Chapter 3 : Scars

I walked through the hospital and still nobody paid any mind to the 5'7 chic who was walking down the hallway.

How can nobody see me? I just don't understand it. I'm not invisible. I looked around. There was this girl who was looking in my direction…. No, she was looking at me… Me.

So she saw me?

I was there.

So….who was having the issues?

Was I invisible or were they just not looking?

I walked up to the chic.

She was short, well shorter than me, with deathly pale skin and the girl had long straight black hair that fell to her hips… She looked sickly… She was also so skinny… Basically just skin and bones… Like she had been starved… And she had these dark eyes that looked so dull and depressed…. Her eyes almost looked black in the lighting… Her eyes were so…

Empty…

I walked over to her, but she just averted her eyes and stared at down at her feet.

Coincidence?

Was I just hallucinating?

Or did she really not see me?

I decided to just kept walking and walked out of the doors of the hospital.

I had to figure out what the hell was going on.

I mean, surely I wasn't dead. Death can't be this confusing. Everybody always says that death is a release.

A peace.

A rest.

It makes everything be okay, and this was not okay.

I still felt my pain.

I still felt everybody's emotions.

I haven't been released of my empathy.

I was still an empath…

And that sucked.

Royally.

I hated having to feel the emotions of everybody around me…

I'm pretty sure if my mom wouldn't have taught me how to block it then my brain would have exploded.

The rest of the flock is sooo lucky, they doesn't have to deal with feeling the emotions of everyone around you… Plus your own emotions…

And thanks to the great memory, all day every day all that happens is the explosion replays in my mind, over and over.

Me being right there, in the parking lot when the car burst into flames.

Screaming as I saw my mother's death.

They say that the there was a gas that was released when the engine started, right before the explosion.

They say that she was instantly killed, but I swear I heard her scream.

I swear I saw the panic in her eyes.

I swear felt her pain as she knew that it was over.

She wouldn't get to see her seven-year-old twins grow up….

And I was standing there.

Not ten foot from her.

To this day I hate myself because I swear that there has to be something I could have done to save her.

There has to be something that I could have done to save my mother…

I looked around…

I was sitting on some pavement, behind some old building.

There was nobody around.

I looked around and saw my pocket knife laying near…

I picked it up… And pulled up my sleeve of my shirt… Then I ran the blade across my arm…

I watched the crimson pour from my arm…

I felt the relief…

I couldn't be dead and still feel this much pain… I just couldn't…

I looked up and there was the girl that I saw earlier, staring at my now bloody arm…