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It was the first day of class and I froze when the professor walked in. I had seen him the night before, screaming in pain as a fire enveloped him. I had gasped and ran out of the classroom, tears streaming down my face. I was usually able to better control my reactions when seeing the people in my visions in real life, but his death had been particularly gruesome.
Sarah had followed me out of the classroom and everything I was holding in burst out. She had stayed quiet as the words rushed out of me, the visions of death, meeting my visions in real life. As I finished and looked up at her, expecting to find disbelief or revulsion, she had given me a small smile.
“I don’t really understand it. And it sounds a little scary.” Sarah paused and took a deep breath. “Actually, it sounds a lot scary. But there’s a lot we don’t know about this world. About how our minds work. I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. But that doesn’t change you - the Caitlin I know. You’re still the funny girl who watches infomercials and cooks a mean pot of spaghetti sauce.”
With those words, I understood that I had finally found someone who I could trust. And slowly my trust in Sarah grew as she kept her word and didn’t look at me like a freak when I would shudder when I met someone new, knowing what I was experiencing. And miraculously, the visions grew less and less frequent until they were a rare occurrence by the end of my sophomore year. And junior year had been a brilliant respite, with no visions at all. I hadn't questioned why they stopped, I was just grateful they had.
I hadn’t told Sarah that I had started experiencing visions again this past summer while I was interning for a financial firm back in my hometown of Philadelphia. She had been so relieved and happy for me when the weight of the visions had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her they had come back. Besides, there had only been a few visions, and I had only had one since school started. I was hoping it would stay that way.
My almost complete honesty and Sarah's acceptance was why I could be so comfortable with her. She was the one person who really knew me. And so we finished making dinner in comfortable ease, Sarah putting the salad together while I simmered my Bolognese sauce, along with baking a new batch of garlic bread.
“Oh, crap!” Sarah exclaimed, glancing down at her watch. “It’s almost seven o'clock! I need to change!”
I glanced over at her and smiled. Sarah was wearing jeans and a red sweater that complemented her athletic figure and pixie haircut.
“What are you changing into, a ball gown? You look fine, Sarah! This isn’t dinner at the White House. It’s friends schlepping over for a Friday night celebratory dinner for making it through the week.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Sarah. “My motto is always dress to impress, no matter what the occasion. Besides, Grant is bringing his cousin with him tonight. He transferred from Yale and he's staying with Marcus and Grant while he figures out his housing. If Grant is any indication, his cousin is going to be a hottie.” She wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis.
I laughed as I wiped my hands on a dishcloth. “I fear for the safety of Grant’s cousin’s heart. Or chastity.” I pressed my lips together and cocked my head. “I wonder why he transferred here from Yale. I mean, we’re not exactly in the Ivy League tier.”
Maxwell University was a small prestigious college known for its arts and music school but it was nowhere near the leagues of Yale. I had decided to attend Maxwell University because of the scholarship that covered most of my school cost. The rest I paid with loans and a part time job at a local cafe.
“Grant said his cousin and his father were always at odds with what he wanted to do and I guess transferring here is his way of rebelling,” Sarah revealed. She looked down at my outfit. “You should change too. What if you and his cousin hit it off, and then you guys get married and Grant and I get married? Then we’d be related!” Sarah squealed and jumped up and down.
I laughed indulgently, looking down at my outfit. My jeans and blue t-shirt with Oscar the Grouch wasn’t going to win me any beauty pageants, but the last thing I wanted to do was impress a guy. Men were distractions that I didn’t want during college. It was enough to have friends who I cared about. Besides, dating turned into relationships which was an intimacy that I wasn’t ready for. I couldn’t imagine having to explain to a boyfriend why I was crazy and had visions.
“You know I have no interest in dating right now. It’s enough keeping up with everyone else's love life. Besides, I thought our plan was to meet twin brothers in our
late twenties and then get married.”
“Oh well,” Sarah shrugged. “We can always move up the timeline. And you’d impress in any outfit, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
I rolled my eyes as I stirred the meat sauce. Sarah was always on me about so-and-so being interested in me and how I should take notice. It’s not that I was completely oblivious and I knew I was attractive enough. My Korean mother and Norwegian father had given me an exotic look that somehow also seemed girl next door. My long black hair and thin figure was from my mother, but my large brown eyes and pale complexion were compliments of my father. At five feet and five inches, I was neither tall nor short. Average. I figured myself pretty average in most respects and I was okay with that, especially since I wasn’t average in the one area that I desperately wanted to be.
Sarah went to her room to change and I walked into the living room to close the window that I had opened to air out Sarah’s latest culinary disaster. As I gripped the bottom sill of the window to push it closed, I shivered as a sudden chill went through my body as my gaze was suddenly transfixed on my reflection in the window. My heart started pumping faster as I felt an unnatural stillness. I stared into the reflection of my eyes, feeling as if I was in a trance.
“Hey,” yelled Sarah down the hall. “Can I borrow your perfume? I'm all out."
Sarah’s voice broke through the trance and I shook my head. I must be just feeling the effects of the cold night air drafting in through the window.
“Sure,” I replied as I closed the window, but I was unable to completely dismiss the feeling of foreboding.
**********
By the time Sarah had changed and come back out, I had mixed the spaghetti with the Bolognese sauce in a big bowl. I placed it on our small breakfast table that was in the corner of our living room, along with garlic bread and the salad Sarah had prepared.
“It smells great!” Sarah exclaimed. “Especially my salad,” she said with a wink.
“Of course,” I smirked “You cut some mean lettuce.”
Our doorbell rang and Sarah rushed over to the door to open it, revealing Jenny. She was clutching a bottle of wine as she walked in, bringing a gust of cold air in with her.
"Hey Jenny," greeted Sarah. "Right on time."
Jenny shuffled in, taking her coat off and laying it on the back of the couch. Jenny was a frequent visitor to our apartment so she made herself at home, plopping down on the couch.
"I will never get over these winters," grumbled Jenny. "This kind of cold is not normal."
