Sarah’s firm grip through their joined hands, but no pain exploded with the contact. How strange. The death visions always came with discomfort, but this was a warm and curious sensation. Maybe because there was no death visible, the vision didn’t hurt.
Allison dove deeper, pushing through the diaphanous layers. A particular bright light formed into Quincy as a baby, and a warm, hopeful glow of new motherhood expanded in Allison’s chest. A lump formed in her throat.
Digging deeper, she caught a glimpse of a younger Bryce. Allison shouldn’t be seeing such passion and love in his eyes. That gaze was meant for her sister, but Allison gained all of her perspective. Brief jealousy twisted the image into something ugly until she took a deep breath in and out.
Another layer deeper, she struggled to move the heavier curtain, but she finally succeeded. There was her mother, curled up on the carpet after a bender, sweaty and moaning. Sharp sadness stabbed Allison in the heart. It was her fault that Mom suffered; it was her visions that pushed Mom over the edge.
Go deeper
, Sarah’s whispered voice drifted through the sound of rushing air.
I don’t want to see.
You need to.
The curtains she moved for the last layer were heavy lead. There he was. But her father’s withered body did not appear, dissolving beneath the chemotherapy, as Allison had remembered him.
Instead, the image Sarah kept locked deep in her memory was simple and stunning.
They were all having a picnic together, the last day together as a normal family. Allison, Sarah, Mom, and Dad. Before the visions started. Before everything changed.
Allison hadn’t noticed the glances her parents gave each other, the way her mother’s eyelashes batted or how her father quirked an eyebrow and winked. But this was Sarah’s memory. Their parents twined normal, healthy hands together. Mom rested her head on Dad’s shoulder and sighed. When ants threatened the basket of food, Dad jumped up and swatted the intruders off the blanket, grinning the whole time.
The smell of grass and soil slid into Allison’s mind. She and Sarah had rolled down the little hill over and over again, their girlish knees and hips tumbling until neither of them could walk in a straight line. They had collapsed in laughter, surrounded by the leaves shushing in the wind and insects buzzing nearby. Above them, on the hillside, Mom’s and Dad’s faces shone.
The memory of the last perfect day that marked the end of a perfect life.
Enough
.
Quit wishing for the past.
For what she could never have.
Pulling back out of her sister’s mind, Allison squinted in the bright sunlight. The pleasant cacophony of scurrying kids eventually brought her back to the here and now. She let go of Sarah’s hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Her sister’s eyes shone with tears.
More pain. The theme of Allison’s life. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’ll never do that again.”
“No, it’s okay, Al. Some of those images were beautiful. I had buried those memories.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“Not at all. It was weird. I knew you were there, but then pictures, flashes of memories, appeared like I’d thought of them myself. That’s really cool.”
Allison cringed at the pain lancing through her forehead. “I don’t know if ‘cool’ is the right term. Hey, do you feel a sense of me now?”
“Like in my head?”
“Yes. I still get a little whispering sense of you in my own mind. Can you feel me there?”
Sarah frowned. “No, nothing at all; it’s like nothing happened. Is that normal?”
Allison shrugged and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Who knows?”
“Wow, your power really has changed. Who would’ve thought? A brand new ability. Good for you.”
“I don’t know about it being good, but thanks for letting me experiment on you.” Allison threw her arms around her sister’s neck, then stepped back, blinking away her burning tears. They stood in silence while the soccer
Allison dove deeper, pushing through the diaphanous layers. A particular bright light formed into Quincy as a baby, and a warm, hopeful glow of new motherhood expanded in Allison’s chest. A lump formed in her throat.
Digging deeper, she caught a glimpse of a younger Bryce. Allison shouldn’t be seeing such passion and love in his eyes. That gaze was meant for her sister, but Allison gained all of her perspective. Brief jealousy twisted the image into something ugly until she took a deep breath in and out.
Another layer deeper, she struggled to move the heavier curtain, but she finally succeeded. There was her mother, curled up on the carpet after a bender, sweaty and moaning. Sharp sadness stabbed Allison in the heart. It was her fault that Mom suffered; it was her visions that pushed Mom over the edge.
Go deeper
, Sarah’s whispered voice drifted through the sound of rushing air.
I don’t want to see.
You need to.
The curtains she moved for the last layer were heavy lead. There he was. But her father’s withered body did not appear, dissolving beneath the chemotherapy, as Allison had remembered him.
Instead, the image Sarah kept locked deep in her memory was simple and stunning.
They were all having a picnic together, the last day together as a normal family. Allison, Sarah, Mom, and Dad. Before the visions started. Before everything changed.
Allison hadn’t noticed the glances her parents gave each other, the way her mother’s eyelashes batted or how her father quirked an eyebrow and winked. But this was Sarah’s memory. Their parents twined normal, healthy hands together. Mom rested her head on Dad’s shoulder and sighed. When ants threatened the basket of food, Dad jumped up and swatted the intruders off the blanket, grinning the whole time.
The smell of grass and soil slid into Allison’s mind. She and Sarah had rolled down the little hill over and over again, their girlish knees and hips tumbling until neither of them could walk in a straight line. They had collapsed in laughter, surrounded by the leaves shushing in the wind and insects buzzing nearby. Above them, on the hillside, Mom’s and Dad’s faces shone.
The memory of the last perfect day that marked the end of a perfect life.
Enough
.
Quit wishing for the past.
For what she could never have.
Pulling back out of her sister’s mind, Allison squinted in the bright sunlight. The pleasant cacophony of scurrying kids eventually brought her back to the here and now. She let go of Sarah’s hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Her sister’s eyes shone with tears.
More pain. The theme of Allison’s life. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’ll never do that again.”
“No, it’s okay, Al. Some of those images were beautiful. I had buried those memories.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“Not at all. It was weird. I knew you were there, but then pictures, flashes of memories, appeared like I’d thought of them myself. That’s really cool.”
Allison cringed at the pain lancing through her forehead. “I don’t know if ‘cool’ is the right term. Hey, do you feel a sense of me now?”
“Like in my head?”
“Yes. I still get a little whispering sense of you in my own mind. Can you feel me there?”
Sarah frowned. “No, nothing at all; it’s like nothing happened. Is that normal?”
Allison shrugged and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Who knows?”
“Wow, your power really has changed. Who would’ve thought? A brand new ability. Good for you.”
“I don’t know about it being good, but thanks for letting me experiment on you.” Allison threw her arms around her sister’s neck, then stepped back, blinking away her burning tears. They stood in silence while the soccer
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