The Vortex: Prophesies

Chapter Thirteen

They were worried about me, and by were, I mean they still are.

I get it, really, I do because I am the last person in the world to go off the deep end and miss class is me. Not that I really missed anything, because I hate when we do Physical Education and my only other class for the day was Charm-works and having another class with Jamie is low on my priority list.

Not only has he run so far away from the rest of us, denying us the ability to even try and be there for him, he is now listening through the walls to someone he used to care about having a breakdown. There isn't a part of me that went there with the hope that someone would come breaking through the door to save me, I am more than capable of self-regulating.

Except I can't help but wonder what kind of person can hear shattering and crying, then put themselves out there for the first time this year only to rip it away seconds later.

I thought the reality of it might have been that he wasn't ever there, but I could smell his cologne lingering in the hallway from where he ran. It has been engrained in my head since my first kiss in the library a year ago, when life was tender and the most, I had to worry about was what everything bubbling in my chest was.

Unlike Liylah and Jai, when we were in school, I was always concerned with us outing ourselves, and they spent their days wondering how many people they could get to ask them on a date. Spoiler alert, the answer was one or two, because no one likes to date the weird unpopular kids.

It makes me wonder what they think happened to us, whether they feel pride over supposedly running us out of the school? Or if maybe for the first time they are finally looking back on their actions and thinking that maybe they did the wrong thing?

It's a bad habit, not letting myself breath for even a second before throwing myself into problems I should be ignoring for a little longer, but I can't ignore the letter, and I wish I had never burnt it to a crisp. I could have put a handwriting analysis on the writing, found out if it was red ink or blood, trace where it came from so I could tell Headmaster Prophen.

I should tell her anyway, but there's this niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach that is convinced she will turn around and tell me that it's only another prank and nothing to worry about.

I haven't been able to move on from Jamie's proclamation, that adults lie, and it isn't a ground-breaking revelation that I had no idea about, it's just settled in my head a little different this time.

Which is why my head has been buried in any book I could get my hands on that delve into the kind of seeing I am desperate to unlock in myself, it's like an itchy feeling that blooms in the centre of my chest. Whenever I try and look in another crystal ball, it blooms in my chest and stays long after I give up on another attempt at viewing my family.

They seemed concerned by my call, questioning if everyone was okay and how healthy Grandmother is, begging them to tell me whether they have been out recently and noticed anything strange.

Thinking about it now I should have given myself a chance to calm down before blubbering down the line and making everyone worry about me, I hate that I don't trust just their words anymore. I hate the paranoia that eats at my every interaction now.

According to Mum, since the attack in town they have appeased Grandmother by not going out, only once a week for a grocery trip that Dad gets an hour to complete. Grandmother hasn't improved, but hasn't gotten any worse either, they think she might have Alzheimer's which would explain the episodes and the franticness of her actions.

What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

No matter how many times I find myself enveloped in the same passages of the only book I could find on Seers' in our private library, Readings of the Inner Eye, nothing outlines how I am supposed to access that part of me.