Prophecy Girl (2 page)

In place of a birthday visit, she got a present. It was another book that she added to her collection of books she had no desire to read. She placed it still partially wrapped on her desk.

Sick of her drab bedroom, she decided to visit the Recreation Room, and recognized the familiar face of Isaac Dodd, sitting at a table. He was sixteen and had been there for only a month. “Bones” is what the other residents called him. He was terribly skinny when he first arrived, and Eva overheard Dr. Lang telling Kate that he had been living on the streets. Isaac had gained some weight, but Eva could see how gaunt his face still looked. He seemed like a nice boy with long brown hair to his shoulders that he refused to have cut. 

When the nice nurse, Kate, brought out a pair of scissors, coaxing him for a trim, Isaac screamed and screamed, until Dr. Lang had to inject him with a sedative. Eva didn’t know what went on in the sessions between Isaac and Dr. Lang, but she assumed the issue of the scissors, and why he feared blades, came up. Something horrible had happened to him on the streets where he lived, begging for scraps. There was talk that he had a multiple personality disorder, but she never witnessed this. He was always nice to her when they crossed paths in the hall or ate in the cafeteria.

There weren’t any attendants near him, on guard for a possible freak-out, so Eva assumed Isaac couldn’t be
that
dangerous. Besides, he was only playing Solitaire.

She sat down across from him. “Hey, Isaac.”

He looked up with bright hazel eyes and smiled.  “Hey, Eva. I haven’t seen you around lately.”

She shrugged. “Been in my room a lot.”

His face fell. “Crying?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Yesterday, she had a vision of a young girl. Her chute failed to open, and she plummeted to the hard ground. Eva decided to never go parachuting…ever.

“I cry sometimes,” he admitted softly.

She reached her hand out to his, but didn’t touch. “Oh? What do you cry about?”

He blinked, and then he snarled his nose. “That’s none of your damn business!” 

She panicked, but slowly rose from the table, trying not to anger him. But then his face softened, and he looked confused.

“Hey, where are you going?” He flashed a card at her. “Want to play a game?” he asked sweetly.

She didn’t know what to do, but he seemed so calm, back to the Isaac Dodd she knew. She felt sorry for him, and decided to sit back down, despite every brain cell in her head shouting
Run!

“Sure. What kind of game?”

He shrugged. “How about poker?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Isaac dealt the cards. Eva received an ace, a two, a four, a seven, and a nine.

“How many?” he asked.

“Four please.” She took the worthless cards, besides the ace, and turned them down on the table.

He dealt her four cards and smiled. “Well, I think I know what you have.” He winked.

She tilted her head to the side. “Duh,” she teased.

Suddenly, he slammed his fists against the table, shot up, and leaned towards her, rearing his hand back, ready to strike. “I outta slap that smart mouth of yours, you BITCH!” 

She almost fell off her chair trying to run away. When she finally made it back to her room, the door was blocked. Dr. Lang stood with a man who she didn’t know. He was tall with receding black hair, and black-rimmed glasses, showing off his dark brown eyes. At her arrival, he took off his hat, a gray flat cap. He was wearing black pants, a white shirt, and a black tie that had a green shamrock pin stuck in the middle. He smelled of cigarette smoke, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

Despite the fact that he was a stranger, she felt very safe around him. The way he looked at her…it wasn’t like Dr. Lang. This man wasn’t studying her—he already knew her and understood her. At least, that’s what she thought. He signified change…hope…a sign. But she didn’t know why she felt this way towards a complete stranger.

“Eva, what’s wrong?” Dr. Lang asked, scrambling to find a blank piece of paper on his clipboard.

She shook her head. “Nothing…uh…it was Isaac.”

Dr. Lang almost dropped his clipboard. “What’d he do?”

“He shouted at me, but I didn’t do anything. I swear! We were just playing cards in the Rec Room.”

“I see.” Dr. Lang turned to the stranger, who had been fiddling with his shamrock tie pin. “I need to see to this. Will you excuse me?”

“By all means,” said the stranger, extending his hand towards the exit door.

Eva noticed that he seemed happy to be rid of the twitchy doctor. She liked him even more.

After Dr. Lang left, Eva asked, “Who are you? You’re not another doctor, are you?”

She had had her share of visiting psychiatrists that Dr. Lang brought in for a “fresh look” at his problem. 

“No, Eva, I’m not.”

She somehow knew that, but needed to hear it.

“Who are you then?”

He gestured inside her room. “Shall we?”

She went in first, and he followed behind, leaving the door slightly open. He sat down on her wobbly chair, and she sat on her bed. 

He glanced at her birthday present. “So how does it feel to be fifteen?”

She didn’t question how this man knew her age. It seemed that everyone knew everything about her, except why she kept seeing people die.

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” 

He smiled. “I remember when I was around your age. I was going through…changes…and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

She grimaced. “This isn’t the sex talk, is it?”

He shook his head, blushing. “No, no! That’s the last thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Well, why are you here?”
“Eva, I’ve heard from Dr. Lang that you’ve been having visions…seeing people die? And that you cry for hours? Is this true?”

She nodded, noticing there was an acceptance in his words. He wasn’t perplexed as Dr. Lang seemed to be. 

“What’s wrong with me?!” she pleaded.

He shook his head. “Nothing! My dear,
nothing
is wrong with you! You just have to learn to control it.”

“Control it?” she asked, confused. “I don’t want to control it. I want it to go away.”

He shook his head again. “I’m sorry, but that is impossible. What you’re experiencing…well, it’s who you are.”

Eva was confused and terrified, looking up and down at her thin body. “What? What am I?”

Before he could answer, the door creaked open. It was Dr. Lang. “Everything all right in here?”

The stranger rolled his eyes for only Eva to see. “Fine, thank you.”

Dr. Lang hesitated, but then nodded, and left.

“I don’t like him either,” she said.

“Eva, this isn’t the place for you. I know of a better place.”

“Not another hospital?”

“No!” He shook his head. “A school—a home—a place where you can study and live with others just like you.”

She raised her eyebrow. “A school?”

“My name is Seamus Quinn, and I’m the headmaster of Green Clover Academy in Boston.” He tapped the green shamrock pin attached to his tie.

“Boston? Isn’t it cold up there?”

Eva didn’t care for the cold, born and raised in sunny Miami.

The headmaster bobbed his head from side to side, thinking. “It’s cold when it needs to be, but otherwise it’s fine.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. We don’t have classes in the snow,” he joked.

“I’ll go to school to learn what?”

“Regular subjects…math, science, et cetera.”

“And how will geometry help me from seeing people die?” she asked in a noticeably sarcastic tone.

“It won’t. At least, I don’t think it will,” he answered, smiling, seemingly not offended at her tone. “At Green Clover, you’ll attend classes as if in a regular school, but you’ll live there.”

“Like a university?”

“Sort of…but I’m sure at Green Clover there are more parties,” he said with a slight smile.

“Sounds cool. When can I go?”

“When and
if
your parents approve, but I believe I can persuade them. They must see that”—he waved his hand at the room—“this place isn’t for you. I hate to see you here when what you’re going through is absolutely real.”

“You believe me? When others don’t? Why?”

“The girls at my school are experiencing
exactly
what you’re going through.”

She scrunched her nose. “It’s an all girls’ school?”

“Half girls, half boys. A hundred in all.”

“Only a hundred?”

She was used to her old school of so many that foot traffic in the hallways between classes was more congested than a highway full of holiday travelers.     

He smiled. “Believe me, that’s enough.”

“And they’re all like me?”

“All the girls.”

“Oh. What about the boys?”
“They’re…special too.” 

Eva didn’t know why he was being so cryptic, especially if he wanted her to just pack and leave for Boston with him.

She crossed her arms against her chest. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on with me.”

He smiled patiently, leaned forward, and whispered, “You’re a Banshee.”

Eva furrowed her brow. “A what?”
“It’s a long story,” he resumed in a normal voice, leaning back in his seat. “One that I’ll tell you on the plane ride over.” He smiled. “It’s a long flight.’

“Why can’t you tell me now?” she prodded.

“If I started the very long tale of why you are what you are, we’d be here for hours, and I have some errands to run…like convincing your parents you should come to my school.”

“Okay,” she moaned, but knew better than to push him. 

This was her chance to leave and she didn’t want to mess it up.

“Great!” He exclaimed with a clap. “I’ll just go and contact your parents. I’m sure they’ll see that Boston is much better for you than here. And when that’s settled, we’ll take the return flight tomorrow afternoon.”

“You have a ticket for me?” she asked, doubtful that he had planned out everything so perfectly.

He pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. She didn’t touch it, just staring at her name, and a two-thirty flight to Boston. 

“I can’t believe it! I’m actually going to leave?!”

“You are, pending your parent’s approval, of course.” He placed the ticket back in his pocket. “But as I said, I’m sure they’ll see the benefits of my school. It really is the best place for you.”

“Will you tell my parents what I am?” she asked, fearing their reaction.

He shook his head. “No, they’re not ready to know, to believe, but some parents of the other students know. In time, you can tell them if you wish, but that’s up to you. My school’s not
that
secretive, but we don’t like to go around advertising the…
abilities
of the students.”

“Will I get better there?”  

He reached his hand up, to her shoulder, and when she didn’t pull away, he gently squeezed it. “You will,” he said, nodding. 

She wanted to cry, but didn’t want to attract the attention of Dr. Lang, who had come back to the door, peeking inside.

“Thank you, Mr. Quinn,” she said.

“Till tomorrow, Eva,” he said, placing his gray cap back on his head.

He walked to the door, not-so-politely pushed it open, and almost knocked Dr. Lang’s clipboard into his twitchy face. 

“And?” Dr. Lang asked him. 

Mr. Quinn smiled at Eva, and then turned to the doctor. “She’s fine. More than fine, actually. Nothing’s wrong with her.”

She was glad that he was speaking up for her, but he wasn’t being truthful. There was something wrong with her, but apparently she could control it. Like a power. A superhero power. A
useless
power. She didn’t know what good she could do, if she saw people die, and couldn’t save them, not even knowing who they were, or where they lived.
But
she did know her visions were omens.   

When she saw the man being stabbed forty-seven times, she caught a glance at his cell phone when it dropped to the ground, and the date read October thirty-first. After the vision ended, and two hours of crying, she looked at her cell phone. The date read October twenty-fifth. She saw six days into the future. What she was going through wasn’t a gift. It was a curse.

“What?!” Dr. Lang exclaimed, shaking his head, his facial twitch jumping. “What about the hallucinations? What about the depression?” He threw his hands up in the air, as if that would further demonstrate his confusion.

Mr. Quinn simply tipped his gray cap. “See you tomorrow,
Doctor
Lang.” He waved to Eva and she waved back, trying to hold in her laughter.

Finally, it was just her and Dr. Lang. She was nervous that he would barrel in her room, and demand to know what she and the headmaster had discussed, but he didn’t even take a step past her doorframe. With his jumpy facial tick, he turned on his heels, and left her there, thankfully alone.