Visions: The Mystical Encounter Series (The Mystical Encounter Series Book 1) (7 page)

Barry’s jaw loosened as his brows smoothed out. The coloring in his face washed out again, leaving behind paleness. Instead of being angry, he seemed dismayed. I let out a small humorless laugh. “Now, who’s scaring who?”

“No. You’re not. I mean…‌I’m fine.” He stumbled on his words, putting on a brave front trying in vain to hide his fear. “You amaze me. I don’t know how you can stand here and act as if nothing bothers you. If it was me, I’d totally be freaked out.”

“It’s not bravery, believe me. More like…‌survival,” I replied. “I’ve been different my whole life, so I guess I learned to deal with the weirdness a long time ago.”

The exhaustion was taking over, and before continuing our conversation, I needed to sit. Not knowing if he’d follow me or not, I went over to my bed and sat on the edge. To my surprise, he followed sitting beside me. His curiosity must have been piqued because he no longer appeared afraid. That was good because it was taking all my strength to disclose any part of my history. If there were any trace of the fear being of me, I would shut completely down. Not usually sharing personal information, especially secrets, I found myself in new territory.

With a slight tilt of his head, his consuming stare stirred something deep inside me, and it took all my willpower to stop myself from reaching out to touch him. He confused me, but he also made me feel safe, which confused me even more. I blinked, trying to focus before continuing, “When I was little, I’d be playing with my friends. When one of them would touch my hand or arm, I’d visualize them in their home setting. It would be an argument they had with their parents the night before, or a happy occasion like playing in the park. Whatever strong emotion stirred inside of them was what I would see. Of course back then, I didn’t worry about it. I thought it was normal until I entered junior high.

“I never mentioned being able to see segments of their life, partly because nobody had ever shared what they viewed, I thought it was a secret, like something that’s supposed to be private. I remained quiet about them until a vision revealed one of my friends getting abused by her father. After telling my mother about it…‌Let’s just say she didn’t handle it well. At first, she didn’t want to believe me. When the abuse became public knowledge, she sat me down and had me explain exactly what I had seen. Of course, doing what Mother does best, she decided to keep quiet about it, and told me never to mention what I could do to anyone.”

I broke eye contact focusing on my balled fist in my lap when self–consciousness started creeping in. I just couldn’t fathom the idea of him watching my face; I was so embarrassed to be displaying my life story.

In a tone barely over whisper, I continued, “That’s when I started to withdraw from people. I didn’t want to have these visions anymore and quit inviting friends over to avoid them. I made up excuses as to why I couldn’t go over to their houses until they eventually quit asking.”

I paused, wondering if I should admit this next part. Barry sat there patiently as I contemplated what to do. Never having trusted anyone to this extent before, I swallowed as I pressed forward. “I had a few friends that I talked to, but I didn’t consider them close. I kept everyone at a safe distance because I didn’t want to chance them finding out about my abilities. Mom made it seem like a curse, and I guess I did, too. I walked in the hallways of school, drifting along as an outcast among a sea of normal people.

“Everything seemed to be going okay. It wasn’t great, but it was decent enough. That was until April went missing, and her sweater touched me. The vision was too powerful and frightening for me to hide my expression. And, well…‌you know the rest.”

Still staring at my now white–knuckled hands, tears had begun to form. I tried to blink them away because the last thing I’d wanted to do was break down and cry in front of him.
God, when did I become such a sap
?

“Heather…” He came over, wrapping his arms around me, drawing me close to him. “Heather, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m here for you now if you want me to be.”

My heart started beating faster as I stared back at him. We were close, sitting here on my bed with his arms wrapped around me. It just felt right. Perhaps if we had known each other longer, or I knew if he liked me for more than friendship, we would have shared a kiss. My body wanted to lean forward and let it happen naturally, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, I backed away from him as his hands slid down to my waist. His fingers skimmed along the curve of my hips, sending sensations through me. My thoughts jumbled together, making it difficult to concentrate. His stare was captivating and if I knew how to read him, I’d swear he wanted to return that kiss. But that was impossible, nobody wanted me. The heat rising in my cheeks, as I realized how ridiculous I was being, broke the moment. “Thanks, Barry. You’re a good friend to have.” Placing my hand on his chest, I raised up, pretending not to notice how his head dropped in what appeared to be disappointment. Before I could read too much into it, I quickly added, “We better get started.”

Barry quietly went over to my dresser picking up the truck as I took off toward the living room. If he was upset with me, he didn’t show it. Instead he followed me out as if nothing had happened. Maybe I had read too much into it because he wasn’t acting disappointed.
What do I know about guys’ thoughts and feelings anyway‌—‌nothing, that’s what.

I went straight to the couch and sat down while never taking my eyes off the toy. This was really happening. I was voluntarily trying to have a vision while he sat right beside me. That thought made my stomach want to retch, as a choking sensation began deep in my throat. Barry must have sensed my anxiety because he asked me again if I was up to it. With the words
“No, let’s forget the whole mess”
on the tip of my tongue, I whispered
“yes”
instead.

I closed my eyes trying my best to clear my mind as he handed me the toy truck. No surprise, Johnny immediately flashed in front of me.
He was in the backyard with his blue toy truck, the one I’m holding now. As a man approached him, he wasn’t scared. He eyed the guy for a second and went back to playing. He had seen that man before, perhaps knew him. “Come here Johnny, I need to show you something,” the guy said in a deep, husky voice. Johnny glanced at the guy then momentarily looked over to the house next door. “Come on, there isn’t much time,” the guy urged. Johnny glanced back at him before getting up to follow him into the woods, abandoning his toy.

My body jerked as I flashed to Johnny sitting all alone in a room, unable to move. I could sense his body aching when he realized his arms and legs were tied up. Breathe…‌I could hardly breathe. Something seemed to be restricting my air flow. I realized a gag had been placed in his mouth as he struggled to work it loose.

A strong volt of energy zapped straight through my heart, causing my pulse to spike. Panic set in. As he desperately scanned the room, four dingy plain walls were all that he visualized. They clearly offered no sign of escape. There wasn’t one distinguishing feature to the room, except the single doorway. Coldness overcame my body as I realized it must be a basement. Johnny, having worked his gag loose, began to cry. Through the sobs I could barely make out the words “I want my mommy.”

Johnny’s head snapped toward the creaking sound of a door opening slowly. My vision started to cloud making it impossible to see the guy coming toward him. He’s there. I could sense his presence, but I couldn’t see him clearly. My heart sank, knowing Johnny’s tears were clouding my vision. Something flashed, catching my eye. It took a second to figure out it’s a reflection from something shiny in his hand. My throat swelled shut. I needed to breathe, but I couldn’t. He stepped closer. As his hands rose, I realized the shine reflected off a…

I inhaled sharply, gasping for air, as I snapped back to the present.

“Heather…‌Heather…‌It’s all right. Look at me.” A frantic voice shouted out.

I turned toward the voice calling my name, but it took a minute to focus as the fear slowly subsided. Too afraid to speak, I waited for my heart rate to slow while I tried evening out my breathing.

“Are you okay?” Barry asked apprehensively. His eyes were filled with nothing but concern as he gazed deeply into mine.

I wasn’t sure why, but I hated seeing the worried expression on his face. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be burdened with my troubles. He shouldn’t even be a part of this. He should be doing what most seventeen–year–old boys do and smiling his special smile that makes me pause. That was what I wanted for him, but if I was honest, I really wanted him not to be afraid of me. Slowly, I nodded my head. “Just give me a second,” I said weakly.

He sat patiently next to me with his hand on the small of my back, waiting for my breathing to return to normal. When I found my voice, I screeched, “Barry, he knew his killer. It wasn’t a stranger it was some guy who…” I remembered Johnny eyeing the house next door. I wondered if that was where the killer lived. It wouldn’t be right to accuse anyone without more to go on, but it still made me wonder. “Who he recognized. He was playing in the backyard, with this toy, when the guy approached him and lured him into the woods.”

“He killed him in the woods? You think he’s buried there?”

“Maybe, but he didn’t kill him out there. He bound him up to a chair and held him in a room without any windows. It was cold, like a basement. The walls were dingy. That’s where…” I paused because the strained expression upon Barry’s face told me he couldn’t process any more information.

I had forgotten that he had been close to Johnny and realized I had thrown out too many random details. I needed to rein it in. Not thinking about the impact my words would have toward his feelings, I silently cursed myself for being too insensitive.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have to continue if you’d like me to stop,” I apologized.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he said, “No…‌go on. It's painful to hear, but it’s the only way to find what happened to him.”

With a slight hesitation, I decided to leave out the gorier details. I’d let those images haunt me instead. “The guy killed him in that room. I believe the room was in the basement of the killer’s house. I also believe the house isn’t too far away, that it’s accessible by these woods.”

Glancing out my window, toward the house next door, I wondered if I should say something. Honestly, I didn’t know if he was killed in that particular house, but I couldn’t shake off the sensation that it was somehow involved.

“You think the killer lives on this street?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know which house?”

I answered cautiously. “Not exactly.” I needed to make a decision quickly—‌tell him or not. If I kept quiet, and it turned out that was the place, then I’d never forgive myself. If I did tell him and that house had no specific role in his disappearance, then really what harm becomes of it anyway? Hard feelings from my next door neighbor I never talk to? I could handle that. I decided to tread the waters gently. “I have a suspicion, but I don’t know for sure. When Johnny’s killer lured him away, he did something. Which I hate to say since it’s based on an assumption.”

“What did he do?”

“The moment he recognized his killer, he glanced over at the house next door. I have a feeling it meant something, but that’s all I have…‌a feeling. By not seeing him enter that house, I don’t have any real proof. The one thing I have to go by was the murderer has dark hair with brown eyes, which I learned from my first vision. The guy I see coming out of that house,” I pointed over to my neighbor’s house. “Has grayish hair now. Was he living there ten years ago?”

“Mr. Barton?” Barry asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. As he paused, I sat there quietly waiting for him to process the information.

“I wouldn’t have suspected him. I always thought he was a bit odd, but not a cold–blooded killer. He was relatively new to the area when it happened, but he helped with the search party when they went out searching for Johnny in the woods. He came up to me one afternoon and told me not to be afraid; they would probably find him soon. Surely he wouldn’t be behind it.”

Pain, mixed with shock, dispersed across Barry’s face making it difficult to process. I hated accusing that Barton guy of a heinous crime, but I just couldn’t shake off the skepticism coming from that house.

With an attempt to ease Barry’s mind somewhat, I offered, “Maybe he isn’t behind it. Like I said, I have nothing solid.” My eyes narrowed as I glared at his house, adding, “I just wish there was some way of getting inside there.”

~8~

Betrayal

“I’m glad we have a chance to talk,” Barry’s friend, Nicole, said as we sat down at the cafeteria table. Our class ended a few minutes early which meant we had time before everyone else showed up for lunch. I had already gone through the lunch line, while she staked out our usual spot. With an eyebrow raised, I held my breath as she continued, “It’s important to go to the police.”

The surrounding acoustic level dropped about thirty decibels as the blood drained from my body in hesitation of her next words.

“Because they could help find what happened to Johnny,” she continued with a hushed undertone.

The word
Johnny
whispered out of her mouth confirmed my fear and betrayal. It felt like a dagger thrust into my back. Shocked beyond words, I didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt.
How could he do this to me? What was he thinking? What was I?
I knew better than to trust anyone other than myself. What a fool I was for putting my faith in him only to have it thrown in my face. A complete fool. I just got used to the idea of having somebody trustworthy in my life. Someone that was dependable, but now…‌I should have known better. In real life those people didn’t exist. The balance between friendship and trust I craved was nothing but a pipe dream. Truth, reality bites. Everyone was self–centered and pushed along their self–agenda. Yeah, I was leaning more toward anger right now.