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I swallow nervously and move around uncomfortably on the swing. “I…I don’t know…,” I let my voice trail off for the lack of a sensible defense. “They are saying I was hexed or something,” I finally supply, shrugging helplessly.
The sound of Bones’ humorless laughter bounces mockingly around the walls of my head. “That’s the annoying part right there,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “You are not fucking owning up to your crimes. Don’t you think it’s high time you stopped hiding behind the voodoo and make up for the stuff you did? The others may believe this charade of yours and go on as if everything is fucking normal, but let me tell you the truth. You’ve killed and destroyed the lives of men. You don’t get to play cool girl around here while that bastard dicks us around. You are Anderson’s minion, and I don’t fucking trust you. You could be a spy for all we know. I’ve got my eyes on you. Just one move and I’ll snap your pretty little neck. Even Prez won’t be able to stop me then.”
With that said, he gets up and stalks away from me. I watch him go until he disappears around a curve that leads to the back of the main building. And even long after he’s gone, I’m still sitting in the same spot. I stare into space with his same words bouncing around my head over and over again.
You have killed and destroyed the lives of men.
Me?
* * *
Pocus
Ipuff out a thick wad of white smoke, letting myself get lost in the rich view of unending green pastures.
I love the view from the clubhouse’s porch the most. It truly is magnificent.
There was a time when I used to be comforted by the therapeutic lushness of the tall green trees, the scenic swings in the distance, and the ever-peeping sun behind the cherry blue clouds. On some days, I’d stare mindlessly at the picturesque view for hours, drawing from its abundance of tranquility.
Today though… No matter how hard I stare, I feel nothing, just the gnawing emptiness in my chest and overlapping thoughts in my head.
Too much is happening all at once. I feel like I’m gradually losing my fucking mind. There are so many ticking time bombs just waiting to explode in my face and fuck me up for good.
I take another drag from my cigar and slowly roll the rich minty smoke around my mouth before letting it all out in a whoosh.
Fuck, I miss the refreshing scent of tobacco. Why the hell did I stay away for so long again?
I hear the sound of the door open and close. I look up to see Seer leaning by the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. He gestures at the cigar between my fingers and raises his brows pointedly. “I thought you quit that.”
I shrug, throwing him an unrepentant smirk. “Today makes it exactly six months since I quit. I thought I’d celebrate my win with a drag…or two.”
Seer snickers and lowers himself onto one of the porch chairs. “That makes sense, I guess.”
I held the cigarette out to him. “Want a drag?”
Seer stared at the burning orange tip in contemplative silence. I could feel him rapidly losing the battle against his good senses. “Fuck it, brother. Pass me the shit.”
He reached out to take the cigar. His fingers brush lightly over mine, and he freezes. His chilly blue eyes lose their focus as he slowly slips away from the present into a random moment in the future.
I stab the cigar into the ashtray on the ledge beside me. Ignoring the knot of distress in my chest, I pour myself a shot of whiskey while I wait for Seer to come out of his vision.
I hope it’s not one that causes him pain.
Sometimes Seer comes out of his visions with severe pains or emotional traumas that have nothing to do with him in the first place. It’s one of the side effects of his visions, suffering the same fate as the one whom the vision is meant for.
Seer’s body jerks a little, and life seeps back into his eyes. He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes with a deep sigh.
“You okay,” I ask quietly.
Seer opens his eyes and smiles weakly at me. “Yeah…I would have loved a drag of that, though,” he says, gesturing at the cigar stub in the ashtray with a regretful expression.
I pour some whiskey into my empty glass and hand it to him. “This should do about the same job, mon ami.”
Seer downs the shot. “Damn,” he mutters with a satisfied smile. “Whiskey has a way of hitting the spot every fucking time.”
“Was it very bad?” I didn’t need to mention what I was asking about. Seer knew exactly what I was talking about. “You suddenly look exhausted.”
Seer shakes his head a little and runs a hand down his face with a ragged sigh. “There was a huge commotion, and you were in the center of it all.”
