Carson pulled into my driveway for the second time today. I got out of my car with a "Thanks. Bye," and went inside to the comfort of my bed, after struggling with the doorknob and the brace on my hand.
I flopped down and replayed this night in my head: I was walking home in the rain. Carson saw me and took me to dinner. I accidentally told him that I had been abused for six years of my life, and then things got awkward. Oh, and that Tim guy was totally checking me out, and that's really weird 'cause he was thirty-seven-- twenty years older than I was. Creepy.
I started thinking about the girl named Amelia. She was actually really pretty. She had blond hair, and really pretty blue eyes. She was from California, and had her whole life ahead of her. She was an only child, and both of her parents were still alive. She wanted to go to college to get a Masters in Interior Designing. A few years ago, when she was still partly a kid, she had a Sims game, and instead of actually playing with the people, she would design the homes and make them really nice (and really expensive). Basically, she had the life I wish I could have had. Only, I didn't want to be an Interior Designer.
Actually, I don't know what I would like to do for a career. I suppose it doesn't really matter too much though. I would be spending my life running from the monsters that did this to me. Although, on the bright side, if you could even call it the bright side, I did get to see a lot of pretty places. Like the Pacific on the coast of California. And the city view from the really tall sky scrapers in some very busy cities. But I never got to stay long, because the Silver Liner's have been hunting me down since the day I escaped. Though I've been fortunate these past three months. This is the longest I've gone without them finding me.
I can always tell who's a Silver Liner, who's a Shifter, an Advanced Shifter- like myself- and just a normal human. Always.
When they were doing the series of procedures on me, the scientist who worked at the awful facility, they did something wrong. It hasn't harmed me or impaired me in any way, shape or form. I just have an extra ability. I can take a look at anybody, whether I've met them or not, and know absolutely everything about them. Like with Amelia and Tim. But it's not just people.
With objects, I know all the trivial things. Who owns it, whether it was stolen or not, where it was manufactured, when it was made, the location of the store it was bought in... everything.
And I thought it was strange thonight, how I had to ask him questions instead of just knowing... Oh God. I couldn't "see" him, I realized. I didn't know anything about him other than what he'd told me, and there was no way of knowing if that was the truth or not. This was dangerous, for me, for him, and for everyone else around us.
My mind reeled. Oh God. No, this couldn't be happening now. But it was. He obviously knew. That's why he chose to sit at my table today. And it was just fate that he sat beside me in most of my classes; or was it?. He had been watching me when I was walking home from Rotary. He was probably watching me when I was at Rotary, too. God, that would've been embarrasing.
My mind flashed through the last two years, remembering all the bad times, and the few good times there were.
"You won't be able to 'see' any compulsionist ever again. You think you're so smart, so great, because you know everything. But you're not! And you never will be." Her eyes glowed ferociously before I blacked out that horrible night.
And then I knew why I couldn't see him. He was a compulsionist! This was very dangerous now. If I wasn't careful, if I did anything wrong... this could end badly.
I decided I needed to leave. but... I couldn't. Not yet. I didn't understand why, but my gut was telling me not to go just yet. Usually, listening to my gut was a good thing. I sighed in defeat.
I would stay for tomorrow, but I would go out of my way to avoid Carson if I could. I wouldn't draw attention to myself, or do anything to let him know I'm on to him. If it was avoidable, that is. I would just avoid him. And, if luck served me right, he would think it was because of the events that occurred this evening. Maybe this night wasn't so bad after all.