I’m not really sure when they’d started or why. Seeing things. The visions I mean. When I was younger I hadn’t really understood that what I was seeing or feeling wasn’t normal. That it wasn’t just some really vivid day dreams and that what I was seeing really did happen. They’d been harmless…silly almost. At the time….
But all of that changed real soon. I remember when I was six years old and id had one of my ‘’day dreams’’ as id called them.
My grandmother had come over for Christmas. She had long silver hair and the bluest eyes id ever seen and she always smelled like lavender and lemons. Looking at her you think she was young. Younger then she actually was. She was so joyful and full of life. ..
Everyone had already finished eating but all the adult were still sitting at the small dining table talking and reminiscing about things a six year old cared less about. Grace stayed for a while until it almost got dark. She had a long drive, so mom had insisted for her to stay over and then leave in the morning but she refused. We were standing at the door and mom and dad were saying their goodbyes to her
When it was my turn she bent her knees so she was eye to eye with me. She gave me a smile.
I was sad that she was leaving.
‘’Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon’’ She said but I didn’t feel like she was coming back. She leaned in and gave me a hug.
And that was all it had taken. Just one touch. I’d seen everything in flashes. The darkness surrounding the long round, her headlights cutting a path in front of her. Then all of a sudden her car was sliding out of control, swerving and spinning. The look of her frightened face and her eyes filled with panic as she tried to take control of the wheel….I’d seen all of it. And then in a blink of an eye the horrible scene went away, but not that feeling of sadness and fear. Id begged her to stay screaming, tears running down my face. My parent’s hadn’t understood my behavior; they hadn’t understood why I was so scared. They tried calming me, but it wouldn’t work. I wanted them to understand that she couldn’t leave. I tried to explain to them but how could a five year old explain something so horrible? Even if I could’ve explained would they even have believed me?
In the end Grace had left, but not after promising my mother that she’d call her when she got home the next day. As she put me to bed my mother told me that nothing was going to happen to grandma Grace. She told me that everything would be fine and that I’d get to talk to her tomorrow evening.
It was obvious she didn’t believe me. How could you believe a six year old when it came to something like that? Id stayed awake the whole night the images never leaving my mind. The next day Grace didn’t call. She didn’t all the day after that or the day after that or the day after that. She didn’t answer the phone either. At the the funeral mom had been hysterical; crying , her hair falling out of her bun and her mascara running down her cheeks. Dad had been able to hide his pain a little better. We were all wearing black. It was Saturday. Mom had explained to be that Grace had gotten into an accident and that shed passed away. She was trying to explain to be in the gentlest way possible. But I’d known.
Grandma Grace was dead. She died the day shed walked out of our front door. I’d seen it with my own eyes. She was never coming back.
That was the first time I’d ever seen someone die. You see since then death was something I knew pretty well. Now it wasn’t just Grace…it was everyone. As I got older I no longer needed to touch people to see.