Story idea about a telepath who can only hear the thoughts of the 'more-than-human'.
| I watched two guys at the end of the bar. They had their heads bowed and were whispering, sneaking furtive glances in my direction. I sighed. They weren’t admirers, of that I was sure. More likely, they were talking about the “crazy girl” and deciding whether they should approach me or not, see what all the fuss was about. I may not be able to read human’s minds, but body language says a lot, and I know my reputation.|
I downed my shot and scanned the bar, opening my mind to the thoughts around me. This was always a risky endeavor, and it had taken me years of practice to control the influx of consciousness. As I said, I can’t read the minds of humans, but there are plenty of other beings to keep me sated. Growing up was scary, let me tell you. Imagine being five years old and able to hear the thoughts of some “humans”, but not others, and only at certain times. Now imagine being five years old, alone in bed, in the dark, hearing strange, sometimes frightening, thoughts – that didn’t have a body attached. I didn’t understand the rules or limits of my ability. In fact, I didn’t figure out it was an ability at all until I was fifteen or sixteen. Now, at twenty-two, I’ve finally started to get the hang of it.
Emotions and words and images began to flow into my head, like a leak in a boat that starts out as a trickle and quickly turns into a flood. Oops, too much, I thought. I started to clamp down on the brains around me and reduced the flow to a steady, tolerable stream. I felt better almost instantly. It was as though I were in the middle of a very satisfying Thanksgiving dinner. The gnawing in my belly grew dimmer and I breathed a sigh of relief as the throbbing of my temples eased.
I loved this bar. It was the most popular one in town – to be honest, it was one of two bars here, so being more popular wasn’t a great feat. Supernaturals frequented this place, due to the high volume of barely controlled emotion and easy, sleaziness of all the drunk humans.
From the corner of my eye I saw the two guys get up and I knew they had decided to take the risk and come talk to me. I was glad that I couldn’t know what they were thinking. I felt it probably wouldn’t be good for my self-esteem.
This is the beginning of a story idea. I'm not sure where this is going to go from here. I'm writing it right now, so I'll update this as I write more. I would like reviews on what I have posted, as well as any ideas for the story itself - for instance, what conflicts could you see/would you like to see arise? What should her name be? (I'm still picking one.) How did she get this ability? Do you think she could be something other than human, as well? If so, what? (I will say, if she isn't a human, she has no idea yet.) What do you think would be different about a supernatural creature's mind compared to our own?
Also, when I say 'supernatural creature', I'm talking anything not proven by science: vampires, werewolves, faeries, ghosts, demons, spirits. The demons, ghosts and anything else that is believed to "occupy" a separate plane or realm from our own would be the "disembodied voices" she refers to.
Just any ideas you have to help me make this a great story would be awesome. I'm very excited to run with this plot (or really, character, I guess, since I don't have much in the way of a plot so far).