. He’d take everything he had for granted. But for now, he’d put up with Sam and get through the last night. He called into a silent house, Sam’s door was closed and the apartment was dark, besides a stream of light coming from the kitchen window that engulfed the entire apartment in a dull gloom. He sighed and then sank into the coach. The haze and the heaviness in his eyes lulled him, and before long, he fell asleep.



He woke up suddenly. The room was filled with a distinct smell, as well as a strange gloom. Like the lights had been covered with red translucent plastic. David wrinkled his nose. The room smelt like sulphur. He looked out the window, where the sky was an eerie red. The streets were bare, not even a car. David shuddered. Something was very, very wrong. He spun on his heel and then flung open the door to Sam’s room; that was empty as well. But the room looked as if there had been a struggle of some sort; there were tears in the mattress and pillow, feathers everywhere. Besides that, the room was ominously bare. David felt his chest tighten, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Panic started to fill his lungs, spreading faster than he could talk himself out of it. His breathing became laboured, as if the air surrounding him had become salt. Desperate, David ran out into the main room, where he started to question his sanity. The entire room was distorted, slowly turning a deep red while seemingly melting into the ground. Insanely, the world seemed to spin outside the apartment, twisting in a way that David could neither understand nor follow. And then suddenly, black.



Again, he woke up, shaking violently. He looked around; the apartment was back to normal. The sky was blue and he could hear the sounds of the city through Sam’s now open door and window. Still not trusting himself, he pinched himself to make sure that he felt the pain. When he felt a dull throb from his shoulder, he finally trusted himself to stand up and not have the world flip out on him. The silence returned to the apartment then. He felt somewhat awkward simply standing there, so he sat back down and eyed the apartment, but more specifically, examined it. There had to be something wrong with the apartment, something supernatural, he couldn’t just accept that he was losing his sanity by house-sitting. He went into Isabelle’s room and sat on the bed for awhile. The room was bare; it was painted light lavender that was peeling, with a small dresser facing the wall with a tiny mirror. On the wall next to that, there was a room to the bathroom, which was light blue in all, with a small shower, but no bath, and it was lit by a tiny fluorescent light. He faced the tiny square window, which looked out onto the street. There was only a small lamp in the bedroom; David guessed that Isabelle’s room got most of its light from that window. After sitting there uncomfortably for a few minutes, he left the room and sat on the sofa in the main room, serving as a kitchen, living room and a small pantry all in one. The soft hum of the fridge was the only sound in the room. He looked around uneasily; the room seemed to give off a different feeling than Isabelle’s, which seemed to be pure. Although he felt uncomfortable because he was sitting on a friend’s bed. This room however, seemed to glare at him, if that were even possible. He sensed that he wasn’t welcome, even though he was supposedly the only person in the room. It wasn’t that anything was happening to him, but he could...Feel it. It crawled across his skin and gave him small shivers, even though he was wearing a thick sweater. That was the only way he could describe it, and he decided to move onto Sam’s room after another few uncomfortable moments. Sam’s room, like Isabelle’s, was bare. It was a very light shade of blue, a shade lighter than the sky. It only had his bed that was placed placidly in the middle of the wall, with a small dresser beside it that had a small lamp. There was a closet that was opposite of the window that led into the alleyway. Otherwise, the room was bare like Isabelle’s, although David sensed something ominous, like the room itself was hiding something menacing behind its paper thin walls.