Chapter one-entry 4

Posted: August 3, 2012 in fiction, YA, YA novels, YA paranormal romance
Tags: , , , , , ,

I hoped that after not having any visions for last three years I had finally grown out of them, hoping it was just a childhood phase or something.

Once, I looked up my symptoms on-line.  The best I could find was a site that claimed my visions were premonitions.  I considered it at first and then when nothing ever came of them, I quickly dismissed the notion.  I don’t believe in that sort of thing anyway.

After the test results all came back normal, the doctors insisted that the pain was stress induced.  So, it didn’t surprise me when my dad waited until the last minute to tell me about his deployment to Afghanistan.

He said it was his One last Ooh-Rah before his much anticipated retirement in two months.  It bothered me that he was accompanying David there, but like many other things about military life, I was expected to accept what I couldn’t change and march on.

David turned down our street and pulled up in front of our single-story, adobe house on base.  The engine idled at a dull roar and he took on a more serious and genuine tone.  “You gonna to be okay, kid?”  He asked.

Under his hardened, Devil Dog exterior, David really did have a sweet side.  I smirked and nodded, understanding his unspoken pact to not say anything to dad.  He looked me over one last time.  “You’re a mess, Kat.”

We both laughed and then I slipped out of the Humvee and watched him drive away.

I ran the shower water, cold side only.  Summers in the Mojave make both sides of the faucet run hot, so I had to let it cool before stepping in.  Sometimes I wonder if the cold tap will completely dry up like a precious commodity.

I stood under the steady stream of the shower, relishing every cool droplet as it ran down my over heated body.  The scrapes only burned for a second and they were hardly noticeable once I washed away the dirt and dried blood.

I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around me and sat on the floor of the bathroom wanting to retreat to the visions I had today.

I freaked out the first time I had a vision, thinking there was something wrong with my brain.  I thought I was dying.  The visions weren’t as vivid then and the pain preceding them wasn’t as bad, but the fever that followed nearly ended me.  When I recovered in the hospital three days later, I wrote the incident off as illness induced until they began again at eleven.  I worried at first, bracing for another fever or a complete mental collapse.  But neither ever came.  So, I learned to enjoy the beautiful visions and endure the terrifying ones-shunning them to the deep recesses of my mind.  I got good at that over the years; blocking un-pleasantries.

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