Vision of Shadows (Preview)

Chapter One

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

 

Journal of Bristol Blackburn

Sunday, March 17th

 

There are times when being psychic really bites, and this is one of them. Here it is, three in the morning, and all I can think about is the boy who will eventually have his hands on me.

I have no idea what his name is. We’ve never met, but I feel like we’ve grown up together. I’ve had visions of him since I was six years old. Now, eleven years later, I know we’re getting closer and closer to finally meeting. I think it’s going to happen any day now.

And the thought scares the hell out of me.

I know what Dream Boy will look like. In a word: hot. Dark hair that falls loosely over his deep blue eyes. He has an angel’s face and the devil’s grin.

I know he’s got a bad boy attitude. Half the time, I get flashes of him getting hurt. Sometimes he’s playing the hero. Other times, he’s just being an idiot. Many times, it seems like there’s someone who enjoys hurting him.

What I don’t know is what he’ll be to me.

There are times when he seems to love me. Don’t ask me why. But he’ll look at me with nothing but love and contentment in his eyes. Earlier tonight, I had one of those dreams. One where he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Weird that I know every inch of his body, yet I have no idea what his name is, huh?

Then there’s the other vision. It was the first one I had of him, and the one I have most often. It’s the one I woke from tonight, the feeling of his hands still on my skin.

In that vision, he doesn’t look at me with love, but with hatred. He has his hands wrapped around my neck as he slowly squeezes the life out of me.

So any day now, I’m about to meet the boy of my dreams —literally. Then I get to see if he’s going to be the love of my life or the end of it.

Funny thing is, I’m not sure which idea scares the crap out of me more.

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