Among Star Signs

Chapter One

Ginger
Cold, cold sweat and blackness greets me as I stumble through another night of sleeplessness. My sheets tangle around my legs, trapping them. I slip in and out of consciousness blindly, on the verge of wandering into sleep, and suddenly I trip and am awakened. My hands grow clammy and pale as I hold them in front of my face. They're dimly lit and rather bruised.

"Come on, Tommy," someone says, and now I know that I'm dreaming.

For the past two weeks, I've had incredibly strange visions. They've been wildly vivid, each taking place in a different person's body, and in a completely different situation. All have ended in some sort of tragedy which leaves me rather sad when I wake up, but it might just be my overactive imagination this week before Finals leading me from happier settings to sadder ones.

"Tommy, get up." The voice is calm, strangely so, like a dam holding back a flood of emotion. "Tommy, please." It's a woman's voice, just on the brink of shaking. I realize I'm lying on the floor this time and I can't feel a single bone in my body. My mind is strangely at ease, despite the fact that I know I'll have to wake up feeling the invisible blood on my hands. There's a click and afterwards a huge cracking sound, and then I'm awake, bolt upright in bed, tears staining my face.

Being a Seer sucked big time.

I stumble over to the bathroom in a hurry, wiping away my tears before Beth can hear me and sweep inside, all motherly and cold.

I grip the edges of the sink and stare at my reflection. A short, pale girl with a mess of orange hair looks back with a hungry, crazed glint in her eyes like someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. I splash a little water on my face, brush down my hair with my fingers, and sigh, gripping the edges of the sink.

My traditional black nightgown is soaked in sweat, so I peel it off and change into my cotton one. I look terrible, with my necklace twisted around my chest against my clammy skin and mussed hair. I pull the charm of my necklace- a small silver sun- out of the folds of my nightgown and look at it carefully.

My heartbeat slows as I trace the outline of the charm and set my hands back down on the sink one more time. Then I open the door and go back to the bedroom.

A figure startles me from my bed, perched like an impeding shadow.

"Jesus, Beth," I say, rather too loudly. Beth doesn't react except for a small smile. Her dark, pupil-less eyes meet mine and ask an unspoken question. Even without the words in her eyes, I would have read her mind anyways. Ginger. Are you feeling okay?

"I'm fine, Beth. I don't need you to burst into my room every night to baby me."

The Finals are tough, Ginger. Even I must work very hard to master the ways of the Mages. It is difficult both to manipulate the ways of the Void- she motions to me- and to master them to use against those who come from it. She sits, poised perfectly, waiting for my next remark. Even in the middle of the night, she looks pristine and polished, her long, pin-straight blond hair falling down her back. Her black nightgown isn't much of a variation from her normal attire. She even is wearing her trademark headband, pushed just up off of her forehead.

"I know, Beth, but it's my burden to manage the visions. Also, quick question. Do you even sleep? You're up, like, every night, and it's hella creepy."

Get some sleep, Ginger.

"I think you need it more," I mutter as she rises from the bed and glides across the room towards the door. I would be lying if I said that, as much as I loved her, she didn't creep me out a little. The way she moved was just ghostly, like a shadow. Maybe it had to do with her ability to draw power from the Void, which is an invisible limbo between life and death from which Witches gain most of their power. I, on the other hand, could see glimpses of the future through people wavering in and out of the Void and therefore foresee people who were about to die. Hence my awful dreams. So, I guess I wasn't gifted with the ability to creep people out a little. I was 5'3 and, as Rouge put it, "unpredictably sassy."
I climb back into bed warily, hoping Rouge wasn't somewhere hiding in the shadows, checking up on me. She was in the corner last Wednesday night, and I had almost shrieked before she explained that she had gotten there by accident when she was trying to get to the bathroom.