Thursday, January 25, 2007

And Thickens...

“I’m ok Nate, I was just reliving the horrors that this wedding ring had seen.” I held out the ring and he took it back, I heard it slid back into the bag. His finger brushed mine for a brief moment and I felt fear and guilt, almost overwhelming me. I reached for my coffee cup, a little awkwardly, feeling around the table for it. After a vision I was usually a little disorientated and shaky.
“What did you see?” I could tell Nate was on the edge of his seat, almost as if I could see him.
“Well, this was her wedding ring, I saw blood, a knife, and his face.” I was glad to have my hands wrapped around my warm mug. It kept them from shaking. I took a sip of the blessed hot liquid, reveling in the warmth that spread through my body. I hadn’t realized that the chill that had settled in my bones was from the vision.
“You saw him? The killer, you saw his face?” Nate was radiating panic, and I couldn’t understand why.
“Well I assume it was him, he was stabbing the owner of that ring. Nate, are you alright? You seem, anxious.” I tried putting it gently; I didn’t want him to get offended. He didn’t like that I could read his emotions so well without actually seeing him. It spooked him; actually it spooked a lot of people.
“Yeah, fine. I’m fine. I’m just glad that we may finally be getting a break.” Nate began to get a handle on his emotions. I felt him struggling to get them back under control. He was usually more laid back than this. Something was up. “Could you describe him to a sketch artist?” It was back to business now that he had a tighter reign on his control.
“Yes, but I didn’t think the police were willing to work with me anymore.”
“I think they will be willing to make an exception, besides if we break this case, we will both be cleared.” He seemed relieved.
“Alright, I’ll come down to the station first thing in the morning. In the mean time, go home Nate, you feel tired.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Thanks again Jade.” He stood up. I heard him walk into the kitchen and set his coffee cup in the sink. I sat in my chair, drinking my cooling coffee, thinking. There was something different about Nate tonight. He seemed more nervous, antsier, less like the laid back man I knew. Although this case had to be bothering him, it was a doozy, it was. He walked back towards me.
“Thanks! I’ll see you in the morning Jade. Sleep well.”
“Mm hmm. You too Nate, drive careful.”
“Did you want me to pick you up in the morning?”
“No, I think I’ll be ok, I’ll call a cab or something. Good night Nate.” I stood and walked towards the door.
“Alright, see you tomorrow then.” I heard the door open, then close behind him. I locked the deadbolt and sighed. I was really tired. Visions usually took a lot out of me, but Nate seemed to be giving off a high frequency buzz. I guess I was more susceptible to it, being that I was clairvoyant. But it seemed to drain me more so than usual. Sighing I carried my still half full and cold coffee to the kitchen, dumped it down the drain, and wandered up to bed.
The next morning came too early, but I had promised Nate, and it’s better to do it fresh. So I got up and showered, then called a taxi. I was dressed and ready, sitting at my kitchen table when the phone rang. I groped along the wall for the phone. When my fingers felt the familiar smoothness of the receiver it had rung four times already.
“Good morning, this is your taxi; we are waiting out front of your house.”
“Oh, I’ll be right out.” I hung up and hurried to the door. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my jacket. My keys were hanging beside the door just like always; I plucked them off their hook, grabbed my folding white cane and stepped out into the crisp autumn air. After locking the door and unfolding my cane, I heard a car door open.
“Oh, let me help you m’am.” The voice had a slight southern drawl, like the voice on the phone. I heard him hurry up the sidewalk towards me, and I slipped my sunglasses on smiling.
“Thank you.” He guided me down to the car by my elbow. He opened the door for me and I slid in. He closed my door and a few seconds later I heard his door open, and the soft sigh of fabric against fabric as he slid into his seat. He closed his door and asked, “Where to miss?”
“The police station please.”

Friday, January 19, 2007

The plot really does thicken...

“I know you don’t like to Jade, and I am grateful.” I heard the soft crinkling of a plastic bag. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing pulse. I half hoped that I wouldn’t get a reading off of whatever it was he was going to hand me. I knew it was small, because he had carried it in on his person, probably in one of his pockets. “Are you ready?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I felt him kneel in front of me. I cupped my hands in my lap. He knew the drill, he had to drop it into my hands, he could not be holding it too or I could get mixed messages. I’d get his impressions too. Unfortunately I had learned that the hard way. I was still feeling the repercussions from that. It was a few years ago, working on a kidnapping case. They had one man in custody; one man who Nate was positive was guilty. They had given me the little girl’s doll, Nate had handed it to me personally. The vision that I had gotten off of it had been more chaotic than usual, and it had implicated the accused. They had found some evidence that had been overlooked at the time, and it cleared the man that Nate and I had condemned. Well you can imagine how well that went over with the police. Most of them were a little skeptic to begin with, now…most of them won’t use a psychic, and they don’t believe me anymore. So Nate and I keep our meetings like this a secret. Everyone in the department knows that we are friends, but they don’t know that I still help him with tough cases.
It was warm to the touch. Smooth, small, some sort of metal. Round, probably a wedding or engagement ring. I let it sit in my palm, felt its significance grow. It seemed to grow heavier, warmer. I ran my finger round the circle, and I could see. A small silver wedding band. A hand, a smile, sliding smoothly over knuckles. Thick, hot, sticky liquid. Seeing through a haze of red. A falling star, streaking pain, a fresh hot spattering of red rain. I can hear the rain, splattering on the walls. It tastes like pennies, smooth and coppery. It tastes like home. I see his face then, through the haze of panic. Someone was screaming, and that someone was me.
“Jade, are you ok?” Nate was shaking me gently. I had a flash of the crime scene, police men, crime tape, two dead bodies and lots of blood, splashed on the walls, soaked into the mattress, dripping onto the floor. I felt such uncontrollable rage and helplessness, I knew then why Nate had come to me for help.
“Nate, don’t touch me.” I had gotten his impressions from the crime; I had seen it through his eyes. I didn’t need to see anymore blood and bodies. His hands left almost the instant I spoke.
“I’m sorry Jade, I forgot. You were screaming and I was worried.” Nate was one of those guys who felt obligated to help the damsels in distress. I may look like a damsel, but I was defiantly not in distress. I was one of the most independent people I know. My mom always had a problem with my independence while I was growing up. I think that my blindness played a big part in my independence. When I first started going blind I wallowed in self pity a lot of the time. I refused to learn Braille, convincing myself that it was only temporary. By the time I was fully blind I was almost completely helpless. My mom basically did everything for me. That was when I realized that I was blind, and I wasn’t going to see again. I think that lit a fire under my ass, because from that day on I was very independent, I wouldn’t let my mom help me; with anything. I learned Braille, I did my own laundry, and I started to cook for myself, which was a little harder than you’d think. Especially when I was trying to add spices. It took me a long time to label them all correctly. I had some strange tasting food for a while. I could discern most tastes and smells, but some of them were a little tricky; and I refused to let my mom help me unless it was absolutely necessary. She didn’t take to that too well. And then when I got a job, got my own place and moved out, she freaked. She still calls me every day to make sure I’m ok. I was twenty when I moved out, that was six years ago. I enrolled in collage and got a degree in psychology, hoping that it would further my understanding of my visions. Luckily for me the government paid for most of my schooling. Now I am an over qualified receptionist for a psychologists office down town. I make more money off of my “gift” than I do at work. Yes the police paid me, for services rendered; I used to be on retainer with them, until my very public mishap. Now I do favors for Nate.

Friday, January 12, 2007

This is a little idea I am tossing around my I figured I'd post it as a "Story Blog"

I haven’t always been blind. I was diagnosed with ‘Retinitis Pigmentosa’ at age twelve, and it progressed to full blindness by age seventeen. It was a rapid case; most people diagnosed with this disease aren’t fully blind until well into their twenties. I guess I was special.
I miss seeing colour the most. Although I dream in colour, and I “see” in colour, I still miss the vibrancy and startling contrasts. How can I possibly see, if I’m blind you ask? I don’t see in the conventional sense. I am a clairvoyant. I have visions. Sometimes it is triggered by an object that I am holding; sometimes a strong feeling from another person can give me a vision as well. I cannot control when or if I have a vision. They come and go. When I first started having them I thought they were bad dreams, nightmares. There were some murders at a near by collage and I had what I thought were nightmares. That was until I saw a girl he hadn’t abducted yet; his next victim. Unfortunately I realized it too late.
When I have visions now, I go to the police; if it’s probative. They didn’t always used to trust me. They always say that murder brings the crazies out of the woodworks. And they always assumed that I was one of the crazies. Visions tend to be very chaotic and disjointed. They can be very confusing and even worse when you are trying to explain them to a skeptic. Now I have the support of a few detectives who actually bring me pieces of evidence in hopes that I can help.
So here I find myself, sitting in my living room at half past eleven at night with Detective Nathan Rawly, waiting for the coffee to brew. My Seeing Eye dog, Hermes, was sitting obediently at my feet.
“Thanks for seeing me so late Jade.”
“No problem Nate, you are always welcome in my home.”
“Yeah, unfortunately this isn’t a social visit.” Sighing he shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. I could hear him running his tie through his fingers, it was a nervous tic. This case had to be a pretty bad one if he was this nervous.
“Nate,” I caught his wandering hands in my own. “It’ll be ok. You’ll get him.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go. “I’ll go get the coffee.”
I stood and walked confidently into my small kitchen. I could tell the coffee was finished by the smell. I stood in front of the coffee pot and took two steps left, then opened the cupboard. I felt for the mugs and pulled two down. I set the coffee pot lip on the rim of the mug and kept my thumb bent over the top, so I wouldn’t overflow the cup. I expertly poured two cups of coffee, added copious amounts of cream and sugar to Nates and only a little honey to mine then wandered back into the living room. Nate had resumed the nervous stroking of his tie.
I held out the coffee to Nate, he took it, being careful not to touch me. He knew I didn’t like to be touched. It could bring on a vision, and I didn’t need to see what he had been doing tonight. “So Nate, tell me, what brings you around here so late?”
“Well, I am sure you have heard on the news about the unsolved murders happening in the honeymoon suites around town. Well, I’m on that case. We’ve hit a wall. We got nothing. And I was hoping that maybe you could help me out.” “You know that I don’t like to do this with such brutal murders. But since you’ve exhausted every other route, I’ll give it a try.” I set my coffee cup down. There was a fine tremor in my hands. I didn’t like dealing with murders. I did it because I had a gift, but I didn’t have to like it. Nate had known me long enough to know that. He and I had been friends for a long time. He knew about the nightmares I had had from using my gift on police matters. Sometimes I thought it was more of a curse than a gift.