pte

The parking lot did seem a little emptier than usual but I wasn't sure if my neighbors were taking advantage of the break in the ever more frequent rain storms to spend time outside. While still humid, the temperature was perfect for runni

groceries away, I had a harder time than usua

wift before completing his gown for the Spring Gala?

more importantly about my conversation with Tom. While I thought Tom was attractive and

re to visit the archives, I knew I had to make a reasonable choice. "Or at least one I

ith it. Satisfied with my choice, I made certain everything I needed for class was gathered and then I prepa

rubbed my feet together, feeling the rough shape of the scar on my foot. If I encountered the beast again, I wanted to be ab

ost unse

ggled down beneath the covers. For a long time, I stared at the ceiling, hoping the beast was not there waiting for me once I closed my ey

, but to my surprise, they

uldn't see me. As I watched them settle in and begin their meal, I wondered if it would be different if I visited the cemetery. If I went to the grave

se my ability for long periods then the power would sort of leak out of me and call the nearest dead. For this reason it was a

s between twelve and twenty. The three older boys were Johnathan, Thomas and Alexander, although I wasn't entirely certain which was which. The article I found on their murder listed all of them and their ages so I knew the names of the entire Bradford Family.

e to war?" one of the older boys asked. H

another one of the older

sed at the dinner table. Such matters are distr

f the tureens. Theoretically, I knew the soup wouldn't spill if they ran into me, but I wasn't sure exactly what would happen if I touched any of the memories. I

d it enough times that I could tune it out. Rain

he back garden, " Emily informed the others and

s fluttered in and out of the room, bringing each new course and clearing away the completed ones. I knew from following them that as

they when h

iousness. I shivered. The question wasn't mine, or at leas

ng why the thought didn't occur to me before. 'Wha

shotgun blast that more or less turned William's head into small bits decorating the wallpaper. Even if the servants missed the first few shots, there w

silent and then came to check things out. 'Or maybe

ys stand in the dining room listening to the family. In my quest for answers about the family, I searched the house as well as I was able without being able to touch or move anything. On one of my

a part of her memory, ' I corrected.

yself out of this dream, but it always seemed somehow disrespectful to listen to the conversation and watch the meal then disap

t was n

k into a ponytail, the greasy blondish locks hanging straight down his back like muddied straw. There was no mercy in his eyes. There were a few mended spots on his shirt and his pants had a s

is

ugh me and I knew thi

re speaking to the dead in a cemetery. Could the spirit spea

nable to do anything other than bear witness. He holstered his gun and picked up a shotgun I hadn't seen him set to the side. He strolled around the table almost casuall

they were dead. Somehow he missed the fact that Emily was still breathing. I doubted it was his lack of skill. William was the focus and the

ed onto the plate and picked up one of the remaining pork chops. He sniffed it and then took a large bite out of the

' I thought, still standing pressed a

eyes never leaving the gasping dying man. He finished a

e, he wiped his greasy hand off on the dying man's shoulder. "Unfortunat

against William's chin and leaned in as tho

The gunman pulled the trigger and the man's head exploded, coating the wall behind him in blood and gore. The g

an enchanting evening, " h

t the table I heard Emily breathing. It was a soft sound that ended in a low rattle as her final breath tumb

While I wouldn't avoid watching the bad parts out of respect for the dead, I had no

cerning part of the dream. Usually, the dream only occurred when I skipped my practice at the flea market for some reason. If I went to the flea market, my conversations with

ll the excess energy for the week. I shouldn't be having the dream.' I frowned, but my eyes felt weighted and I cou

e the be

lt my back pressed against the side of my car and I slowly slid down the side until I was crouched on the ground. Every part of me wanted to curl up into as small a ball as I could manage. I wanted to scream, but I also wanted to vomit

backed off. As soon as my head was clear I drew in deep breaths, panting like I had just run a marathon as I pulled clean air into my body. The beast stood a few fe

you either, " I told it, b

ed by the miasma of the beast made me want to curl into a ball, having it study me, made me want t

or standing, less helpless somehow. My head only reached its shoulder; a sh

my dream I was dressed as Brownie. The t-shirt I was wearing was one I put into storage in case Swift recognized the decals and when I lifted

d back, bracing myself. For some strange reason, it didn't look like it w

I asked, my voice ba

shaky as my hands. The beast lowered its head so that it could look directly into my eyes

are

wobbly knees turned to jelly and threatened to drop me back to the ground. I didn't expect the beast to talk

ud before I really thought abou

zed that despite the horns, the beast appeared to be covered in feathers rather than fur and while its

for a warrior of such might. You have stood against me three times, and have earned the

zu, " I man

d I woke up in my bed. My scarred foot ached, but it was not burning as it was the

explaining to do, "