Hello all, it’s been a while…
…yes, I haven’t posted for a while…
…I realise you don’t care, I was just saying!…
Anyway, enough self pity, I have returned with…Yep! you guessed it, a Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge!
This week we had to create a character with a Psychic power. I visited the trusted Random Generator for my designated number, and came up with Mediumship. I hope I did something that could be classified as such. Well, I’ll let you judge, here is:
A silver heart-shaped locket sits in the palm of her hand. Jenni returns her gaze to the window; the expanse of orange dust is endless but for the horizon. The movement of the bus lulls her; good she thinks; it’s easier when I’m relaxed. Jenni stares at the empty seat opposite, closes her hand tight round the locket; her eyes lose focus, air rushes past her ears, she feels herself being pulled from the very pit of her stomach at a hundred miles per hour until, stop. All around her is hazy, like she’s looking outside of a neglected fish tank, all murky water and indefinable debris. She feels less sick than usual, she’s adapting to the process, and every time she travels to the white mist it gets a little easier. Jenni can see someone approaching; the silhouette darkens as it nears. Jenni waits patiently, filled with unease; she hasn’t managed to get comfortable with this part yet. The hazy, murky water ripples as the silhouette emerges; it’s a girl, around twelve, her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun, her green eyes shimmer like emeralds, contrasting against her freckled pale skin, and her red dress only heightens how pasty she is, no, was.
“Hello Medium” replies the girl
Jenni frowns “It’s Jenni” she says. After several seconds of silence, Jenni fills the void “how can I help you Britney?”
“You can’t help me” she says “but I can help you”
“But, I’m here to help you make peace” Jenni replies “so you can cross over”
Britney shakes her head with the conviction of a child “I am one of many, and will not be the last” she says “unless you can stop them”
Jenni is stuck for words, this is new, she has only ever helped with trivial matters; helping old lady’s pass on heirlooms, making peace with siblings and such. “But” she searches for words, still trying to understand what is being asked of her. “I’m not the police” is the best she can do. “No, the police have found no one responsible for me or the others” Britney speaks with the sweet voice of a twelve year old, but with the cold delivery of a courtroom lawyer. “I just came across your locket in a toilet at the bus station” Jenni protests “I don’t even know what happened to you.” Britney looks at Jenni, her eyes full of understanding, and condescension. “You were drawn to it” Britney says “you searched high and low until you found it behind a toilet in the men’s room” Jenni’s shoulders slump with defeat. Britney stares at her through her deep emerald eyes “Here” she says. Jenni watches her approach. “Hold out your hand” Jenni ignores the apprehension and extends her hand. Britney’s pale white hand slips into her palm. The coldness of her skin only shocks for a minute and then; the sun is warm and bright, she’s happy, filled with the joy of children, she lay in the fresh mowed grass, amongst the dandelions, enjoying the clouds; they look like candy floss, and puppies, kittens and teddy bears, she giggles. A man peers over her; his face is undistinguishable, due to the brightness of the sun. She feels worried, but his kind words put her at ease, she giggles; suddenly the warmth of the sun has gone, and the feeling of joy with it. Anxiety floods upward, seeming to drown her from the inside. She is scared, it’s dark, the fear grows with the darkness; and then slight respite as light creeps in, the sun seeps through a vertical line. A voice is heard, it sounds authorial and protective. The voice that seemed so kind in the filled replies; she can now hear the sinister tone, like the hot breath of the wolf from beneath his woolly jumper. She hears the voice from the light reply, and she catches two words “Trevor Dallas” then the light recedes slowly. And with the darkness comes the fear. Then there is pain, lots of pain, in place’s she had not known. She cries until she is dehydrated, and then, after what seems like months of pain in the space of a second; the darkness becomes the mist. Jenni pants for breath, feeling as though her nerves have been run through a ringer. Her knees shake, and her head is full of helium. She stares at the girl; Jenni had guessed her to have been twelve, but now she knows the truth. Britney Andrews: 9 years of age, deceased. “Okay” Jenni says after re-gathering herself “I’ll help.”
“Excuse me, miss” Jenni looks round startled; a flash of white teeth, blue eyes, stubble frames his face, making him look mature, but not in the “you’re not over the hill, you’re mature” sense, more Debonair than Fred Astaire. Jenni looks to the seat opposite her, stares hard at its tie-dye pattern and then turns back to the stranger; still brandishing his pearly whites “Yes?”
“Is this seat taken?” he asks gesturing to the seat beside her which is clearly devoid of occupancy. Jenni shrugs, and follows it with a shake of her head. Confused by her response, the stranger takes the seat and says “Thanks”
Jenni stares out of the window, what seemed to be a vivid orange before, could now be considered aged brown at best. She could see the sun straddling the horizon, and felt slightly apprehensive of the coming darkness.
“It’s a long journey we got”
Jenni turns to the man beside her, mustering her most disdainful look. He raises his hands like she’s the police and says “Hey, I’m just saying it’d be much shorter if we knew each other’s names” Jenni had been hit on since she was thirteen, due to her mother’s generous genes she’d learned to deal with men who pegged her for older than she was; ignore them. She turned back to the window, hoping he’d get the message.
“Well, even if you won’t tell me yours, I refuse to be un-gentlemanly”
The sun had finally succumbed to the earth’s rotation, and Jenni could make out the man in the window, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. “I’m Dallas” he says “Trevor Dallas”