Parallel Visions (5 page)

I take a step closer.

The glass is gone. It ’
s just a bare photo stuck in the frame.

I look down at the floor and see fragments of glass lodged in the crack between the molding and the wall.

Goosebumps rise on my skin.

“
I ’
m telling the truth!
”
I say, pushing my plate away. I ’
m starting to wheeze.

“
Did you see it happen?
”
Dad asks around his mouthful.
“
Did you actually see Mason hit her?
”

I look down at my unfinished spaghetti. It ’
s my favorite meal, but I have no appetite left.
“
Yes. Well, no. I mean, not in person. I saw it...in one of my visions.
”

“
Not the visions again, ”
Mom says, putting her fork down.
“
I understood it when you were little. You needed a distraction from being sick. But you ’
re sixteen, now, Kate. You need to be more responsible. And mature.
”

“
I ’
m not making it up!
”
I say, wheezing harder. I need more details, something that will make them believe me. But if Jenna won ’
t talk to me, how can I convince them unless I have another vision?

“
Take a breath, ”
Mom says, pulling her chair closer to mine.
“
Breathe in slowly.
”

“
Elizabeth, give her some space.
”
Dad says, tearing off a hunk of garlic bread.
“
Let her deal with it on her own. Babying her isn ’
t going to help her grow out of it.
”

“
You heard what the doctor said; people don ’
t just grow out of asthma, ”
Mom snaps.
“
And you know how bad it can get if we don ’
t intervene. Have you forgotten all those trips to the hospital?
”

“
I ’
m fine, ”
I say loudly, trying not to wheeze.
“
But Jenna isn ’
t.
”

“
What do you mean?
”
Mom asks.

“
I told you. Mason ’
s hurting her.
”

“
Breathe slowly, honey. We ’
re trying to understand.
”

I
’
m wheezing louder, my chest tight and heavy.
“
It ’
s not hard to understand! He ’
s beating her.
”

“
Did Jenna tell you that?
”
Dad asks.

“
No. But that doesn ’
t mean anything!
”

“
Kate, honey, calm down, ”
Dad says.
“
You know Mason is not my favorite person—far from it. But if something like this were happening, Jenna would tell me.
”

“
Right, because she used to tell you everything. But that was before Mason!
”

Mom plays with her watch, unbuckling it and then buckling it back up again. She knows I ’
m right—Jenna has grown more and more distant from all of us since she and Mason got together.

“
Jenna and I still talk, ”
Dad says.
“
Kate, you can ’
t let yourself get worked up like this. You know it just makes your asthma worse.
”

Maybe that
’
s not such a bad thing if it helps me prove Jenna ’
s in danger. But I hate struggling for air, and feeling like I might die. Knowing I can .

“
I ’
m telling you the truth.
”
I scrape back my chair and stand, wheezing.
“
When are you going to start believing me?
”
I wheeze louder, my airways squeezing tight, and then I ’
m gasping.

Mom already has my spare inhaler out and primed. She pushes it into my hand and I squeeze down, inhaling as deep as I can before I wheeze again.

The living room grows fuzzy, Mom and Dad becoming hazy spots of color and light. I fight it, but I ’
m still pulled deeper, my pulse hammering in my neck, the room blurring in front of me, the vision sharpening.

Mason walks down a long hall with a man in a white coat.
“
I ’
m really worried about my wife ’
s sister, Kate. She thinks she sees the future every time she has an asthma attack. I don ’
t know if she ’
s hallucinating, or psychotic, or what. Do you think you can help her?
”

The doctor rubs his chin.
“
Well, it could be something as simple as hypoxia, a lack of oxygen to the brain during her attacks. But I ’
d have to examine her to be sure.
”

Hypoxia? Lack of oxygen? Is this my brain ’
s way of telling me that my visions are nothing more than hallucinations? Or am I really seeing something Mason has done?

Mom
’
s rubbing my back, talking to me in that calm voice she uses when I have my attacks. It always makes me feel like I can breathe easier before I actually can. Meanwhile, Dad ’
s sitting there stiffly, watching us. I take another puff from my inhaler.

“
My wife ’
s so worried about Kate that she ’
s not sleeping, ”
Mason says.
“
So if I bring Kate in, you ’
ll see her?
”

“
Well, yes, if you can manage to bring her in, I ’
ll fit her into my schedule. But from what you ’
ve said, it doesn ’
t sound like she ’
ll want to come voluntarily.
”

“
I ’
ll find a way to get her here, ”
Mason tells him.

“
Then I ’
ll see her.
”

Mason clasps the doctor ’
s hand.
“
Thank you, doctor! You don ’
t know how much I appreciate this.
”

It
’
s hard to believe Mason would do that; he ’
s never been anything but nice to me. But he is overprotective of Jenna. And there ’
s a tiny part of me that never felt quite sure about him—but maybe that ’
s because he took Jenna away from me. Or maybe I am hallucinating.

But the glass in the frame was smashed. Doesn ’
t that prove my visions are real? Unless I ’
d subconsciously noticed it on my last visit and the vision was my mind ’
s way of trying to make sense of it.

Air starts to come easier now and I gasp it in.

“
Getting better?
”
Mom says, rubbing my back.

I nod.

I sink back onto my seat, my legs rubbery and weak like they get sometimes after an attack. Two attacks in one day is a lot. Mom hovers around me for a moment and then sits.

Dad leans forward.
“
You okay now, Kate-girl?
”

I nod.

“
Good. That ’
s good.
”
Dad leans back and straightens his tie.
“
Listen, you ’
ve got to be able to control your asthma, even when something upsets you. Because there ’
s always going to be things that upset you in your life.
”

I shove at my spaghetti with my fork.
“
I know. I haven ’
t had an attack for a while until today.
”
Yeah, like maybe a whole week.

“
Your mom and I are on your side. No matter what you do, we love you. But it ’
s Jenna ’
s word against yours on this. And if you are making this up, or you ’
ve got the details wrong for whatever reason, it ’
s better to let us know now, before things go too far.
”

I clench my inhaler. What ’
s too far? Jenna ending up in the hospital, or worse?

“
I ’
m telling the truth.
”
I stand.
“
I ’
m going to lie down. I ’
m tired.
”

“
Kate—”
Mom starts to get up.

“
Let her go, ”
Dad says.

I climb the stairs to my room and slam my door closed.

“
Leave it open!
”
Mom calls.
“
I want to know if you need me in the middle of the night. And don ’
t forget your last dose of medicine!
”

I open my door a crack, then flop down on my bed. My “
Keep Calm and Breathe Deeply ”
poster that Dad bought me stares mockingly at me. I pull out the scrap of paper Gil gave me and text him.
“
Parents don ’
t believe visions. Starting 2 doubt them.
”

My phone vibrates almost immediately.
“
Don ’
t doubt! U were right abt Inez. She ’
s thinking of suicide.
”

“
God. Sorry.
”

“
No. It ’
s good. At least she ’
s talking. Hope it ’
s enuf .
”

“
Hope so 2. But keep watch.
”

“
Yes. What visions don ’
t parents believe?
”

“
That sister ’
s husband beats her.
”

“
That ’
s serious. U have to do something.
”

“
Parents don ’
t believe. Jenna denies it. What next?
”

“
Call the cops.
”

I go cold. I can
’
t go through that again. My parents can ’
t, either. I see the flashing lights, the officers ’
suspicious looks, hear the radios squawking.
“
I can ’
t.
”

“
Y not?
”

I don
’
t want to go there.
“
Just not an option.
”

“
K. We ’
ll brainstorm 2morrow.
”

“
Thanx .
Nite .
”
I text.

“
Nite .
”

I feel calmer already, knowing Gil believes me, knowing we ’
ll figure this out together.

There
’
s a knock on my door. Mom pokes her head in.
“
How ’
s your breathing?
”

“
Fine. The inhaler worked. I ’
m sorry about before.
”

Mom walks in and sits down on my bed.
“
What are you sorry for? It ’
s not your fault you have asthma.
”

“
I don ’
t like it when you and Dad fight.
”

Mom squeezes my leg.
“
We just have different beliefs about how to help you. But we both love you. You know that, don ’
t you?
”

“
Yeah, I know.
”

“
Okay, then.
”
Mom pats my leg and stands.
“
Don ’
t forget to take your meds before bed.
”

“
Yeah, yeah, ”
I say.

Mom closes my door part way.

I pick up my cell again, staring at our texts. Gil has my back. I grin at my ceiling. We might even become friends!

The rumble of my parents ’
voices downstairs is comforting. I lean my head back against my pillow and close my eyes.