FOUR

Classes  had  ended  for the  day, and  Timothy  wondered  why  Stephanie  didn’t attend  today’s  class.  Does it  really take  that  long to  paint? He thought. He decided to go over to her house and check up on the project. It took a few minutes before he arrived. He rang the doorbell and a man answered.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I’m Timothy Adams,  Stephanie’s  classmate. I just wanted to drop by and check on our project.”

“I’m Stephanie’s  father.” He said  and extended  his hand out and Timothy shook it. “Stephanie’s not here. She’s in the hospital.”

Timothy was shocked. “What happened to her?”

“She had another attack yesterday.”

“Attack?”

“Ever  since she was a kid she’s been experiencing it; poor kid. I’m heading to the hospital. Do you want to see her?”

He nodded.

They both  got into  the car  and Mr. Cross  drove  them both  to  the hospital. Her room was on the sixth floor, so they both took the elevator. Mr. Cross led him to her door and opened it.

“Go on in.” he said. “I’ll be a while. I have to talk to her doctor.”

Timothy  nodded and went in. Mr. Cross closed the door.  Timothy neared the bed and  saw her.  Her eyes  were closed  and she  was breathing  heavily.  Her  forehead  was sweaty and her hair clung to it.  He reached out and brushed it away. A few seconds later, her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes focused and landed on Timothy.  She gasped and sat up, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“What are you doing here?” She breathed out.

“I… I went over to your house and ran into your dad.” He stuttered. “He drove me over here.”

To his  surprise,  her eyes  welled  up with  tears.  She tore her eyes away from his and curled  up into a ball. She hid her face and started crying. She didn’t make any sound; her whole body was just trembling. He started panicking. What do I do? He thought.

“Uh… do you need anything? Do you want me to get you something? The doctor? The nurse? Your father?”

She  shook her  head at every  question.  Then she  stopped  trembling. She looked up  and  started  wiping  her  eyes.  She looked  at  him  and  opened  her  mouth  to  s a y something.  But  her lip  trembled  and she  closed  it again.  She shut her eyes tightly and tried to control her self.

“I…” she said, her voice cracking.

“Do you want me to get you water?” he said.

She  shook  her  head.  “I want to tell  you something,  but I  don’t  know  if… if  I should. I trust you… I can’t keep it bottled up anymore.”

He sat down on the bed and listened.

“My father is going to die in a collision or something like that.” She said.

He looked at her disbelievingly. “What?”

“I can feel  things.”  She said. “When I look at someone, about a week before they die, I  can feel their pain. Last night, I saw my father, and I… I felt like I’d been slammed into a wall. He’s going to die… soon.” She cried.

Timothy  shook his  head. “What the hell are you talking about? This is nonsense! You’re talking crazy!”

“I’m not! Believe me. I…” she broke down again.

He jumped off the bed and looked at her like she was crazy.

“Look,”  she said.  “I’ve been  experiencing  this  since I  was a little girl. I… I’ve been given this… this curse!”

“No. You’re mad.”

“I’m not!” she cried.  “I shouldn’t have told you. You’re not listening to me! Why do you  think  I’ve pushed  everything  away?  Everything  ends, and  I’m the only person who  knows it.”  She jumped  off the  bed  but her  knees gave  in  and  she fell down. She didn’t try to get up. She just stayed on the floor, face down, crying.

Timothy  stared  at her.  She  seemed  genuinely  upset  to be making it up. I can’t believe  I’m doing  this… he thought.  He  knelt down  beside  her  and gently touched her shoulder.  She  recoiled,  shying  away  from  h i m.  He  persisted,  shifting  nearer  a n d positioned her properly so he could lift her back  up to the bed. She cried quietly, shaking in his arms.

“You’re not making this up?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Okay.” He whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry.”

Her face  was flushed from crying. She lifted her arms and used them to cover her face.  A few  minutes  later  she was  asleep  again.  He  thought  she was  in an  awkward position,  so he  moved  her so  she  wouldn’t  wake up  with any cramps. He didn’t know why he accepted her story. He could have just left, thinking she was crazy, and never talk to her again.  But there  was  something  about  this girl  that  seemed  fragile.  Like,  in  a moment  she would  crumble  and disappear. He didn’t know why he cared. Maybe it was because  it  was  her  all  along.  It  was  her  who  had  come  into  his  life  and  w o u l d drastically  change it. It was her who would make living worthwhile, make him stay a bit. He  didn’t  love her.  No  attraction  like that  at all.  But it  was  something stronger. Fate, maybe.

Destiny.

 

           . . .

 

When Stephanie woke up, she saw her father sleeping on the steel chair beside the bed. She sat up and saw  Timothy standing at the foot of the bed, looking at her. Her heart was beating fast.

“What?” she said.

He didn’t say anything; he just looked at her crossly.

“Are you angry at me?” she whispered.

“You almost made my heart act up again.” He said.

“Sorry.”

They were quiet again. Then she broke the silence.

“Can I call you Tim?” she asked.

“I don’t like being called that. It sounds puny.”

“Well, your name is kind of a mouthful.”

“Fine. Can I call you Steph?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Why did you come?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can leave if you want.”

“No.”  She  said,  raising her hand to stop him from  inching to the door.  “I  didn’t mean  that.  I was just  saying why  you  came  here  in the  hospital, to visit me, a perfect stranger.  And after I told you the truth, which, in logical terms, sounds like a lie, you still stayed.”

“To tell the truth, I don’t know really. But what’s done is done.”

“Aren’t your parents worried? I mean, what time is it?”

“It’s eight.”

“P.M.?”

He nodded.

“Aren’t your parents worried?”

“No. I don’t care anyway. I’m gonna leave soon.”

“Leave?” she said. “When?”

“I don’t know. Soon, maybe. I’ll just disappear.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to you.”

She nodded and smiled understandingly. But he saw that he had hurt her.

“I’m sorry.”  He said.  “I told  you, I’m  really leaving.  And I  don’t  want  to  get attached with anybody. Nothing, no attachments. It will be hard to say goodbye.”

She sighed. “I understand. But before you leave, give me a heads up, okay?”

He chuckled smugly. “I told you, it’s hard to say goodbye.”

“I’m not saying you’ll have to. Just, give me a heads up so I can prepare myself.”

He laughed.

Her  father  grunted,  waking  from his sleep. They both got quiet. It was weird for her to  talk to  someone  who she  didn’t  know  very well. But then, she knew more about him  than she knew  about  anybody  else. It felt different to know something about some-body that no body else knew.

“You want me to grab us guys some dinner?” her father said.

“Sure, dad.” She said.

“Uh, thanks Mr. Cross, but I think I really should be heading home now.” Timothy said.

“Oh, of course. Do you want me to drive you home?”

“No thanks, Mr. Cross.”

 

“I’m home.” Timothy called once he stepped into the house.

“Where have you been?” his mother cried, running down the stairs.

“Young man, you have explaining to do.” His father boomed, appearing from the study room.

“Didn’t you get my text? I visited my friend in the hospital.”

“We’ve been worried sick about you.” His mother added.

“You weren’t worried sick when Anthony stayed out late months ago.”

“Anthony said he was going to go out with his friends.” His mother told him.

Like I don’t know.

“And you lied.” His father said.

“He was stupid. We both were.” He shot back.

“Don’t talk about your brother that way!” his mother scolded.

Timothy ran up the stairs and to his room.

Guilt, is something that can linger for a long time, especially when it involves and affects the people you love. It can  eat your insides, till you’re left empty. His eyes shifted around  the room  and landed  on the  bust  of his  brother.  He wanted to march over to it, break it  to pieces, throw it away. But a brotherly bond couldn’t break that easily. And his remorse  of his  irresponsibility  of taking  care of his older brother was what made every-thing  more difficult.  Older  brother  or not, they  were  equals,  twins. And  he  knew  he could have helped. It was his fault. His fault that his brother died.

Secrets,  can bring  you closer to someone, others can separate you. Steph had told him one of hers, and he had turned her away when he had the opportunity to tell his story. Could he tell her?  Should he tell her? Would it make him look like a monster? But, as he said  earlier, why  would he have to  explain himself to her? She was a complete stranger. No attachments.  He had promised  himself. Should  he give  her a chance?  Would  s h e interfere with his plans? Would she ruin everything?

 

Stephanie woke up in the cold and white room of the hospital.

“Dad?” she whispered.

“You’re awake?” his voice said. He was again seated on the steel chair.

“I want to go home.” She whimpered.

“Soon, kid. Soon.” He said, patting her head.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Steph.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“I’m sorry for the past years. You know, when I drifted off.”

“It’s okay, kid. You’re a teenager after all. It’s just a phase. And I guess there was a reason behind it. Maybe it was my drinking.”

“Naw. If mom was here we wouldn’t be miserable... How was she?”

“She  was great.  She loved  you very  much. She  was excited when she found out you were coming. She would have been a great mother.”

Stephanie  never realized  her father’s  soft side.  It was a  long time since she had asked about her mother. And the first time  her father had  talked freely  about her mother without  being  angry.  She  realized  how he  really  loved her,  and how  they both really missed her. She regretted not being close to her father. But her secret had separated them. It was her fault, and now she was going to lose him.

It was  then that an idea entered her mind. She could save him. She could defy the odds. She  had an  advantage,  knowing what would cause his death. But would she crack under  the  pressure?  Could she  really  deal with the stress? Should she ask for help? All she had to do was convince her  father not to go into any car. But what could she say as to not sound crazy?

 

“You’re crazy!” Tim said.

It  was a  Saturday  afternoon; six  hours after Stephanie came home. She had told him her  plan.  They were  in a  nearby  ice cream  parlor,  a  block  away from her house.

“You can’t defy destiny.” He said.

“I can  try.  Please?  Help me,  please?”  She begged.  “You know more about cars more than I do. Just, do something that will requite it to be in repair for a few weeks.”

“I can’t destroy your dad’s car.”

“I’m giving you permission.”

“Who gave you permission to give me permission?”

“Look,  all I want to do is what’s right. I know something, and there’s something I can do about it. I’m asking for your help, because he’s all I have left.”

He was silent, then looked at her sadly. “Okay.”

“Thanks. I don’t  know what I’ll do without him. If he dies, who knows where I’ll end up?”

“What happened anyway? Why is it only you two?”

“My mother  died when I  was still an infant. People said I look like her. Which is why, I guess, my father never looked at me that much.”

“I don’t  look at  myself  much  either.”  Tim  whispered.  “I look  exactly like my brother.  Half of  me is  a ghost.  I remember  people used to like him more than me. But I didn’t mind.  I hate  attention.  He was  more  adventurous,  which  was why he also died. After he’d gone, people started paying more attention to me, giving me condolences.”

He stared angrily out the window “Can we talk about something else?”

“I finished out project.” She said. “Do you want to see it?”

He nodded.

They both stood up from the table and walked out of the parlor.

 

Stephanie opened the door of her room and they both entered.

“Sorry for the mess.” She said.

He chuckled. “Your room reminds me of mine.”

She led  him to  her painting  table where  their  project  was. It was beautiful. The sculpture was in the middle of the canvas. And it was no ordinary painting. It was kind of 3D. The canvas was painted with red and yellow roses. Green ivy climbed the base of the sculpture. She left the sculpture white, but painted the rings on their fingers gold.

“Wow.” He whispered.

She saw the way his eyes shifted from their project, to the paintings around her room. It landed on the painting above the headboard of her bed.

“Who’s that?” he said.

“That’s my mother. I found a picture of her, and enlarged it on my canvas.”

“She does look like you.”

They both had the same long, brown hair, and the same emerald eyes. But their expressions were different. Her mother’s eyes always seemed to smile, even if her lips weren’t turned up. But  Steph’s always  had a sad  tinge,  because  almost  everyday,  she could feel the pain of what she could see around her.

 

Timothy saw the way she looked sorrowfully at her mother’s portrait. It was more difficult  for him  though;  Stephanie didn’t know her mother. But losing a brother, a half, was more difficult, because he had spent eighteen years of his life with him. But who was he to  judge?  She had  grown up  without  a mother,  and  the  indifferent  presence of her father.

“You’re stronger than you think.” He said.

“You don’t even know me.” She replied.

“No, I don’t. But still, here we are, finding ourselves in the same situation.”

“No. Our circumstances are different; both difficult in their own way.”

Reviews

[clairvoyantmars]

steph's dark secret is revealed, and she asks help from tim to stop what her "power" has told her.