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The room seemed to close in around me. I've always been a little shy, an introvert in nature, but the weight of the moment pressed heavily on me. Speaking about my gift—or rather, my curse—had always been challenging. But tonight, something had shifted. Maybe it was the safety of being in a group, or perhaps it was the recognition in their eyes.
All I knew was that I needed to share.
“I'm an artist,” I began, my fingers playing with the edge of my shirt. “Art has been my escape. It’s my world, a place where I can control what happens. But...sometimes, when I paint, things appear on the canvas that I didn’t intend. Visions that I never asked for.” I hesitated, collecting my thoughts. “They're never good. Always... terrible things.”
Eyes fixed on me, waiting for me to continue, and I felt a pull, urging me to reveal more. To reveal everything.
“Murders. Kidnappings. Terrible accidents.” My voice quivered, betraying the fear I felt. “I've seen them all before they happen.”
The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Dr. Emily’s gaze was kind and patient, her nod encouraging me to keep going. I took another deep breath.
“But lately,” I swallowed, feeling the tears threaten to fall. “Lately, I've been seeing something even more terrifying. It's our town. Crestwood, burning. I... I can't help but think something bad is coming.”
At this revelation, I noticed Alex. His posture had changed. He sat up straight, his blue eyes piercing and alert. Did he know something? Had he sensed it too? I could only hope that was the case. It sure felt lonely being the only one seeing these heinous events.
But before I could dwell on it, Ben's voice interrupted my thoughts. “She's telling the truth.” His tone was firm, his face set in a determined line.
Dr. Emily shot him a look. “Ben, please. We agreed to respect boundaries. Reading minds here without permission isn’t acceptable.”
Ben lowered his gaze, guilt evident in his eyes. “Sorry. It’s just... the images, the feelings you’re describing. They felt so strong, so vivid. I couldn't help but tune in. What can this mean? If she’s seeing these things and she’s seen things before? Shouldn’t we be concerned?”
I hadn’t been expecting that response at all. I resisted the urge to immediately agree with him. Instead, I tried to quell the butterflies in my stomach.
Dr. Emily frowned slightly. Her petite frame shrunk a bit. Or was I imagining that? “Let’s hear her out, Ben. Please continue, Clara.”
“It’s okay, Ben. You know me, Dr. Emily. I don’t really have any secrets. There’s nothing much going on in my life, except my art.”
“Yeah, I’ve been getting bad vibes lately too,” Lolo said, her husky voice surprising all of us. “Believe me, I know all about bad vibes. Some bad stuff is going to go down around here. That I believe.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help but ask as the skin on my arms crawled. I didn’t like this feeling, but Lolo was a compelling figure. She had jet black hair which she wore short, except for the top which was slicked back with some sort of gel. Lolo wore a sleeveless shirt and had plenty of tattoos, none of them were butterflies.
Dr. Emily leaned forward again, her glasses in her hand. She spun them slightly as she studied Lolo. “Why do you say that? Do you care to share more about your experiences?”
“Not really, doctor. I will say that I’m quite different from all of you,” she grinned. It was a pretty smile. Lolo had dimples and perfect teeth. Actually, despite her obvious attempt to not be pretty, she was quite attractive. “Except for him. I think you and I are kindred spirits.” She directed that comment at Alex, who didn’t agree with her, or smile. He didn’t do anything but stare back at her blankly.
Okay. That’s just creepy.
“Honestly, it’s... somewhat comforting to know I’m not the only one sensing things. Even if it's just through my paintings.” Nobody said anything so I took a deep breath and continued, “When I paint these visions, I feel them. I experience the raw emotions and pain associated with them. It's overwhelming. I wish I could turn it off. Stop seeing them. But it's like an uncontrollable flood. It’s not good when I have a commission. When I’m working on a client’s project and then wake up to find I destroyed it by painting a crime scene. Or something else. ”
I looked around the room, my gaze landing on Alex again. There was a flicker of recognition, a shared understanding. What was he hiding? But then my thoughts shifted back to my visions. “I’m scared. Not just for me, but for all of us. Crestwood is my home, and I fear we might be in real danger.”
My emotions welled up, taking me by surprise. I’d never been this candid with anyone before, not even with Dr. Emily. Tears streamed down my face, but they were a mix of sadness, fear, and a small measure of relief for finally sharing my secret.
Dr. Emily handed me a tissue. “Thank you, Clara. That took a lot of courage. You’ve given us all something to think about.”
I wiped away my tears and gave a weak smile, “Thanks.”
“What about you, doctor?” Lolo asked Dr. Emily. It was her turn to lean forward. She clapped her hands together and studied the petite therapist.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what about you? You’ve got something going on. I can feel it,” Lolo smiled as she watched Dr. Emily squirm in her seat for a few seconds.
“Can you? Tell me what you’re feeling.” Dr. Emily smiled with a confidence she clearly didn’t feel. “For this group to work, we need to focus on you. All of you. Not me. I’m just here to facilitate.”
“Oh,” Lolo said as she suddenly rose from the chair. “That’s disappointing. Well, I’ve got to go. I must be at work in a few minutes. It was great meeting everyone. Later.”
Dr. Emily appeared a bit saddened by this turn of events. “Will we see you next week?”
Lolo paused a moment while she dug her keys out of her pocket. “Sure. I’ll be here. I’ll bring better coffee too. That stuff sucks.”
Her early departure put a damper on things and the meeting broke up a bit early. I wasn’t too disappointed. I felt rather validated. But not so much that I wanted to hang around.
Unless it was Alex who wanted to chat. Clearly he didn’t. He dogged the pretty doctor’s footsteps.
Oh. That’s how it is. Of course, he’d pick her. She’s not a chunky artist living in a tacky apartment with no friends or family. I’m never the prettiest girl in the room.
“You’re wrong ab...ab...about that. See you next week,” Ben whispered to me as he passed me in the hall.
Damn. He was a mind reader after all. I couldn’t help but smile as I left.
