This feeling

May 18, 2010
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I'm dreading what my father has just told me. We have to go to my grandmother's house. It's not that I don't like my grandmother, it's that I have this really bad feeling that something bad is going to happen.

“Come on, Stacy, let's go!” my mother screamed up the stairs to me.

“I don't want to!” I yelled back from my bedroom.

“You're coming whether you like it or not.”

I can't believe my parents are making me go. I already told them about how I was feeling when they told me we had to leave. So far all of my feelings have come to be true. Why don't they understand that now?

Reluctantly, I get into the car and we head off. Throughout the car ride I stay very tense. My parents can tell and they suggest that I should try and sleep. That it would be another half hour until we got there.

Figuring that I might as well, I tried. It was very hard, but as tense as I was, I knew it would be best for my health.

*****



I start to feel entrapped. I open my eyes and can't tell where I am.

“Mom?”

“Oh good, you're awake.”

That didn't sound like my mom. “Who are you?” I arise into a sitting position and my vision begins to clear. It was definitely not my mom, but a man.

“The nurse.”

“Nurse? I was just in the car.”

“I know. Let me explain. Your father was driving and he hit a patch of black ice. The car went off the road and you hit a tree.”

“Are my parents okay?”

“We don't know yet. Neither of them were wearing their seat-belts. They are in intensive care right now.”

“Am I going to be okay?”

“You're fine. The worst you have is a sprained ankle. Which you probably can't feel because of the pain meds.”

I knew we shouldn't have gone. Can't my parents ever listen to me? Just once? No one ever believes my feelings. People are always calling me strange, abnormal. But I'm not. I'm a regular person who can sense the feelings of what is to come in the future.

“Why don't you go back to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning to tell you how your parents are doing.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say trying to act strong.

*****


“Stacy, wake up.”

When I open my eyes I see the gentle nurse who talked to me yesterday. And that's when I remembered what had happened.

“How are my parents?” I ask in a hurry.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this. . . ”

“Tell me what?” I interrupted

“Well, your parents . . . well . . . they're dead.”

Impossible. How could they have died? It's all my fault. I should have stopped them, but
I didn't. I'm the reason my parents are dead.

“Are you okay Stacy?”

“What do you think? My parents are dead and it's my fault. Of course I'm not okay.”

“It's not your fault Stacy. Why would you say that?”

“It is my fault. I knew something bad was going to happen, but I didn't stop the possibilities.”

From how upset I am, you would expect me to me crying, but I'm not. I'm too angry to cry, but I know the tears will come; when I'm ready to let them out.

“Without any parents you're going to have to live in a foster home.”

“There is no way I'm living in a foster home! Can't I live with a friend?”

“If they're willing to be guardians of you. Who would you like to stay with?”

“My best, well my only friend, Carol. She's the only one who will understand any of this.”

The nurse left, I assume to call Carol's parents. But as he leaves, a wave hits me with another feeling that something bad is going to happen, again.

*****



I don't know how long it usually takes to tell someone that a girl's parents have died and that she wants you to be her guardian, but I'm tired of waiting. I rip out the IV's in my arm and jump out of the small bed.

“Oww!”

I had forgotten that I had a sprained ankle. But I'll get over it.

I limp over to the door and peek out I see my nurse behind the counter talking to a bunch of other nurses. I decide to get closer.

I continue to limp over and the pain is killing me. I stop and take the pressure off my ankle. I'm just close enough to hear what they are whispering about.

“How am I supposed to tell her this?” my nurse says to the others.

“First, she and her parents get into a car crash, both her parents dying. Then, I call her friend's parents and they say Carol was hit by a car.”

It takes a few seconds before I register what has just been said, but them I realize.

“No!” I scream.

I cringe to the floor and my nurse runs over to me. He picks me up into his arms.

“I'm so sorry, Stacy, I didn't want you to know about Carol until we found out if she was okay or not.”

I felt so safe in his arms. I wish he'd never let me go.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what, Stacy?”

“When you went to go call Carol's parents, I felt like something bad was going to happen. Only, this time I was too late.”

“You mean you have feelings?”

“It sounds stupid, I know,” I said feeling like a MAJOR retard.

“No it doesn't. But you've had them before? Did they mean anything?”

“Most of the time.”

“Does anyone know about this?”

“ Yea, almost everyone. That's why I have no friends. They all think I'm a freak.” I pushed my head into his chest which was very muscular.

“You're not a freak, Stacy. You're special.”

“Yeah, Special Ed.” This makes him chuckle.

“Why don't you stay at my house for awhile. Until we find a good place for you to stay.”

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not, but I like you.”

“You're the only one.”
*****

I did end up going home with Dr. Marsh, but I had to wait, like, five hours until he got off shift. Then we hopped in his car which was small, fancy, and white, that alsot had adjustable, heated, leather seats. (And let me tell you one thing; my butt was nice and warm the whole ride. (: )

Falling asleep on the ride to his house, Dr. Marsh, ( his first name was James. I asked.) gently shook me awake. As my eyes fluttered open, I found myself peering at a fairly large, pale green house.

“So it is true,” I said groggily, climbing out of the car on a limp.

“What's that?” James replied.

“Doctors really are rich.”

“Only a few of us,” he said with a laugh. He handed me a key and said, “Go ahead and wait inside. I need to grab my briefcase from the trunk.

I did as he said. Walking up the pathway, the house looked unapproachable for some odd reason. Then I realized why; I had that bad feeling again.

I half ran and half limped back to the car.

“Dr. Marsh I can't go in there.”

“Why not? Whats wrong?”

“I have that feeling again. There's something wrong with your house.”

“I'll go check it out. Give me the keys.”

He grabbed the keys as I tossed them in the air just in front of him and he jogged toward the house. From the car I could see him try the doorknob before the key and the door opened. Taking a quick look at me, he crept inside. I then heard a slight gasp.

I ran-limped again to the front door. James was standing just inside. Then I knew why he had gasped. The house looked torn apart. There was a broken lamp on the floor and all the furniture was overturned.

“I'm so sorry,” I said in a whisper.

“I'm just glad no one got hurt.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First I'm going to call 911, then we're going to stay at hotel for the night while the police check this place out,” I nodded in agreement.

After the police had came, we left for a hotel and we wound up in one nearby. It was called “Here When You Need us”. Well, we definitely needed them now, and yup, they were here all right.

“Don't worry James,” as I said this he looked at me with a funky grin, “I have a feeling everything will be okay.”





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