I am probably one of the oddest people you will ever meet. To prove that though, lets start at the beginning.
My parents were your average, everyday kind of people. Father worked in retail, mother ran a bakery. They had two children. Elise, who was 9; and Marko who was 4. They had the typical two-story brick house, with a two car garage, and an average sized front porch. Their neighbors had known them for years and they were said to be quaint and quiet. Everything seemed perfect. Until I was born.
My parents were your average, everyday kind of people. Father worked in retail, mother ran a bakery. They had two children. Elise, who was 9; and Marko who was 4. They had the typical two-story brick house, with a two car garage, and an average sized front porch. Their neighbors had known them for years and they were said to be quaint and quiet. Everything seemed perfect. Until I was born.
Like my family, I looked normal and seemed quite normal as well. When I was around two years old, my parents began to worry that something might be wrong. Mostly because, I never made a sound. Not a coo, not a laugh, not even a squeak. A year later, after many tests, the doctors where stumped as to why I wouldn't make a noise. Almost 30 years later and doctors still can't figure out why I can't speak. However, for my poor parents, this was just the beginning. When I was 4 years old, my mother's mother died. Unable to find a babysitter, my parents took their children to the wake. It was your typical, boring get together. Crappy food, crappy conversation, the whole lot. The whole thing came crashing to a halt when I started talking to, what appeared to be, the corner of the room. When asked who I was talking to, I simply pointed to the casket, then back to where I was facing. Needless to say, my family and I quickly left. After that, my family tried their best to think of reasons for my "strange behavior". I never really found it strange. So I could see dead people, big whoop. However, for my family, it was an increasingly uncomfortable thing.
When I was 10, our neighbor's wife died while taking a bath. The doctors and husband agreed it was an accident. She just simply fell asleep and drowned. I knew the truth though, because she told me. Her husband had killed her because he was having an affair and wanted her insurance money. When I told my father that, he damn near fainted. My mother actually fainted when, 3 weeks later while we were watching the news, the reporter said the exact thing that I originally stated had happened.
My siblings were not always like my parents. At first my brother, Marko, thought my abilities were "cool". We use to play make believe that we were the Ghost Busters. My sister mostly thought we were both annoying, but equally so, so I never felt different with them. Again, that changed when I turned 14. I started having dreams. Terrible dreams. Of car accidents, tornadoes, factory fires, body counts after terrorist attacks. I would sometimes wake up screaming at the top of my lungs. My parents took me into the doctors, again, and they convinced them that it was normal. That some teenagers could have vivid dreams. Happy that for once I wasn't a freak, we went home.
As it seems though, nothing was normal about me. A few weeks after the doctor appointment, I had a "dream" while in school. It was of an SUV running over a girl in my class. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I was covered in sweat. I remember looking around my classroom and everyone was staring at me. Apparently, I had been screaming. Terrified of seeming like even more of a freak to my family, I never told them about my waking dreams. Two days later, a girl in my class was killed by a drunk driver. He drove an SUV. It was after that, that I realized, that I was even more of a freak than I thought. That by some horrible occurrence, I could see the future.
The ending to the story of my family was when I was about 16. I had a premonition that my father was going to be shot at a gas station. Later that night, my mom asked my father to go get a gallon of milk at our local gas station just down the road. I begged him not to go. I pleaded, screamed, cried, threatened, everything. The more I tried telling him why he shouldn't go, the more determined he was to go. My father never came back from that gas station. He was shot getting into his car by someone who was going to rob the store and thought he was a cop. After that, my mother couldn't stand to look at me. She believed that it was somehow my fault. A week later, I dropped out of school and left home.
Things were hard for a few years. Living on the streets is tough when you are a mute teenager. When I was 19, an old lady name Rosna, who owned a bookshop, took me in. It was called Borges' Books. Named after her late husband. She had be running the store alone for 15 years. I had a room in the back and 3 meals a day. She also gave me $100 at the end of the week. At first, I was leery about her. Not because I thought she would harm me, no. At 6'6, I knew I could hold my own. I was afraid of what would happen if she learned of my abilities. It took us sometime to get to know one another but, eventually, I told her what I could do. It turned out that she was a descendant of a long line of voodoo priestesses. When she was younger, she use to create spells and incantations for people. It was actually how she met her husband. After that, it was the first place that ever felt like home. Even when I grew up and moved out onto my own, I was never far from Rosna.
When I was 25, I was contacted by Psiforce to work for them. My clairvoyance and ability to see the dead was something they were in need of. I spent the next 4 years learning how to fight with weapons and in hand to hand combat. My official title is Intelligence Analyst but I pretty much go and do everything.
Rosna is still alive and well. Though she can no longer see due to old age. It makes communicating with each other hard as I can see fine but I can't speak. We make it work though.
See? I told you I'm the oddest person you'll ever meet.
When I was 10, our neighbor's wife died while taking a bath. The doctors and husband agreed it was an accident. She just simply fell asleep and drowned. I knew the truth though, because she told me. Her husband had killed her because he was having an affair and wanted her insurance money. When I told my father that, he damn near fainted. My mother actually fainted when, 3 weeks later while we were watching the news, the reporter said the exact thing that I originally stated had happened.
My siblings were not always like my parents. At first my brother, Marko, thought my abilities were "cool". We use to play make believe that we were the Ghost Busters. My sister mostly thought we were both annoying, but equally so, so I never felt different with them. Again, that changed when I turned 14. I started having dreams. Terrible dreams. Of car accidents, tornadoes, factory fires, body counts after terrorist attacks. I would sometimes wake up screaming at the top of my lungs. My parents took me into the doctors, again, and they convinced them that it was normal. That some teenagers could have vivid dreams. Happy that for once I wasn't a freak, we went home.
As it seems though, nothing was normal about me. A few weeks after the doctor appointment, I had a "dream" while in school. It was of an SUV running over a girl in my class. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I was covered in sweat. I remember looking around my classroom and everyone was staring at me. Apparently, I had been screaming. Terrified of seeming like even more of a freak to my family, I never told them about my waking dreams. Two days later, a girl in my class was killed by a drunk driver. He drove an SUV. It was after that, that I realized, that I was even more of a freak than I thought. That by some horrible occurrence, I could see the future.
The ending to the story of my family was when I was about 16. I had a premonition that my father was going to be shot at a gas station. Later that night, my mom asked my father to go get a gallon of milk at our local gas station just down the road. I begged him not to go. I pleaded, screamed, cried, threatened, everything. The more I tried telling him why he shouldn't go, the more determined he was to go. My father never came back from that gas station. He was shot getting into his car by someone who was going to rob the store and thought he was a cop. After that, my mother couldn't stand to look at me. She believed that it was somehow my fault. A week later, I dropped out of school and left home.
Things were hard for a few years. Living on the streets is tough when you are a mute teenager. When I was 19, an old lady name Rosna, who owned a bookshop, took me in. It was called Borges' Books. Named after her late husband. She had be running the store alone for 15 years. I had a room in the back and 3 meals a day. She also gave me $100 at the end of the week. At first, I was leery about her. Not because I thought she would harm me, no. At 6'6, I knew I could hold my own. I was afraid of what would happen if she learned of my abilities. It took us sometime to get to know one another but, eventually, I told her what I could do. It turned out that she was a descendant of a long line of voodoo priestesses. When she was younger, she use to create spells and incantations for people. It was actually how she met her husband. After that, it was the first place that ever felt like home. Even when I grew up and moved out onto my own, I was never far from Rosna.
When I was 25, I was contacted by Psiforce to work for them. My clairvoyance and ability to see the dead was something they were in need of. I spent the next 4 years learning how to fight with weapons and in hand to hand combat. My official title is Intelligence Analyst but I pretty much go and do everything.
Rosna is still alive and well. Though she can no longer see due to old age. It makes communicating with each other hard as I can see fine but I can't speak. We make it work though.
See? I told you I'm the oddest person you'll ever meet.