

SELF CONSCIOUSNESS

Copyright © 2010 by R.J. Hamilton

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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BOOKS BY R.J. HAMILTON:

The Self Series:

Self Convictions

Self Consciousness

Self Conclusions

Self Consequences

And the Hand of God

Because It Feels Good

A Personal Hell: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

&

Dissecting Sean Connor

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Prelude

The following is our story, the tale of the Hudson's, an ordinary family with extraordinary abilities. We've jotted it down in order to make it public in case anything is to happen to us. Our tale will not be stifled or kept quiet any longer.

Everyone must be made cognizant of our existence in order to understand us. People by nature do not fear what they comprehend, they fear the unknown. You will never truly know that one of us is near unless we deem you worthy of the knowledge. If it is that you are chosen for the partaking in the experience, be mindful and wary that your life will always be at risk. It's just the way of the game. Therefore let us apologize in advance.

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I am walking down a cobblestone street. The sounds of my footfalls clop against the rocks. I can feel the breeze blowing through my hair, it flows softly. The water courses gently in the river beside me. A boat floats nearby, its lights reflecting off of the canal waters. I don't understand what the people on the floating vessel are saying but I can hear them. It's some other language, very familiar. I ignore them in their shouting obnoxiously, they aren't yelling at me anyway, just in general for all to hear. The things that drunken people do are amazing. I direct my eyes to where I'm strolling. A gloriously architected bridge of stone arcs over the waterway, the streetlamps that line it from one side to the other are old in fashion and beauty. I can see that each pillar of the enormous overpass is wonderfully detailed and thick. A vehicle drives over it and then another and another. I look up into the skyline, I hadn't noticed it before. The lights from the tower show it off in the middle of the city for all to admire and observe. I suddenly hear something behind me, it's another set of footsteps. I turn round by spinning on the front of my shoe sole, the earth crunches as I pivot, grinding the pebbles beneath. The dark vestige of the figure is unrecognizable in the lack of light. The person continues to approach even though I'm staring directly at it, without fear. The black trench coat flaps behind it in the wind. My skull begins to burn within. Oh God, it hurts so badly. It feels like a nail driving into my forehead right between the eyes. A blaring foghorn from the nearby party barge sounds its alarm. It blasts wholly into my ears breaking my concentration. This has been my dream recently and my reason for continuing our story.

I will begin the tale exactly where I left you, for those who don't know me, my name is Brandon Hudson. My family and I are currently hiding under the name Smith, so I can also be referred to as Matthew Smith. It's a boring name, but the first name I've chosen in honor of my father. He was a good man and even though he'd left my family when I was young, I'd obtained some closure and understanding as to why shortly before his own father, my grandfather, murdered him in cold blood. He was working for a company known as Gen Co. My grandfather, Daniel, was employed by them I guess you could say. They had done some cruel things to him when he was a child so he'd vowed his revenge and in the end he'd received it. Daniel also got what he deserved in the end.

Here's a bit of family history for the unaware. I have some powers that I've received through natural human advancement, a genetic gift from God if you will. I have the ability to move things with my mind and I also gather the emotional status from others and at times it's rather bothersome. That's pretty much it, nothing too special really. As a child I'd had some issues with my powers. I couldn't control them very well and there were some negative results, I'd rather just leave it at that. I'd ended up killing my "grandfather," although it ended up being that he was my great uncle. If this is too confusing for you I apologize but it's your own fault for not reading the first installment of my life. For those who have already, I apologize to you as well if I am boring you. You understand I hope? All of my life from the beginning until his destruction, Daniel was messing with me. He had a unique ability along with the mind reading and the telekinesis. He could project his mind partially into mine. He would control me and make me use my own powers for his selfish pleasures. I am much more powerful than he was which is why I ended up destroying him. I can't take all the credit though, I have Sarah. She is the love of my life and we will be together forever, I have no doubt in that fact. Sarah is very strong and also is gifted. She has a well-rounded talent, telekinesis, mind reading, and I think the empathy just comes with the mind reading. I haven't bothered in asking her about that. Note to self: ask Sarah about that, sorry I'm trying to be as straightforward as possible so if I ramble and get lost in thought on paper it's just me.

I met Sarah through the Society. They are the ones we are currently hiding from. The local chapter had been extinguished by me, against my will, and Daniel. But Sarah and I had been warned and we do know that there are many more chapters out there. The Society is a force that should not be reckoned with. They are very powerful in both money and personnel. They employ others like us to demolish and obliterate anything they deem necessary or whoever gets in their way. They are a selfish group of people with the riches and as is goes with most of them, power is their main objective. They'd tried to feed me some line of crap about saving a race and helping people like Sarah and I. We are well beyond that point and we know that it isn't the case. Now, for those of you that I've bored to tears, once again I apologize, as for the others, I've told you the resolution for any confusion. I will now continue beyond the recap.

When my grandmother had been killed and with Daniel gone, Sarah and I had gained quite a bit, monetarily speaking. We didn't have time to stick around for the reading of the will but the Society had plenty of money stowed away for Daniel and it was easily accessible. Apparently he was smart but we were smarter. He didn't hide things very well so let's just leave it at that. We hadn't stolen the money from him, it was the Society's cash and we thank them for it.

Sarah and I are currently residing in Las Vegas, Nevada. It seemed the best place to hide our family from the Society because Las Vegas is a very busy place and people don't seem to be too concerned about others affairs. Strangeness takes no heed here and I appreciate that fact because with a family like mine, we need no notice to be taken.

We have two beautiful children. They are twins, a boy and a girl. Since he was first born, I will tell you about Ben. His full name is Bennett Lee Hudson. The Lee part is from my middle name. His name also means 'blessed' which he certainly is. He has absorbed every dominate trait from Sarah and I. He has near black hair with a bit of curl and the chocolaty brown almond shaped eyes. His skin tone is bronze in color, a light brown rather. He is an adorable child but very mischievous for a boy of his age, they are both nearing five now. They've kept us busy and I haven't been able to add our life's events after my first book until now. Ben is normal for the most part, he hasn't shown any type of power yet but it's possible that it's too early for either of them to. I did have minimal usage by this age but I was being used for my power and my children don't come from the unhappy home that I did either so maybe those are the reasons for the lack of development. That boy used to require most of our attention, until the last few months he's seemingly more independent but I love him just the same. He keeps us on our toes most of the time. He has a great number of questions and we try to answer them all. He's very intelligent, they both are. I believe that a parent should always feed a child's mind and answer any inquisition put forth. If a kid has the depth to ask the question, shouldn't the parent feel compelled to donate the necessary response?

Our daughter, Brielle Darla Hudson is very beautiful just like her mother. We call her Brie for short. Her name means 'God is my might' and her middle name is in honor of my Gramms. Once again, for those who don't know of her, you know where to find the answers to the questions. Her once dark hair in now almost white blonde and her gray eyes now a crystallized light blue. She is peaceful, just as she was in birth. Brie doesn't seem to inquire as much as Ben. She's also much quieter than he is. Ben may be "blessed", but Brie seems to be the balance of the two and our "blessing". How two individuals born of the same parents at the same time can be so opposite? I'll never understand it. The Society had stated in the past that the dominate traits are the dark ones, so there's still hope for Brie in not having powers at all. It's also been known to skip a generation, jumping from one and going to the next, so maybe Bennett won't even take on the gene? Sarah and I are torn on whether we want them to have powers. We revel in the fact that we have them now, but as a child, mine where quite overwhelming. Maybe if I'd have been helped with it that would've been beneficial? In the case that the children, even one of them, does develop the gifts then we are here for them so in that aspect we will be a benefit to them. Sarah and I didn't have that luxury. Neither of our parents had powers.

I spend all of my spare time with the children. They are so dear to us but that goes without saying I think, well it should anyway. Some parents just don't understand their kids and don't even bother trying, it's sad. I remember my life before them and Sarah, I was completely lost. Sarah has been my savior and I don't truly think that she even knows it. My ego was so overbearing to my soul and now I have humbleness about me. If they hadn't set us up then I am sure that I would now be dead. Daniel would've won, of that I have no doubt. As a result he'd still be continuing his siege throughout the countryside and circularizing his anger as he went. He would've been a small brushfire in the Outback region of Australia blown high with the winds and blackening everything in his path, destroying it all. When I think about the possible outcome without Sarah's intervention, it sends chills down my spine and scares the crap out of me.

Sarah works as a cocktail waitress at a casino. I know that it isn't much but we chose our jobs simply because we don't want to have them finding us. I'm working construction again, roadwork mostly, like before they found me. Our life isn't really that interesting right now but I have a feeling that these calm days are numbered.

Sarah and I work opposite schedules for the most part. I wake early in the morning and I'm off to the grindstone. Working at a casino that's open twenty-four seven makes it so she can pick and choose her hours. We love each other but the twins are the most important thing in our lives and a babysitter is not an option until we can be sure that there is no possibility of danger for them, or the sitter for that matter. With the Society lurking about and the possibility of a freak accident happening, we trust no one. As you know, the Society has assassins they've employed who are like us. We don't have any kind of natural attraction or radar to realize who's got the powers and who doesn't. You have just as much ability for their detection as we do so, don't get upset. Let me move on with our story.

It's a normal day. I wake up at five o'clock in the morning. Sarah's asleep next to me in our big comfortable king-size bed. I sit up on my side, resting on my elbow and stare at her for a moment. This is something that I practice every morning, I love to admire her. She is my goddess. My poor hardworking wife, coming from a wealthy family she hadn't worked a day in her life before meeting me. We'd decided together this was the way we were going to run things. She knows people and used to be quite the partier, so she thought that the cocktail waitress route would be the most appropriate one to take. She is facing away from me, I watch her as her breaths make her chest rise and fall calmly. She is so peaceful. I sweep her hair from her shoulder and give her a gentle kiss on the neck, such a beautiful neck. She smiles a little and then relaxes again.

"Have a good day, my love," I whisper softly in her ear.

"You too, sexy, I love you." It's her gentle nocturne. I adjust the bed sheet, placing it against her shoulder and roll quietly from the bed. I leave our bedroom and look in on the twins. I check in on Ben first and then Brie, they are asleep in their little toddler beds. We'd chosen a neutral décor for each of their rooms, the typical sky blue and light pink. The colors are boring but suited to them just the same. I smile after looking upon each of my darlings. I am in so much admiration of my little family, I feel like the entire world is contained in our small home and nothing else exists when we're together in it. I return to our bedroom and jump in the shower; it's a refreshing start to a rough day ahead. I lather up, rinse, and dry. I finish and leave quietly so I don't rouse Sarah and get dressed.

Our home is modest, once again for no attention attraction. It resembles my home as a child, but we have a three bedroom home with two bathrooms. There is a distinct separation of our rooms, quite unlike the one from my past. Our interior décor reflects Sarah's tastes. She is a lover of the lavish old world art. She hasn't fallen far from her rich upbringing. Her attitude has never expressed it though. She is as meek as she is gorgeous. The couple of prints on the wall are DaVinci's, they are just copies of course, but they do the trick. The living room contains the lush deep brown leather couch and loveseat to maintain the flow of color from the tans and browns of the artwork. She's topped the whole thing off with a finely carved matching coffee table and the two end tables. Let's not forget the pair of Tiffany lamps on the end tables. Oh, one more thing, remember the grandfather clock that I'd fallen in love with in Daniel's home? That is the crème de la crème, just a little trophy, what can I say, I fell in love with it.

I go through the dining room. It's regularly decorated with the usual wooden table and just enough chairs for us. Booster seat attachments are on the ones that Ben and Brie used not long ago, it made eating easier. The table is topped with a rather large woven basket of fruit, the fake plastic ones. I leave the dining room and enter the kitchen. Sarah doesn't cook much, she knows how but she manages the easy day meals for the twins. I serve up a larger meal in the evening for the four of us before she has to leave for work. Dinner time is the one true time that we get to partake in our real family time during the week. It's our favorite part of the day. Watching the children as they've grown from being fed in their highchairs to what they do now is something that I revel in. I think that we both do, sometimes we catch one another staring at them and not eating ourselves. It's one of the many joys of parenthood. I open the refrigerator and grab out the usual cream cheese and bagel. The coffee, set on a timer for brewing the night prior, it's ready in the pot. The wonderful aroma fills the kitchen. It's refreshing to the morning senses and accomplishes the awakening that the shower hadn't fully done. Remember those old coffee commercials when the kid's home for the holidays from college? The first thing he does is brew up a fresh batch and the whole family is awakened by the smell. That's what it reminds me of, I know it's funny and I laugh at the thought of it myself. My breakfast consists of the bagel and a cup of coffee, black. It's enough to get me going and my job has kept my body as it always has been, fatherhood hasn't affected that. It was one of the reasons why I'd initially chosen my blue collar profession in the past and a good reason to pick it again. Spending all day out on the open highway getting beat down by the hot Nevada sun and the laying of the asphalt ensures that weight is no issue. I finish my morning meal and go back to the fridge for my lunch. I silently wish my family a good day and leave the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. Our practical family four-door waits in the driveway under the overhead protection. I get in, start it up, and back out of the driveway. I take one last quick glance at the house before I depart. It's a small house painted in navy blue with a base of red brick. I keep the lawn landscaped to perfection; it's my Saturday afternoon practice. We have two lone oak trees perfectly placed in the front yard, a perfect frame for the perfect family within. We live in the outskirts of Vegas, in a little suburbia. It's reasonably quiet in the neighborhood and the neighbors themselves mind their own business. We do have the pleasant passing on the sidewalk when we take our walks every once in a while. A randomly thrown 'hi' and a small polite wave, but that's pretty much it.

In the morning when reporting to work I just go straight to the job site. All of our equipment is left in place and secured as best we can, except for the hand tools. One of my coworkers, usually the newest to the crew, brings those and meets the rest of us at the site prior to starting the labors of the day. Don't get me wrong it's not a punishment. He does have to get in earlier than the rest of us but it's a rite of passage. When another is hired then that guy will obtain the privilege. The site is on a strip outside of the city around five miles beyond its limits. We've been working this strip since the beginning of the spring and now early summer. It's getting extremely hot outside now, like I said, it's a perk of the job. I don't mind the heat, there are other forms of warmth that I've gone through that are much more intense than that of the sun. I arrive at the site to see a couple of the four-man crew members waiting for the rest of us. John's leaning against his pickup truck on the side of the road, intentionally parked in the ditch. John's a big guy with the body of a professional wrestler, the type you see on television. He's a big burly man with a lush beard who stands about six and a half feet tall. He always starts the day in a flannel over shirt with the sleeves torn off and then graduates to the wife beater under-T. Sometimes I wonder if he ever washes that t-shirt, it's a little on the yellow side from all the days of being soaked in his sweat. He's been working with the company the longest so I'd say he's the foreman of sorts. To us, he's just a regular Joe. He has the privilege of running the roller all day and complains about it, but it beats pushing the stuff by hand. We have a separate crew that comes and lays out the line of new asphalt for us, they are different every day and we sort of have a click amongst ourselves so none of us has ever bothered to take part in any conversation with them. They emit a "holier than thou" air so they can stay out of our group anyway. They are in front of us in the beginning but they finish the day before we do. The other is Junior, that's all we know him as. He always rides with John to the sites, carpoolers. Junior has a great esteem for John and dresses to portray it. The biggest difference between them is Junior is a lot younger, hence the name, and about half Johns' size. Also, Junior's facial hair growth is nowhere near the thickness of Johns'. If we call him Junior, maybe we could refer to him as Patches. His primary function in the crew is the shovel worker. We all do the shoveling but he's the main one involved in the shoveling act. I inspect the leveling of the tar behind John and I call him back on the huge machine if necessary. It's important that the road is laid out properly. There are very few things as annoying and bothersome as driving down the highway on an unevenly laid road. I take my crappy but important job fairly serious. Not to mention the fact that I don't like having to come back to a site to fix. The last to arrive is Mike in the company truck with the tools, earning his passage. Mike is the youngest and most inexperienced of all of us but we've taken him under our wings to create a better and more efficient worker. Everyone knows that if you've got one poor worker it hurts the whole crew and nobody wants to pick up the slack so it's part of the job. Mike's fresh out of high school, his only experience was dabbling in the fast food industry. Don't let me forget to mention the drugs he's talked about using here and there. I'm not one to judge, but I think the kid fried a few too many brain cells along the way. He's been quite the project for all three of us but we refuse to quit on him, everyone deserves a fighting chance in anything they try in life. Assistance from others makes it possible. When people quit you it's one of the most disappointing and upsetting things someone can feel. I should know, even though I'd been quit on and had quit another, I am well aware of how it feels and vowed to never do it again. I'll try to make this the last time that I say it but you'll have to do some research on your own because that's a subject that's still touchy for me and I'd rather not discuss it. Anyway, enough of my ranting, we begin our early morning, it's nearing six thirty and the sun is just beginning to push a bit of its wonderful warmth. The thing about my job is that the day isn't over until it's over. There is always highway to tar and the work never ends. We call it a day at four o'clock no matter where we are in our process.

Today seems like any other day; the heat is pressing, John has lost his shirt on top of the roller, and everyone is beading with sweat. I remove my rag from the back of my jeans pocket and rest one arm on the shovel. I've decided to burn a few extra calories today so I'm doing some shovel pushing as well as the leveling over watch. I dab at the moisture on my forehead and catch something strange out of the corner of my eye. Mike had decided to do the same, I guess he'd considered my swabbing as a sort of break or something, I have no idea what runs through the boy's head. He dropped his light thin bandana and it's taken hostage by the gentle breeze as it flows through the desert landscape, Mike close behind. The rag continues to fly away from him furthering its way down the road. He continues to follow it. It falls on the pavement less than ten feet behind the roller. From my vantage point it's hard to see him. I panic in fear of the worst possible results. I don't know if you've ever been around a roller when it's in operation, let me say this, it isn't a silent machine. It rattles and shakes and the engine is diesel fueled. I don't actually know of any diesel fueled motor that is quiet. When you add the delusion of the sun soaked brain it adds to the confusion greatly.

"Mike, what the hell are you doing?" I yell as loudly as possible. Junior looks up from his shovel. He didn't notice what was going on. I can only see his butt sticking out from behind the roller as he bends over to retrieve the bandana.

"John, stop! Stop the roller!" Junior begins hollering at the top of his lungs. John is not listening, or hearing, I don't know which but he's not responding. His eyes are focused on something off in the ditch. Now is not the time for spacing, John. I have to act. I can't let something happen to Mike he's too young and feebleminded. I let the power flow within my body. Sarah has instructed me well in the use of my gift. Without the interference of Daniel, I can call upon it with ease. The added heat comes quickly throughout my being. My brain begins to burn. My eyes feel the pressure of the scorching heat. Nobody can know that I've done something to stop the fatality. No matter. I can't not go ahead and do it regardless of the consequences. It's my duty to do something. I let it come forth. None of them are paying attention to me anyway. The roller begins to chug and shake as I focus. I'm stopping the backward movement of the machine and the internal moving parts are feeling it and fighting back. This thing is so heavy. I've never attempted anything like this before. The roller has to weigh at least a couple of tons. The heaviest thing I've ever picked up was a car and that was with Sarah's union. John starts fiddling with the controls trying to fix the problem. Great, that's all I need, resistance. He shifts madly trying to work the gears and figure out what's happening with the engine. Junior stands in front of it waving madly, John finally sees him. Junior jumps up and down on the road pointing to the rear of the roller. John's look of wonderment is replaced as his eyes become wide when he glances to the rear of the machine to see Mike bent over behind it. He kills the roller's motor and locks the brake. I let go of the connection between my mind and the vehicle. A wave washes over me from my face to my feet like a hot glass of water being siphoned through a straw. I can't fall, I have to let go. I've overexerted myself. When I use too much energy I have a tendency to get weak-kneed and unbalanced. Alright, Bran, shake it off. Let the feeling go. I manage to release the feeling like a dove flying into the open air, free from its cage. The dizziness subsides, the stars diminish, and the prickly skin numbness goes. That was very difficult for me, one of the hardest things I've ever attempted alone. It's too bad there won't be any thanks to be had for the efforts. The things I do for the greater good of others and for what, I guess it's the self-gratification in knowing that I did it. Big John gets off the roller. Junior is just standing in front of it, not moving. I think he knows what's going to happen next. Mike stands up from the rear of the machine, he looks proud of the fact that he's retrieved his hanky. John walks up to him and cocks his fist back. This is going to hurt. He punches him in the side of the face. Mike had no idea that it was coming, he is knocked to the ground, hands meeting the hot fresh tar. He stays in the position for a few moments as John begins to scold him. It's as though he's trying to do a push up but remains still, breathing hard from the pain and surprise.

"What the hell were you thinking, Mike?" John helps him back to his feet while Mike holds his cheek with his hand. "You almost got yourself killed there buddy. Did you maybe want to be a part of this stretch of road forever? You're damn lucky that thing petered out on me." Mike is hurt but understands the reaction and lets a half smile free. The swelling in his cheek is already setting in and looks like a partial grin is all that he can accomplish. John pats him on the back for a no hard feelings. None of them have any idea of what actually happened. Thank goodness for quick thinking huh? Needless to say, that close call made us call it an early day. Mike quit a couple of days later despite our attempts to forgive and forget and make it obvious to him that we weren't upset about the incident.

Our day is repetitious and runs like clockwork, I get up and leave for work, Ben and Brie wake up around eight o'clock every morning. I arrive home around four thirty, sometimes five in the evening. Some of the times dinner is ready but I usually make it because I enjoy it. We eat our supper together and then Sarah begins getting ready for work while I play with the kids. We all say good bye to mommy and she's off. We read stories and play for a bit longer and then I have my little ones in bed by nine o'clock. I'm usually in bed by around ten thirty, right after the news of course. Sarah comes home around four in the morning, she doesn't get much sleep before the twins wake but she does take a nap with them during the afternoon to make up for the lost sleep. The weekends are dedicated to her sleeping because I'm home. She works three days and then has a day or two in a row off and I try to help her out as much as I can.

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In order for you to get a complete understanding of our family Brandon thinks it would be best if we all added a little to the story personally. This is Sarah in case you haven't figured it out. I'm sort of a rough and tumble lady, yes, I am a lady. I came from money but I don't act like the rich spoiled girl you'd expect. I do love things like any other woman but I don't want any more from Brandon as a husband than the love and support he provides me and the children. God has bestowed not one, but two precious gifts and I am very thankful for them both. With Brandon as my protector and my heart and soul, adding our little ones to the mix is the most perfect thing to me. He is a wonderful man and despite the situation we are going through right now, he goes above and beyond what I want and I appreciate him and all that he does.

The Society is our biggest worry. I know that it's been over five years since we've heard from them but they still scare me, mainly because I fear for the children. After the stories I've heard, they will never find my little ones or know they exist. My parents were part of the Society and I grew up within it. It's depressing knowing they used to be members because of what it stands for. It upsets me even more knowing how they were killed and that it was because they were involved with them. Bran has tried to tell me about the whole ordeal but I tell him that I don't want to talk about it. I know that Daniel murdered them and that's all I need to know. I trusted that man. I'd known him all my life. He was a family friend. My father and Daniel had even gone golfing together on numerous occasions. I'll never understand how anyone could be that heartless and cruel.

I spend my days with the children. Bran and I had decided before their birth that we would never leave of our kids with anyone until we were sure there was no reason to worry. I would die if I lost either of them. So far we haven't noticed anything usual from Bennett or Brielle. I work at one of the more upscale casinos as a cocktail waitress. It's not much of a job but Brandon's already told you why we work the jobs we do. Brandon doesn't like my choice of employment because he says it scares him, but I can take care of myself if it's necessary. Normal people don't intimidate me, the ones like us do. I usually know when someone is up to something. It's one of the benefits that I have as a mind reader. Since the twins were born I haven't felt as beautiful as I used to, maybe it's a mom thing. After my husband's usual deliciously composed dinner I go to the bathroom and start my preparations for the evening.

My waitress uniform is a little scandalous but I have the legs to pull it off. It's a plain black dress skirt that puffs out at the waist. Come to think of it, it's kind of like a French maid's uniform, that may be why I can't keep my man off of me when he sees me in it. It makes me feel sexy and a little unstoppable when I wear it. I wear black six inch heels to add to the beauty of the ensemble and a white satin semi see-through blouse underneath. I apply a minimal amount of make-up; my olive skin tone doesn't need much. I put on mascara, a bit of blush, black eyeliner, and lastly, dark red lipstick. Red lipstick is fun I think, it adds to the sexiness. My hair is reasonably simple it has quite a bit of body but I just add a little mousse and I'm ready to go. I go out into the living room where my husband and children are sitting on the sofa enjoying a book, as they usually do nightly. He keeps them settled out of respect for me before I go.

"You look pretty, mommy," Brielle says to me as she runs up and hugs my legs. She does this every night before I leave, it's become a routine. She still catches me off guard a bit because of the instability in the height of the heels. I reach down and hug her head. Her beautiful blonde hair is so soft and pretty, I love doing my mommy thing and brushing it in the morning.

"Thank you, sweetie, you look pretty too." She looks up at me with my hand still resting on top of her head and smiles. Those baby blues really get a person. She's adorable. She skips back and joins her father on the couch. Brielle is the quiet one and she helps me around the house during the day. She's both cute and helpful, my little angel. Bennett is more standoffish but very demanding, most of his attitude is left for Brandon to deal with when he returns from work. I don't like to punish the children, having grown up in an environment like I did there wasn't much discipline given. I was a good girl like Brielle is, well until the teenage years hit then things got a little out of control. I have no regrets though, I live my life as I wish and enjoy every minute of it.

Well, my darlings I've got to go." It's one of the many repeated sayings in the evenings. This time all three of them come to give me some "before work" love. My handsome husband remains after the two babies resume their position on the couch. Ben has the book in his hands now and Brie is looking on peacefully as he flips excitedly through the pages. I look into Brandon's eyes, I love his eyes. They are so warm and passionate. Our playful newlywed adornment is still there but we control ourselves in front of the children as good parents should. He nears and wraps his arms around me and gives me the regular but needed good bye kiss and hug. Our farewell kisses sometimes get a little over the top but I know that I'll be back in a few hours. Our love was strong in the beginning and the sex was wonderful but now it's even better than ever. He has the ability to get my motor running.

"Good night, my dear," he whispers to me in my ear. Shivers flow down my back from the breath against my skin. Being a little shorter than him usually I can't but when I'm dressed for work and in my sexy heels I just lean in for a kiss good bye.

"You as well, love." He smiles at me and gently smooches me one last time. I wave to the children. Ben isn't paying attention but Brie waves back.

"Good night, Mommy, I love you." She sits politely like a little lady with her hands folded on her lap, her legs stretched out in front of her dangling her feet off the end of the couch. She gives me a full perfectly innocent smile, so genuine and delightful. Our children are blessed and I'm going to say that with the combination of our genes they are really smart. I'm not bragging. I'm just being honest. I throw them one more wave like Ms. America doing her final walk of shame for the judges before they make their final decision. Brandon stands near me, I turn to him and mouth the words bye, lover and smile, I open the door and he shuts it behind me.

It's still a little warm outside. I can't wait for the cooler Nevada winter months. The heat is very annoying to me. I'd lived in Texas for most of my life but I hated it just as much then as I do now. I'm thankful it's a dry arid heat or there is no way we'd live here. I get in the car and pull out of the driveway. Brandon's already told you about the neighborhood so I won't repeat it but just so you know I love it here. I have to hit the highway to get to work and I adore it because I am a woman who loves the road. I like going fast and sometimes I roll down the windows just to feel the air as I speed along. Messing up my hair? It doesn't matter to me, it's easily fixed. My love of the rush overtakes the worry of my womanly organizations. After about thirty minutes, I arrive at work. I find a spot in the lot, we have a designated section for the employees but it seems like the customer overflow always consumes it. I finally found one on the side of the building near the gated alleyway. I always try to avoid parking here because it stinks. There's tons of trash and debris beyond the wire fence that blocks the way into it. It's a fairly decent jaunt from the car to the building. I go in the front to see the place is busy as ever. All but one of the slot machines has an occupant. The blackjack table has a crowd as well as the craps and roulette tables, all of them are packed. I go to the back room to drop my purse in my locker and return to the bar to start my evening. Tommy, the bartender, is mixing drinks like crazy but stops when he sees me.

"Hello, gorgeous." Part of the routine we go through whenever I work. It's a little risqué but he talks to all the cocktail waitresses like that. Some find it offensive and he avoids conversing with them. Tommy is a married but flirtatious man. Let me say that there is no guy on the planet who's a threat to my Brandon. He keeps me satisfied and happy and I would never think of going astray on him. One of the reasons he didn't want me to take this job was because of the drunken, perverted remarks and innuendos but he's been assured that I can handle it. When a guy gets that thought of patting me on the butt, I see it most of the time before he gets the chance to do it, so I dodge it. I usually leave my mind fairly open when I'm here because that's the only way to avoid those types of guys and their motions.

"Hey, busy tonight?" I laugh a little. The hustle and bustle of the job is humorous to any onlooker. We turn into pleasant robots rushing around trying to make sure that all the customers are satisfied. Customer satisfaction is the key in my line of work, that's how I make my tips.

I pick up my tray and go out to the floor, now I'm a sheep in a lion's den, but not too much of a ewe. It's not all that bad getting stared at and flirted with all night. It replaces the lack of sexiness I've felt recently. I wander the room and wait for someone to stop me for a drink order. I fill many requests and make a reasonable amount in tips, that's why I enjoy the busy night's the most. Also, time flies when you're having fun. Oh my God, I am going to get a piece of that tonight. A voice invades my mind, there have been many thoughts tonight passing through my brain but they've all been pretty innocent so far. There've been mental expressions of how gorgeous I am. Some of how polite, and of course the random images of someone staring at my ass. Those are all pretty usual but this one's creeping me out. He's got a violent and gruff demeanor to the tone of his mental voice and it's scary. I glance around the room in hopes to find him. I don't see anyone looking in my direction. I try to push myself back into it and focus on the freaky thought. It's gone, or hiding, I can't tell. All that I know is it was eerie and I'm feeling very uncomfortable right now. I go and work a different area of the casino so I can stay out of his view. An hour passes by and it hits me again. You are going to get some good lovin' tonight, sexy lady. I don't wait this time and start an immediate scan of the room. Nothing, there are no people around that look even remotely suspicious. Most of the customers are older people and they seem to be coupled, for the most part. All of the middle-aged guys seem to be preoccupied with their winnings and losses and none of them are paying any attention to me. Thank God I get done with work in the next thirty minutes because I can't stand it anymore. If I knew who it was, I could tell Tommy about it or one of the security guards, but knowing through mind reading alone, I can't tell them that. I'll just stay weary and watchful until I leave, but I'll move to another area for now.

The thirty minutes left on my shift is over. I go back to the bar, wipe my tray down, and place it on the stack on the counter.

"Night, Tommy." It's my final good night to the barkeep. I give him a wave and an awkward smile. That voice hasn't stopped, over and over again, it's been echoing through my mind. It's like the voice from a movie a person hears on the phone when they're all alone in the house and nobody is around to protect them. I'd been paying attention, listening for one to match it around the tables since it first invaded, but I got nothing from anyone. He's apparently a quiet one, one of the ones a person needs to be weary of. He fits my description as a serial something, rapist, murderer, I don't know and don't want to find out.

"Good night, Sarah." He waves back at me and I go to the back room to retrieve my purse. I open the locker and grab my bag and then take my evenings tips and place them neatly inside the zipper pouch hidden within. It hasn't been too bad of a night considering the interruption. I shut my locker and go to the exit of the casino. I begin the adventure across the parking lot and proceed around the corner of the building to my car, keys in hand. I get to the car and put the key in the lock, remove the key, and open the door. I hear a bang nearby, it sounds like a rock hitting a dumpster, a loud metal bong. I stop and look around. There's nothing in sight. I shrug it off and get into the car. The rushed crunching of little pebbles against shoe soles approaching rapidly flows into my ears. I reach for my door handle in an attempt to shut it quickly. I'm too late. He's there, blocking my progression. The door hits him in the back as I try to close it on him knowing that it's a waste of time. He's a fairly large guy with a clean look to him, blue jeans and a button-up maroon long sleeved shirt. He doesn't look the type but then again they never do. The normal look that he has to him is probably the reason why I'd overlooked him in the first place.

"Hey there, sexy, how are you this evening?" The gruffness of his voice fits the same as the one I'd heard earlier this evening. He reaches down for his pants zipper.

"You don't want to do this," I warn him, it's only fair that I make an attempt to discourage someone from pain, giving them a way out. Thoughts flow through his mind and into mine. Ones of him pinning me down and raping me. Punching me in the face repeatedly, ripping my clothes off. His plan is to finish and then strangle me. I can feel the delight and rush from him as he blocks my way. He rubs himself with one hand on the outside of his pants and jars the car door open with the other.

"Oh believe me, little lady, I do want to." He reaches in and grabs my shoulder joint and pulls me out of the car with a combination of my body and the fabric of my uniform. I drop my car keys onto the carpeted floor of the car. His grip on me hurts into my bone. I can feel the bruise forming almost immediately. My anger starts to flow throughout my body. He pushes my against the car and starts kissing me on the mouth, my eyes are shut tight. My back absorbs the force of his shove and the pain hits me, another instant blemishing act. My lips stay stiff and unresponsive to him and his aggression. He starts groping me, feeling my breasts over the material angrily and without concern to their well-being. The roughness of his facial stubble scratches my skin. I am ready to stop him. The heat has built up inside me with a ferocious intensity. I can feel the pleasures inside me, not from him, but from the wonderful heat that my powers create. I open my eyes to see his directly in front of mine. The blow of force shoots from me and into him. It strikes him just enough to free me from the mighty grasp of his huge paws. He stumbles backward, his hands holding his eyes. I take a moment to straighten the material on my shoulder and wipe the slobber off my face with my arm. My animal has been unleashed and if there's one thing Daniel had taught me in our final bout it was to not leave another standing in the end. The wind picks up around me, the gathering of atmosphere has commenced. He has no idea what I've just done to him. I hear him thinking that he's just undergone some random and inconvenient piercing pain in his head. He's also very worried about my escape. He doesn't want anyone, especially the police to find out. He is cowering back and groaning in pain.

"Yes, I'm sure that it does hurt. I warned you and told you that you don't want to do it and you had to go and do it anyway." I'm on fire, my hair tosses in the wind. I approach him as I make my speech.

"Where you're going, the police won't be an issue, until they come to collect you." This isn't my first encounter with this kind of guy and I'm sure it won't be my last, but I will do my best to eliminate them one by one in order to save another woman from a forever scarred life due to rape or even death. In that case, he'd be leaving a happy healthy family to live with the pain. He's read between the lines and has a bleak understanding of what I am and of what I'm about to do.

"Get away from my, lady!" I don't listen to orders like his once that line has been crossed. I could feel and see what was running through his mind and if he would've hit me or beat me like he'd planned to before he'd actually gotten down to business and left me for dead when he was done. He won't get the chance now or ever again. He stands up with his mitt over one of his eyes. A clear liquid is running down his face. I can't tell if it is wetness from tears or from the fact that his eye had exploded from the blast. It doesn't matter to me either way. He looks at me through his one good eye. The fear has replaced his sick desires. Oh God she's going to hurt me bad. What is she?

"You have no idea how much pain I'm going to cause you. Let's just compare it to the pain that you'd intended on causing me?" A look of surprise creeps over his face. The chain link fence blocking the alley to his rear rattles as he runs into it with his back during his retreat. It's an added shock to him knowing now there's no escape. How's this for a little more surprise? I think and push it into his mind. I invade his mind with my own voice this time, another talent that I've been blessed with using. His eye widens even further as I give him a little more tasting into the unknown and misunderstood.

"What are you going to do to me?" His voice shakes into the air. I am in the zone at this point and there is a degree of no return, we have reached it.

"You should've thought about that after I'd warned you." I am possessed and full with my power and have every intention of using it. I use my mind to pin his hulking body against the fence. His entire physical structure is shaking from the pain of the metal digging into his back. Anger rushes through his expression, he's trying to fight it. We aren't going to do anymore talking. I push harder with my force. The chain link digs further into his backside. A groan of anguish escapes him again. I will finish this now, no more messing around. I reach inside and grab his brain mentally. My power squeezes its gray matter hard. His resistant actions slow. His eyelid flutters and they roll upward. Mucus begins dripping from his lips onto his shirt leaving a wet spot as it's absorbed into the cloth. His brain functions cease. His arm from the popped eye falls away. I catch an accidental quick glimpse of what remains, the eyeball had exploded. His head slumps down and his chin rests on the upper portion of his chest. I take his whole body with my mind and lift it up into the sky in the direction of the dark silent corridor of a passage. I push it further and further over the top of the fence and into the alleyway. It flies like a slumping kite in a lazy spring breeze, his arms dangle as the torso soars. It is finished. He won't be able to do it to anyone else. His body lands in a trash pile as I drop it. The dark bags of garbage and junk envelope the cadaver when it hits the ground. Paper and Styrofoam fly into the air with the impacts, the pieces flutter and then quickly resettle on top of it like decoration. He is now trash among the trash. I'm sure it's going to be awhile before anyone discovers this low-life's body. I let my power subside and calm down. I feel a strange flush run from my face, something I've never felt before. I'm feeling dizzy and I have to stop to catch my balance. Sparkles flash in front of my eyes nearly blinding my sight and then my vision clears. I catch myself as I regain consciousness and clarity in my clouded head. My breaths are easy and flowing better now. I have to get home before Brandon wakes up and sees that I'm not there. I wobble my way back and get into the car. I brace myself with the door and lower myself inside. I close the door with an ached effort, my body hurts all over. I reach down to pick the keys up from the floor. I shuffle through them feebly finally finding the right one and go to place it into the ignition switch. My hand starts to shake so vigorously that I can't align the key with the slot. The dizziness comes again and the stars overwhelm my sight. The keys drop from my hand as I lose all coordination and feeling. I fade into an abyss of darkness.

****

I wake up before the alarm goes off for me to start getting ready for work and I see that Sarah's not in bed like she always is. What time is it? I peer through sleepy eyes at the clock taking a moment to actually be able to see what the LEDs say, it's four fifty in the morning and she's not here yet! I am in affright and jump from the bed, throwing the blankets heedlessly off and swinging my feet to the floor. I walk briskly to the dining room for the phone and quickly dial the number for her cell phone. It rings once. It rings again. She answers it.

"Sarah, where are you?" I'm still in a haze. She croaks a response.

"Brandon...I'm in the car in the parking lot at work. I must've passed out." She coughs slightly into the phone.

"Sweetie, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Bran. I'm on my way home." She hangs up on me without further explanation. I am left in a state of mental confusion as I take a glance back at the phone to ensure that she'd actually stopped the conversation so abruptly. I place the telephone back on the receiver. I know she'll explain things but what the hell is going on? She's never done anything like this before. I know she's tired but I didn't think it was this bad. She could've said something. She doesn't have to work if she doesn't want to, we have plenty of money. Our jobs are just hobbies and they aren't necessary for survival. I'll talk to her when she gets home. The next call will be to work to let them know that I won't be able to make it today. It doesn't happen often so it won't be a big deal. She finally arrives at five thirty. The coffee is ready as well as some scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. Since I'm not going to work today I thought I should make a deal out of it. She comes in and shuts the door quietly as to not wake the twins. I come out of the kitchen and stand by the doorway of the dining room. She looks up and across the room at me as she fiddles with the car keys. She drops them into her purse and lets her bag fall to the floor. A tear forms in her eye, I can see the glistening in the reflection of the light above. I am drying my hands on a towel because I'd just finished washing them after making breakfast and cleaning up. I was a little angry but now I'm filled with sorrow. I can feel her pain from where I'm standing and it sickens me. She kicks off her shoes and runs over to me. Our bodies collide. She hugs me tightly. Tears well in my eyes, I can feel her despair even more now with the physical contact and it troubles me profoundly. I squeeze her back tautly in reception. We stand at that point for what feels like an eternity. One of my hands goes to the back of her head and I hold it there, buried in my chest. We relax and come apart. My hand moves to her forehead, I'd noticed something while we were in the embrace. I touch it. It's raging against my palm.

"Sarah, are you feeling alright?" I ask her with great reverence.

"I don't feel well, Brandon." She even sounds rickety in her voice. I take hold of and bring her close to me.

"Sweetie, do you need me to draw you a bath or something?

"I'll be alright, Bran. Thank you for making breakfast. I'm sorry; I'm not hungry right now." Her weak voice is muffled against my chest. I kiss her scorching forehead, the heat flows into my lips. My poor lady, go to bed, I'll be in to check on you in a minute. I let her go. She strolls lazily down the hallway to the bedroom. I guess I'll be eating alone this morning. Just as the thought crosses my mind, a petite hand comes forth from a bedroom, it's Brie's. She comes out and scampers up to me. I scoop her up in my arms. She rubs the sleep from one of her eyes with her small fist as I give her a morning hug.

"Daddy, what happened to mommy?" She looks at me with moisture forming in her ducts. She catches me a little off guard with the inquisition.

"I don't know cutie. Daddy will find out later, mommy doesn't feel very well." We don't lie to our children or keep secrets from them either. If they're smart enough to ask, a parent should be intelligent enough to answer. "Are you hungry, Brie? I made some eggs and bacon." She sits up in my arms and looks at me, buoyantly alive and curious.

"You're not working today, Dad?" She's a smart little one.

"Nope, mommy's sick so I'm all yours today." I lower her down to the floor and we go to the dining room.

"Can we go to the park today?" Sweet innocence as she's perched in her chair. I stop in the doorway to the kitchen and respond.

"I don't see why not. It'll give your mom a little peace and quiet so she can get better." Her eyes light up. We go to the park but it's usually on the weekends and since today's Friday I'm going to say that our three day weekend has officially begun. I continue into the kitchen and grab the two plates and silverware and deliver them to the table. Brie sits patiently and politely in her chair. I then retrieve the cups, juice, and lastly the skillet with the eggs and the serving dish containing the brown slices of bacon. I serve it up and pour the orange juice into each of our glasses. I then sit and we commence in our breakfast consumption. She says thank you when we finish our breakfast and I welcome her. I clean the table off, placing everything into the sink for later cleanup. I take her hand and lead her down the hall dropping her off at her room and instructing her to quietly play so I can go in to check on Mommy.

I open the door to the bedroom and see that she's not in the bed. I hear the splash of water coming from the master bath in the bedroom. I go to the open door to see that she's lying in the bathtub having a soak. She opens her eyes and gives me a half smile. Her naked body surrounded by the bubbles from the bath beads that she always adds for the aromatherapy effect. The smell of warm lilac and lavender fills the room. It's soothing, as it should be. I shut the lid to the toilet and sit down on it for a chat.

"I would've done that for you," I begin the conversation.

"I know Brandon, it's okay." She's so weak sounding.

"Sarah, what happened?" I'd felt her anguish when she came in the house earlier and I can't wait any longer for an explanation.

"There was this guy in the casino. I'd heard his thoughts earlier during the night twice. I didn't see him..." The tears were coming again. I get off the seat and kneel beside the tub. I run my hand over her head and over the top of her hair. She's obviously physically okay. I grab a dry washcloth from the tub's rim. She's apparently not gotten that far in her bathing process. I dunk it into the lukewarm soapy water. I squeeze its contents over her shoulder, move to the center, and then to the other side. She tilts her head back to feel it flow against her skin. With the cloth completely drained, I place it back into the water beside her. I just let it hang there as I wait for her response to my question.

"He caught me in the parking lot while I was leaving and pulled me out of the car." Her hands go to her face in shame and to cover up the tear ducts. I reach in and hug her again not paying attention to the fact that my shirt sleeves are now soaking the water out of the bathtub and into them as I do it.

"It's alright, my love." I rub her hands lightly paying special attention to both of them in reassurance letting her know that things will be okay. "Did he hurt you?" She removes her hands and stammers and answer.

"No, but he got hurt." The tears stop coming. A curious look of what the reaction will be spreads across her face. I notice a slight bruising on her shoulder and I get angry.

"Darling, you know how I feel about the act when it comes to things like this and if he would've harmed you I can't even begin to tell you what I would've done." I say these words with my cheek against her forehead in a soft tone. It's the truth though, if any harm is to ever come to any member of my family, I will go on a murderous rampage.

"I know Brandon, it just shook me up. I haven't had to do that in years and then when it was over I went back to the car and passed out." Her tears have stopped flowing.

"It's alright babe, knowing that you're okay is all that matters. He got what he deserved." As I've explained previously, evil people mark no remorse onto my soul when they end up dead through our power. "Are you feeling any better? Get out and let me dry you off so you can go to bed. One second, let me grab your robe first." She nods her head. I stand and go to the hook near the door for the plush white housecoat. I take it from the hook and throw it over my shoulder. I grab a towel from the towel rack and go back to my wife. She stands up, the water dripping from her beautiful body. She steps out onto the bath rug and I gently pat her dry from head to toe. I finish and then hold out her robe for her, she puts one arm in at a time and turns back toward me and I tie the front of it snuggly. She wraps her hair in the towel. I follow her to the bed with my hands on her hips from behind. She flops down on the bed and I cover her up.

"Can I get you anything, Sarah?"

"No, honey, I just need sleep right now." I plant another kiss softly on her brow and leave the room, I turn back just before I exit.

"Sarah, I don't want you working there anymore, are you alright with that?" I love her too much to let this possibly happen again.

"I was thinking the same thing; I just wanted you to say it first." She's still shaky, but sounds relieved.

"I'm going to take the twins to the park a little later, okay?"

"Okay, handsome. Night, I love you." She smiles at me attractively. It's amazing how she can be sick and still pull off the beauty.

"I love you too." I lightly close the door behind me.

I walk down the hall and look into Ben's bedroom, he's not there. I proceed to Brie's room and she's playing with her toys quietly squatting on her floor.

"Brie, where's Ben?" I ask her quietly as to not alert Sarah.

"He went to get some breakfast I think." A matter of fact response, she doesn't miss a beat in the brushing of her dolls synthetic hair. I go to the dining room to find Ben sitting at the table with the milk, box of cereal, and a full bowl in front of him enjoying his morning meal.

"Hey there, buddy. Good morning." I rub his head, messing up his already askew tuft. He looks up at me, the milk running off his chin. I notice that he's grabbed one of the tablespoons out of the silverware drawer instead of a teaspoon more suited for his little mouth. It makes each spoonful enormous and too much for each bite. This is one of the things a kid learns through his independence.

"Morning, Dad." More milk spills from his lips and drips back into the bowl as he responds to me with a mouth full of grain. I sit at my chair so I can admire my little man in his growing up. I'm not here on the weekdays to see the twins during breakfast time and on the weekends I make it a point to be awake before they are. I try to have the meal ready for them since children have a tendency to be starving when they get up.

"Do you want to go to the park today, Benny?" He doesn't show much emotion in response to the question.

"Sure, we can do that." It's an interesting answer.

"Well, thanks for your permission little man." He understands my sarcasm. He looks at me and smirks. I can feel something strange going on with his emotions. He seems angry or annoyed about something. "What's wrong, Ben?" He stops and puts his spoon down, this time his answer doesn't come until he's finished chewing and his mouth is empty.

"Why did you make breakfast for Brie and not for me?" His eyes become teary. I get up from my chair and go over to him. I pick him up in my big dad arms and hug him. He responds after a few seconds but there is still some resentment.

"Ben, I didn't make breakfast for Brie. The breakfast was for your mom and me but she's not feeling well so I shared with Brie. I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up.' He hugs me back. I feel the anger as it leaves him and the love replaces it. I pat him on the back compassionately. "Are you okay now?" His head rests on my shoulder and he muffles his reply.

"Yeah, Dad I'm fine." He's such a smart boy. I set him back in his chair so he can finish his cereal, he continues where he left off before his emotional status had interrupted him. I go into the bedroom to check on Sarah. I silently open the door and slip inside. She's asleep. She's kicked the covers down past her feet but she has the thick robe wrapped around herself and she looks peaceful. I go to her and place a hand gently on her forehead, her fever is gone. I'm happy. I hate it when she's sick, it doesn't happen often but when it does I get very concerned. I leave her in her slumber. It's time to get the twins ready to go out and give her the silence she deserves.

I get them ready to go, they don't need help with dressing I just have to pick out their clothes for them and brush their flowing locks. They are excited and hurriedly prepare themselves for the walk and the playing that awaits them. They put on their own shoes and tie them, due to an issue that I'd had as a kid we've made sure to the fact that they are able to tie their own laces before the beginning of the school year. They aren't great at it yet but they are getting better.

We're out the door and on our way. We exit the house and I turn to lock the door behind us, placing the key back into my pocket afterward. We walk down the driveway. They walk next to me politely as they've been taught to. Sarah and I think that there's nothing worse than children out of control. The one's whose parents haven't taken the time to let a child know who is in charge, especially when you've got a pair like mine, children with endless possibilities. We continue on our way, it's about three blocks to our destination. They stop once in a while to inspect a caterpillar on the cement as it slowly wriggles its way from the grass to the other side. Does it know what fate awaits it once it gets to the curb and inches its adventurous path onto the asphalt? Some concerned souls stop it and place it out of danger. Others don't get involved in the life saving but don't wait to find out what the future will bring it and simply walk away from the scene. Can a person truly have a clear conscience knowing that they could've intervened and didn't? If there is an armed robbery in a store and you had the means to stop it before things get out of hand do you? Or do you just pretend that you can do nothing and standby? How can a person live knowing they could've done something to help? I'll never be able to comprehend it. We continue down the sidewalk and finally come to our destination. The park has everything, it's a giant combination playground set up with the assorted monkey bars, slides, a swing set, and climbing things for the kids to enjoy. It's brightly colored with the primaries, the green, blue, and yellow basics. The whole thing has a sand protection below in case of a fall. Sand may hurt but it inflicts a lot less pain than concrete or asphalt. There are a couple of other children playing, one little girl on the swings and a little boy in the sand beneath the structure of the prefabricated playground equipment digging. Ben runs off to the jungle gym. He leaves the two of us standing on the grass, excited to begin playing. Brie looks up at me for approval to do the same, I nod and she runs off to the swings. A woman sits on a nearby bench reading a book, she must be the mother. She seems to be totally engrossed in her reading and paying no mind to her children. It's a lone bench near the edge of the sand box in perfect placement for the watchful eyes of parents to relax on while the children play. I don't bother looking but I am sure that bubble gum probably decorates the underside because in the past when I've sat on it the stickiness from spilled juice and soda on the seat has always been ultimately appealing to my ass. I go and sit on the other end of it near the woman. Ben ignores the other boy and immediately proceeds to the highest point of the playground, the big slide. The woman and I exchange pleasantries.

"Hi. Nice day today isn't it?" I keep things simple, I don't want there to be any confusion in thinking that I'm flirting. She's a fairly thin woman wearing plain sweatpants and an ordinary white V-neck t-shirt. Her scrawny legs are crossed at the knees and she's rhythmically bouncing the one on top of the other. Her dirty laces sway back and forth with the movements. Her dishwater-blonde hair is pulled back in a banana clip, her glasses rest on the tip of her narrow sloped nose. She doesn't bother looking up from her reading.

"Yep, it sure is." I'm guessing there's no point in even trying to engage in conversation with her. Ben seems to be having fun just sitting at the top of the playground structure. He's crouched up there and quiet. Brie is swinging as high as she can in competition with the other girl but it looks like she's doing her normal thing and letting her win in height. Her compassion for others astounds me sometimes. Since an off-the-wall pleasant chat between the mother and I isn't going to happen, I decide to go over and give Brielle some pushes on the swing. I approach her with a fatherly smile and a silly entertaining swagger in my steps.

"Hi, Daddy," she announces my arrival with a smile and a boisterous giggle. Her blue eyes glitter and her long blond hair flies back and forth with the swinging motions.

"Hi cutie, would you like a push?" I already know the answer to the question so I immediately assume the position behind her before she replies and start the methodical movements. She laughs more joyously as the swing goes higher and higher, well beyond the other girl's self-propelled efforts. The late morning sun is beginning heat up the air. I start to sweat a bit from my efforts, I feel a couple of droplets run down my back and down beyond my pants waist. Suddenly there is an eerie high pitched scream from where the boys are playing. My eyes dart over from the swings to see the mother kneeling in the sandbox next to her son. I run over to see what's going on. She's holding his head in her sweat pant covered lap. His eyes are fixated on the sky and he's mumbling inaudibly. There is a small crust of drool on the corner of his lips.

"What happened?" I ask her excitedly.

"I don't know. I just looked at him a few minutes ago and he was fine. He was just playing in the sand." She's rubbing his cheek trying to get him to respond, her effort to free him from his trance. He looks like a person in the insane asylum on the bed after being given too much medication to calm his nerves.

"I think you should take him to a doctor, maybe he's dehydrated or something?" By the looks of her, she doesn't strike me as the kind of mother who cares much about her children. There is no sense of urgency as there should be. All I'm getting out of her now is anger and understandable frustration.

"I think I'd know if my son needed water." She is angered further by my comment. "He's had plenty to drink today."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to question or offend you but I still think you should bring him to the hospital. Do you need help bringing him to your car?" I don't wait for an answer to the question. It's not a time to argue, it's a time for action. "Where did you park?" The girls have gathered in close behind us to see what's happening. Brielle has her hands over her mouth in awe. The other girl doesn't seem to know what to think and is dumbfounded by the whole thing. The mother points to the street and the white four door sedan parked on the side next to the playground. I pick the boy up and carry him to the car for his mother. She has the girl's hand and is rapidly leading her to the vehicle. She opens the back door for me. I set the boy in the seat and then buckle him in. He begins to come out of the catatonic state he's in. He looks up at me with tears in his eyes.

"My head hurts, Mister." He tells me, very lightly and barely audible. I look into his eyes and rub his hair for comfort. All that I can gather from him is confusion which would be typical in a boy who is dehydrated.

"You're going to be alright, okay?" My hand moves to the side of his face and I give him a wink. I shut the car door as the mom opens the one on the other side for the little girl. The girl jumps in and the door is slammed. The mother gets in the drivers' side speedily and is off in just as much of a hurry. You're welcome lady! What an ingrate. I watch as the car turns at the T intersection and is out of view. I turn back toward the twins, as I near them I notice Brielle staring up at Bennett. I look up at him as well. He's holding the shovel that the little boy once had. I fly off the handle with anger.

"What did you do?!" I am caught off guard right now because I realize what just occurred and it brings back memories of the past, thoughts of what I'd gone through as a child. Dealing with these powers is not an easy task. It takes time to learn how to use them properly and then there is the hardest decision of all...what do I use them for? This time Ben had used them for the benefit of himself. His first display and why did it have to be a bad one? He stands atop the plastic piece and stares down at me without expression. He apparently doesn't feel the depth and seriousness of his doings.

"Get down here right now!" The last thing I can do right now is let him get away with harming another. He drops his head in shame and slowly departs leaving the shovel in place as he goes. He shuffles down the steps and onto the sand. I grab him by the shoulders in a stern fatherly manner and crouch down to face him.

"Do you realize what you've done?" I ask forcefully.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Tears start forming in the bottoms of his eyes. He knows he was wrong; I just need to be certain that he is remorseful. I know the other child will be alright with no permanent damage. Ben feels genuinely bad for what he did. My eyes start to tear up as well, sharing in his emotions. I stop them from forming completely as to not show weakness in the moment, blinking them away.

"What you did was wrong." I stare straight into his eyes so he can feel my anger and disappointment. 'Do you understand the severity of what just happened?' The pools in his deep browns start to form droplets and begin their travels down his cheeks. He begins to sniffle and stammer as little kids do.

"I...mmm...sor...ry...Da...d." I feel his pain full force. It flows into my head and strikes my heart like a baseball bat hitting a homerun. He is so sorry. I pull him into my chest and hug him tightly. I know how he feels, wholeheartedly.

"Don't ever do that again, Bennett. We'll show you the right way to use your abilities. Don't let it control you. You're in charge, Ben. Remember that." I rub my rough palm against his little back in comfort and understanding. I've felt his pain in the past and the compassion I have for my boy is great. Brie comes in from behind and hugs my back tightly. She buries her cheek against me.

"It's alright, Daddy." Her voice is so soft and reassuring.

"I know, sweetie." I turn slightly and reach for her grabbing her like a bad comedy actor on the stage getting removed and bring her in with Ben. I hold both of my little dears in my arms and we embrace each other in assurance and love.

"Let's go home." I say to them. I dry Ben's tears with my shirt and kiss them each on the forehead before we leave the park.

Upon return, we find Sarah up and obviously feeling better, still in her housecoat nibbling on some lunch on the sofa.

"Hi, Mommy," The twins yell in unison as they run to the couch and crowd her on both sides. A huge smile covers her face. She quickly sets her bowl down on the coffee table and hugs each of them with the right and the left.

"Hello, my babies. Did you have fun?" I don't wait for them to make a reply.

"Kids, I need you to go to your rooms and play. I need to talk to mommy." They dismiss themselves, Sarah stops them for a quick peck on each of their foreheads and they're on their way. I watch down the hall as they go, waiting for them to disappear beyond the frames of the doorways. I face Sarah and start to explain.

"Let's go into the dining room, it's important." As I say it I tilt my head in the proper direction, motioning to her. She acknowledges my request and gets off the leather sofa grabbing her bowl after she stands. I let her lead the way in. She goes into the kitchen momentarily to drop her dirty dish into the sink and returns to me sitting at my chair at the opposing end of the table. She assumes a squat next to me in one of the twin's boosters. In light of the current situation, I let forth a small giggle. I find it amusing that she'd choose to sit there. Her sickness is gone and her witty sense of humor has returned. She does her normal thing whenever I've got something serious to say and places her head on top of her hands in a cradle. She then begins to bat her eyelashes at me. She's having fun but I still grasp her full and undivided attention every time.

"Sarah, we have a problem, well not a problem per se, but an issue." I have an open mind right now and hadn't realized it.

"Oh my God, Bran, Bennett's got it?" She's not surprised really as much as excited. She already knows that the boy is alright from Ben's actions because I'd fed her the whole scenario in its entirety as I'd begun my mental preparations for the explanation.

"Sarah, I don't know how tough it was for you but what Ben did today, you understand how serious this is for him?" I'm serious about the whole situation now; I can feel the wrinkles in my brow invading my eyes, pushing the skin down from above.

"I know, Brandon. We've had this discussion before. The farm, your grandfather, and the kittens, I know, I haven't forgotten." She reaches for my face and rubs my cheek with the back of her hand trying to get me to relax. I know what she is doing and respond appropriately letting my forehead relieve its strain. I reach up and take her hand in mine.

"We have to help him and make sure he keeps it under control and uses it properly. You already understand the importance, but you didn't have to go through the shit that I was, especially when I was a kid."

"Brandon, Daniel's gone now. I don't think anything like that will ever happen to one of our kids." She's not getting it. For being such an intelligent woman, she has a hard time seeing the big picture most of the time. I'm a pessimist and she's an optimist, we balance each other in that way.

"Sarah, there are so many things that could happen. Like today, he could've killed that kid. You realize that right?"

"Brandon, he's not that strong, he's new to the power. Do you really think he could cause that much damage?" She is genuinely questioning me.

"When did you get yours? Were you like four or five years old?"

"No, Bran, I didn't get my powers until I was ten, that was the first time I'd accidentally made something happen, it was in defense." I was shocked. It hadn't been a discussion until now. I don't know why, it just wasn't a topic.

"Sarah, I got mine when I was Ben's age and when they came to me it was too much to handle. We have to help him before he starts school. You didn't see that boy's face. We were lucky he didn't do more damage than he did." I rub her hand with mine, caressing it. "We can't let them find us, Sarah." Tears appear in her brown eyes. I feel her fear and the pain of the loss of her parents. The mention of the Society affects her like this every time, so we avoid the talks.

"We'll help him, Bran I know it's our job." I reach over to her and take her tear with a finger and wipe it away then stand and plant a kiss sincerely on her forehead.

"I love you, Sarah."

"I love you too, Brandon."

And so the training begins.

Within the weeks following the discussion, Ben's education had begun. We started simply as, dare I mention his name, Daniel, had with me upon my discovery and capture. Instructing a near five year old little boy is much different than the instructions of a twenty eight year old man. Ben's experiences were also very limited compared to mine, so it enhanced the difficulty in the guidance. We'd begun in the backyard as I had in the past. Unlike me he wasn't alone in the activity. Rubber bouncy balls of assorted colors were the chosen beginning weapon of choice because it's hard to damage things with a ball of air. We could've used balloons I guess, but it would've been annoying blowing them up every time. Ben would stand in the center of the lawn and I would tell him what he needed to do.

"Ben, you see that blue one over there?" I have them scattered everywhere, the singularly colored ones for a simpler block of instruction for a young not formally educated lad. "You need to visualize it in your head." Before I get any further with it the ball begins to roll slightly.

"Good, now lift..." It then starts to rise from the ground leaving the soft blades of grass matted below it. He surprises me with the control he has. It is possible the whole issue I'd had as a child was entirely to blame on the mental interception from Daniel. The ball rises further and further into the atmosphere. The breeze surrounding us is minimal. When Sarah and I use the gift the wind brings itself to us in gusts. I may be teaching him but it seems as though he's creating more questions than I am providing answers in his guidance. The sphere climbs up to the top of the oak tree which stands high in the middle of the yard. I watch the ball in its ascension like a UFO getting lost by the cameraman as he looks through his lens trying to catch a good photo to sell to the skeptical media. I adjust my sights to Ben; his eyes are black and lacking the whites that belong there. It strikes a fear in me. The only two times I remember seeing it work this way was when Daniel had me in his spell and used me to do things I usually wouldn't on my own. The other time was in my 'grandfather's' eyes during his possession. Both of the incidents were derived from Daniel, he was the cause of all things bad in my life. The death of my grandmother, my grandfather, my father, and in all reality I blame him for my mother as well. It scares me so badly that I decide to stop Ben. I shorten the distance between us, he pays me no attention. He's still ablaze. His eyes are still soaked in deep brown. It's the color of dried blood. A small dry twig of a branch cracks beneath my sandaled foot, I wasn't prepared. The ball explodes in the air. The rubber pieces of blue fall heavily from above. Bennett is delivered back to the surrounding reality of the backyard. The breeze stopped. The ball hits the grass, bits scattered in a six foot radius. I look back at my son, he's staring up at me with droplets standing in his eyes, welling and ready to fall. I kneel next to him and wrap one arm around him pulling him against my side.

"Ben, don't worry about it. You did very well. I couldn't move things on purpose until I was a lot older than you are. The next step is control. This is your power and nobody else can have it, not even me. Do you understand that?" He looks at me. He's feeling better about what just happened.

"I kilt the ball, Dad. That can't be alright." He's better but still not clear about the whole thing. It's my job to make him feel better.

"Bennett, listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? Sometimes when we use the power things like that happen. All you need is practice, buddy. Everything will be fine." I have confidence in him. I know he'll be okay. It's my job to ensure that he is. Another interesting thing I noticed about all of it, besides the lack of wind, is he's not showing any signs of weakness from the natural wear and tear of using his gift. Sarah and I both experience exhaustion, even now when we use it extensively. He's not even expressing any feelings of tiredness. We continue to work with Ben for the remaining portion of the summer.

The children have a small family birthday party. We have the house decorated in two different chosen themes, we let them choose. It's a pleasant day filled with laughs and enjoyment. We bought Ben a chemistry set specifically made for a child of five, well between the ages of five and eight actually. It only contained the basic elements for him to dabble with and learn how certain things work. For Brie, we buy a dollhouse as requested with all of the décor and fancy little playthings for a girl of her age to enjoy. With the end of the summer birthdays gone we know that school is the next step and there's new clothing to be purchased and school supplies to be had. Those things could've been bought in lieu of the toys for the birthday celebration, but we think that it would've taken the enjoyment from it all so we make a separate event out of it completely. We plan our trek for a Saturday. With Sarah not working, she'd insisted that she take them shopping by herself but I explained to her that I know she's bored and I understand but I'd like to make a family affair of it. She succumbed to my request after a little bit of consideration and understanding. So when the day arrives we load up in the car and we are on our way for a day of school shopping.

We approach the mall, the parking lot is filled. We apparently aren't the only parents who've waited until the week before the big event to shop for our kids. After several passes through the lot, I am like a sentry wondering aimlessly and looking in both directions as I lapse each place. I finally stop the car and wait in the middle as another one backs out of a spot fairly close to the entrance to the mall. It backs out completely and it is placed in drive, it darts out of the way. I pull into the spot, park the car, and turn the key to the off position.

"Alright, everybody, let's go." I announce to the shared inhabitants. All buckles release at once, the fabric recoiling into the retractors sounds like the hiss of a snake. Sarah and I get out first and go to the back of the vehicle to open the doors for the children. Sarah takes charge of Ben and I take Brie, hand in hand as we walk toward the shopping center. The building is huge, although it looks miniscule on the outside compared to the inside. It's perfect and inviting to anyone who approaches it. Windows line the bottom of the building all the way around. Most of those are the restaurants located on the exterior in order to obtain a more appealing eating environment I'll assume. The brightness from the outside sun and the greenery surrounding the mall are pleasing to the eye and the added natural illumination makes a plate of food look that much better. We near the glass and brass handled dual swing doors. I reach in first and open the door for my gallant family, kids first then Sarah. She passes me with a smile and a bat of the eyelashes.

"Thank you, kind sir." I nod a "you're welcome me lady" in response as the giddy schoolboy crush feeling is passed through a grin of awkwardness. It's a restraint from the sexual vision that is currently coursing through my brain. When she acts all perfect and shy, I really enjoy that very much, it actually turns me on. I let her pass along with the thought that I'm more than sure she's seen also. The door closes behind as I enter. We walk into the hallway riddled with stores. Every inch of this place is consumed by retailers as all shopping malls are. As we near the end of the hall, the building opens up to us. It's vast like a baseball stadium in height, the skylight of windows above light a food court with an assortment of other things. There are tables set in a small area off to the side of the area, only about half of them have currently have occupants. Dead center is a fountain filled with the coinage dropped by thousands of patrons in hopes that a wish may come true. A dream fulfilled by dropping change into a shopping center fountain, that is highly unlikely and very amusing at the thought. Sarah looks up at me from my side and scoffs, she is the optimist. Benches and greenery surround the fount in a square fashion, an elderly couple sits on one of the seats very closely admiring the water flow and conducting idle chit chat. To be old and in love, Sarah and I will have that someday. She nudges me with one of her arms. I catch a grin from peripheral vision. I let one spread across my face. There is a small colorful merry-go-round near the terrarium off to the side of the courtyard. It's fashioned with an old antiqueness. The paint on the horses around it has a faded look beneath the sheen of the overcoat of varnish. The metal holding them in place is a highly polished brass with a spiraling line flowing from the top to the sticky soda stained floor. The carousel's music is high pitched in its melody. It's like a gentle whistling and soothing rather than bothersome to the ears. We continue on our way to one of the more popular and a little more costly department stores knowing that we can turn this expedition into a one-stop-shop money spending experience. This is a day for the family and completing the venture quickly will ensure more time for the following plans.

We enter the department store and go immediately to the girls' clothing area. Women and girls always get first pick since they take the longest in picking out clothing and with Sarah guiding the ship things are going to be awhile. She knows what she likes and that's the problem, when Sarah goes in having particular looks in mind, let's just say that it makes things a bit more complicated. It's another thing that I love about her, fashion sense. I am interrupted in thought to see her watching me with one of her eyebrows cocked up. She apparently disapproved of my previous comments. Sorry, sweetie. I think for her. She returns to the rummaging through the clothing racks. Brie's search for new school threads has taken about an hour. I've been constantly checking my watch. I can't complain, the choice was mine and I made it, an issue of it actually, so now I had to live with it. Bennett, on the other hand can't apparently, he's tugging on my pant leg.

"What's up, buddy?" I look down at him as he stares up to me like a little new brown-eyed puppy sitting by the supper table begging for scraps.

"Dad, I have to go to the bathroom." He grabs at the front of his shorts. I reach down and motion his hand away.

"Alright, Ben, don't do that though. We'll go now." I say it in a whisper so nobody else hears as to not cause embarrassment. "Sarah, we're going to the restroom." She hears me but doesn't stop her ransacking of the rack as Brie stands next to her with the occasional yes and no, mommy.

"Okay, Bran." I take Ben's hand and we go.

We exit the store and walk a ways down the corridor into the atrium and take a left down another hall. The bathrooms are all the way on the end near the opposite exit then we'd come into the mall. We pass down another long hallway leading to the lavatories, find the men's clearly marked, and enter. The smell of urine and fresh mint hits me in the face as soon as the door is opened. The odors surround us once it is closed again. It is so bad that I nearly change my mind and think twice about using the handicapped one instead, those are always much cleaner. I decide against it, tolerance is the key to success right? Sometimes we have to choose a disgusting right versus a beautifully clean wrong. The bathroom has three stalls and a couple of urinals, I open the door to one of the stalls for Ben and he goes in. A boy of five is more comfortable using the potty like the one at home. He can use a urinal when he feels as though he's ready to. I close the door, he latches it, and I stand guard outside. There are no other occupants that I can tell but in this day and age one can never be too cautious. There are some sick people in this world, do you watch the news? Child abductions, kidnappings, molestations, or murder, what is this world coming to? I begin to whistle a tune. The sound resonates throughout the room, wonderful acoustics. I will find you. The voice rings in my head loudly, my whistling stops along with my heart. I glance around. The only other thing that I hear is Ben's stream hitting the toilet water. I begin looking frantically under the one stall that Ben is in, only his feet. With my hands touching this floor, my feelings of revolt are enhanced by multitudes but it doesn't matter. I crawl to the next one and look underneath, no feet. I open the door with my shoulder, empty. I go to the next one and peek beneath the door, I don't see anything. I push on the door. It's latched from inside and won't freely swing for me. I stand and apply my upper body weight against it, nothing. I don't care anymore. Ben's flow has stopped, he's shuffling around in the stall.

"You alright, buddy?" I ask gruffly as I prepare for the attack.

"I'm good," he replies innocently. I tense the muscles in my shoulder, back off a little, and then slam my more than six foot frame against the door. The metal from the latch rings out as it tings against the floor and the door pops open. I nearly lose my balance catching myself with both hands quickly in reaction against the tiles of the wall. The stall is void of presence. I must have been hearing things. The metallic slide of the latch in Ben's cubicle sounds. He comes out.

"I'm all done, Dad." I look down at him and smile. He doesn't need any of my stress.

"Okay, Ben. Wash your hands." He acknowledges with a nod and goes to the sink, washes almost too thoroughly, and then goes to the automatic hand blower. The timer runs out and his little hand goes to push it again.

"No, Ben your mom and sister are waiting for us." Ah, childhood innocence. He drops his hand but it feels as though he understands. We walk to the door and I open it for him to lead the way out. I take a step out. Brandon. I jump again as the voice gently flows through my brain like a gentle ripple on a lake. It's soft and pure but frightens me just the same. I turn my head back toward the interior of the restroom even though I know that it didn't come from there. I kind of wish it had.

We return to find Sarah and Brie both with handfuls of clothing. Sarah's doing her last minute inspection of the racks with one hand to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

"Hey, sweetie," I say to Brielle.

"Hi, Dad," Her voice is muffled against the material of the piled clothes in her girly arms. I relieve her of most of the load by reaching in and scooping them up. She lets a sigh of relief out. I leave her with the responsibility of a couple of outfits. My mantra fills my melon. Sarah doesn't need to be bothered right now. Our day is already full enough. Brie smiles gleefully at me and I grin back. Sarah turns to me.

"Alright, we're done here." She shoves the clothing from her hands into mine. This pile is huge but my muscles can handle it. I snicker a bit at the picture of myself right now with this great pile of colors in my arms. Sarah doesn't pay any attention, she's in shopping mode. She goes and takes Ben's hand.

"Come on, little man time for some shopping." Ben just looks irritated by the whole thing, but lets his mother take him away to the boys clothing section. Brie and I stand there for a moment, silent. Suddenly we both let out hysterical laughter, I don't know if it was us being left standing covered in piles or Ben's face as Sarah dragged him away that caused it. It was probably a combination of the two. We look at each other, gather ourselves, and follow. Ben's ordeal only lasts about a half an hour instead of the two and a half it took for Brie. When asked by his mother if he liked something, the answer was generally a yes unless he truly didn't want what she'd chosen. We go to the register and pay for the clothing but not before stopping by the shoe department for five pairs for Brie and three for Ben. I won't even begin to discuss the headache that was. Buying footwear for children has got to be one of the most tedious tasks I've ever gone through. We spend a hefty chunk of change here and we are thanked for our patronage by the salesperson asking us if we'd be interested in applying for an in store credit card. That kind of wipes the pleasant "thank you's" out of a purchaser's mind to be truthful. We gather our bags and move our fun to the food court and atrium area of the mall, lunch time is here. I stand watch by the table on the purchases while Sarah takes both of the children to an in the shopping center fast food restaurant.

I hold the twins' hands standing in the line, there aren't that many people waiting so it shouldn't take very long. I glance over at Brandon. He's just standing there looking handsome, scoping around. It seems like he's admiring the fountain as I am admiring him. Bran has a strange obsession with running water that I don't understand at all. He loves to have sex in the shower which is fun but he likes it a lot, possibly too much if that's possible. I love it too but not nearly as much as he does. A pool or a Jacuzzi, don't get me started. He's told me before that a secluded pool of natural water with a waterfall is his ultimate fantasy. That one would be highly enjoyable. We haven't had the opportunity to do that yet with the avoidance and all. My babies stand quietly next to me and wait patiently. Sarah. I hear a voice. It's a calming whisper in my head, smooth and soothing like rocking in a rocking chair on a porch with a warm gentle breeze blowing through your hair. I scan around. My head becomes heavy suddenly. A blaze of stars paints over my eyes. I can't see anymore. I feel my knees give as I fall to the floor.

****

I see it as it happens, Sarah falling to the ground like a marionette's puppeteer letting the wooden cross attached to the strings go, drop. I leave our luggage where it sits and run to her jumping the five stairs leading into the atrium. She fell directly backwards with nobody behind to catch her. Shit, Sarah. She probably cracked her head on the hard tile floor. The Ben stands in shock, Brie kneels beside her with her hand on her mother's stomach, crying already. I reach her. Onlookers from the front of the line stare at us.

"Somebody call 911!" I drop down by her. Don't move her. I tell myself. Her neck may be injured too. I place my fingers against her carotid artery to check for a pulse, it's there. Oh thank God. I move my hand over her mouth to feel for breathing, present. I'm too confused to cry and too worried about my love to freak out. I have tunnel vision, her. She is the only thing that I see right now. I want to lift her head and check for bleeding but know that I can't and it hurts so badly knowing that I'm once again helpless. I've been so lost before and I will not be gone again.

"Sarah," I place my palm against her cheek and softly caress it. "Sarah, please wake up. Open your eyes honey." One of the bystanders is on his cell phone as directed by the sound of panic and explanation in his shaky voice. We wait, she doesn't respond to me. She lays there unconscious until the ambulance arrives. I hold the children as the emergency medical technicians tend to my soul mate. I have to remain strong for them. They are both crying out of worry and confusion. Their mother just collapsed to the ground as they stood next to her waiting quietly for a meal. This has never happened before. My wife is only thirty two years old, what could be wrong with her? The med techs place a neck brace on her and put her on the backboard. They do their one, two, three count and lift her to the gurney. The buckles are secured neatly around her motionless body. Seeing her like this makes the floodgates open slightly. Pools form in my lower lids. I can't cry right now. I have to stay strong. I blink them away. One of the EMTs announces the hospital name and asks me if I know of its location as they pass. I tell him that I do. We watch them as they near the hallway exit and we go to retrieve our meaningless shopping bags. We all share in the workload and rapidly exit the shopping center. The car is hastily loaded, kids in, and we depart the lot on the way unexpectedly to the hospital. Driving becomes a chore with the downtown weekend traffic and my teary eyed blurry vision but we make it safely. The twins sniffle in the back seat the entire way with many reassuring words vomiting from my mouth. I have no idea what to tell them in explanation and I don't lie to them, everything that escapes me is uneducated guessing delivered as pleasantly as I know how.

We pull into the hospital parking lot and get out of the car quickly. I jaunt with the children at each side still wiping their tears. We go inside and straight to the reception desk. Greeted by a white haired pleasant elderly woman, I immediately ask her where I can find my wife. I told you that I knew of the hospital, I didn't say that I'd been inside it before. She politely answers my inquisition while she pours expressions of sorrow and pity to the kids. I appreciate but ignore the facial expressions, thank her, take the children's hands, and proceed to the emergency entrance in search of Sarah. Of course it is located on the complete opposite side of the medical facility. We dodge passersby and avoid people walking too slowly by going around them. My poor sweet babies are nearly being dragged behind me but they understand the urgency of the situation and their short legs move as rapidly as possible. I take their stature into consideration and slow my strides a bit despite my desperation to find Sarah and to not miss a moment of the medical care she's about to receive. I need to find out what's happening to my spouse. We arrive in the emergency room center, also known as the trauma room I'm told. That's very discouraging. I stop at the nurse's station and announce my arrival. The frazzled and frantic aid, in spite of her hurriedness, tells us where we need to go by pointing toward a wall of numerous thin, light blue curtains parallel each other in the corner.

"She's in the third one on the left, Mister Smith."

"Thank you," I say as I go to Sarah. The children are still teary eyed and breathing hard.

"Daddy, can we get some water?" Brielle asks as she points a petite finger in the direction of a fountain on the wall in the opposite end of the room.

"Sure, honey. You know where I'm going so just come over when you guys are done."

"K, Daddy." Brie and Ben walk over to the water fountain and I go to Sarah's room made from curtain. I near the space quickly in my haste. The end of the material is open for all to see inside. Only two of the others are occupied. One has a moaning old man being tended to by a nurse, he's hooked up to an intravenous (or I.V.) bag hanging on a metal rack beside him. By the way he's holding his stomach, I'd guess it's nothing more than a stomach ache but then again, I'm no doctor. The second has a boy who's, I'd guess, probably around nine years old. He is holding a cloth to his face that is soaked in blood. His mother is standing next to the bed biting her nails in her nervousness. He's calm with redness in his eyes. He just sits there, silently propped up with a pillow behind him. I don't take the time to consider what he did to accomplish the cut to his face. There are so many possibilities when it comes to children. They have so many accidents and there are also other patient stalls that I'd rather not think about which involve bad people. I go to the last cubicle to find her. She's awake now. Oh thank God. I run in to her and embrace her wholly, both of my big arms grabbing her. The tears begin to flow freely from my eyes making the shoulder of her shirt wet. She wraps her arms around me as well.

"Oh my God, Sarah," her voice muffles against the cloth and underlying flesh. "I was so worried about you."

"Mommy!" The twins run in and hug her legs. I stand and wipe my eyes with my fingertips. Sarah smiles as she observes their love from her pillow comforted head.

"Hey, my babies," she announces with a crackled but still musical voice. She holds out her arms to welcome them to her. They proceed to her upper half and she gathers them into one of her arms squeezing them tightly. The nurse from the front desk interrupts our reunion.

"Misses Smith, the doctor wants to admit you for some additional tests, if that's alright?" She addresses her by her alias. I've already explained that whole situation. It's amazing how easy a person can acquire a false identity from someone off the streets. Sarah lets out a scoff. I immediately look at her. Sarah, they have to check you out. This is the second time you've passed out in the last couple of months. She's paying attention to my thoughts.

"Alright," She looks at me as the nurse leaves to gather the paperwork from her desk.

"Brandon, I'll be fine you know." She's a bit angry with me but keeps her voice down so others don't hear her.

"Sarah, I'm not going to have what happened at the mall happen again if it can be avoided." I'm stern in tone so she understands the extremity of my concern. "I realize that you are the one who has to go through everything, but I refuse to stand by and not try to stop it. You need this." Her facial expression smoothens and she looks into my eyes knowing that I love her very deeply.

"Thank you, Brandon. Thank you for loving me and caring for me so much. I love you." She is very serious when she delivers these notes to my ears. I already know that she loves me and she knows that I love her but to hear it in this situation confirms it even further. Our love means everything to me. She is my world. Ben and Brie are bickering about something. It seems as though they are better, as am I, seeing that their mother is alright. Ben gets in the last word as usual and they quit before I need to say anything to them. The nurse returns with the admittance paperwork and has Sarah fill in her information. She goes for a moment once it's finished and returns with two individuals and a wheelchair.

I move to other side of the bed to clear an already narrow path for the guy with the chair.

"I don't need a wheelchair," Sarah tells the man.

"Ma'am, it's hospital policy and I have to follow the rules or you'll get me in trouble." His voice is gruff but his worry of a problem makes him sound as though he's a big rough teddy bear. Sarah acknowledges and collaborates with the aid. She sits up and pivots on the bed, then swings her feet to the floor. I am standing watch on the opposite side with the twins, one hand on each little shoulder. I have a sudden flashback as she stands wobbly and quickly places her hand against the man. He catches her in a speedy response. My body moves with the motion of her possibly falling to the floor again, but immediately I realize that the nurse has things under control and I stop myself. If I never have to see her fall like in the mall ever again, I'll be happy. I don't know if I can handle seeing it. He lowers her into the chair and wheels her toward her room on the third floor. The twins and I follow behind. There isn't enough room for us to walk next to them, too many people in our path. I notice all of the faces upon approach glance down at Sarah and then quickly look away. Looks of pity show in their brows. As we walk it makes me wonder. What exactly are they feeling the pity for? Is it the fact that she is so beautiful and young? Is it the small family that's following behind her? We are a dream family I think. We have a boy and a girl who are simply adorable and we all are blessed in the genetics department. It's too bad because they don't know the half of it. My thoughts are interrupted. Bran, this is bullshit. It's Sarah. Why is everyone staring at me? Damn I hate this. I wish this guy would hurry up. I return my thoughts to her. Honey, I know but we have to do this. We'll be there soon. They're checking you out, just think of it that way okay. She returns a projection. I love you. I crack a smile even though she can't see me. I love you too, Sarah. We finally arrive at the elevator doors. He presses the button for up and shortly thereafter the doors open. We enter the box on a cable. Elevators aren't the most enjoyable thing for me. I don't know if it's the feeling of being helpless and trapped in a box or if it's the fact that there's a small cable holding a damn heavy box in midair from stories above. We all turn to face them as the doors close. The twins are being quiet and seem to be absorbing their surroundings. Brielle is humming quietly and holding the stainless steel handrail that borders the entire holding cell. Ben stands next to his mother. His hand is on hers on the armrest of the wheelchair. Bennett can be a very loving and caring child when he wants, but that side of him doesn't expose itself as often as I'd like him to. I am not generally the one on the receiving end when this happens anyway. Brie is an all-around loving child who evenly disburses her emotional approval, completely unlike her brother. I think it's because I'm the disciplinarian in the house, then again I haven't been very hard on the boy. My thoughts are ceased as the doors begin to open. We all rush out of the elevator. I am relieved to be free of the deathtrap. The nurse takes a right. I look backwards. There are a couple of rooms with closed doors. A huge window at waist level is the only thing on that end of the hall. The midday sun emits its glorious bright rays inside in a worthless attempt to create warmth in a cold, sterile environment. I return my view to my front, Bennett is still at his mom's side and Brielle has my hand. The crazy pace from earlier has become much more nonchalant and comfortable for the kids I'm sure, their poor little legs. I picture them hurrying beside me earlier and giggle inside from the humor of it. Then it wasn't funny at all, but now it is a little. Brandon, knock it off. It's Sarah again. Sorry, sweetie I was wandering. I giggle again. Sometimes you need to find something to smile about in a serious situation. Today has been an emotional rollercoaster. We take a left at the nurses' station. Two female nurses "man the post". They are both wearing navy blue scrubs that look very comfortable and seem to be lost in piles of folders filled with paperwork. They don't acknowledge us as we pass. We continue down the way stopping at the third door on the left, room 313. The driver of my wife's wheelchair pushes the door open with one hand and proceeds inside, we are close behind.

We enter the room. The inside is much warmer than the drab halls. The walls are an olive green rather than the typical hospital white. I suppose the medical facility is trying to alleviate the painful sickness that a hospital stay often creates. They give the rooms a little touch of home feeling. The nurse helps Sarah into her bed as the twins assume a comfortable, shared position on the oversized green vinyl chair beside it. She settles on the bed on top of the covers.

"Mrs. Smith, as soon as you are able to, we need you to put on a hospital gown." Upon this announcement Sarah sends me an angry look. Oh my God, a frickin' gown too! You better still love me after this one. I snicker at the comment but keep it contained. I smile at her instead and her angry face turns to a grin as well. I blow her a kiss excluding the hand motion, my lips pucker to her and then I relax them. The male nurse leaves the room. We sit and talk for a few more minutes until Sarah feels strong enough to get out of the bed and change her clothes. Nurses continue to come in and out of the hospital room to check on the status of her wardrobe. I have to tell them that she'll be ready in a minute and that I will assist her in changing. The poor babies are both asleep on the chair. It's been a rough day so it's understandable. Brielle's head is resting on Ben's shoulder and his head is on top of hers. They are so cute. Sarah announces to me that she feels like she can handle switching her clothes now. I pick the green folded cloth of a gown up from the rolling tray. I use my other arm to help Sarah out of her bed and onto her feet. She is steadier now than she was with the man, I don't have to aid her very much. She gets to her feet and with one arm around her anyway, we venture to the in-room bath. I ensure that the front door is closed as we pass it by giving it a push with the robe ridden hand. The bathroom is located right next to the entrance door off to the right. We enter the bath. It's much drearier than the rest of the room. There is a white porcelain toilet, a torso-sized mirror over the small matching sink, and a square stall shower with an ivory curtain hanging from a metal square above. I close the door behind us. Sarah immediately turns and kisses me deeply. I am caught completely off guard by her actions but I welcome them none the less. I instantly become aroused by her throwing. I know what she's feeling right now and I feel the same way. It is strange how one can go from absolute shock, to fear, to comfort, and then to this. We quickly remove her clothing. I only drop my pants. We are anticipating the arrival of a nurse at any moment. That may have been an added arousal to the whole situation. We finish quickly just in case. It is a very hot session but we have been known to do these things in discretely public places before, it's exciting. I clean up and Sarah gets into the shower. I leave the room with the instruction to have her call me when she's finished. The twins are still in the same position. I turn down the blankets on her bed in preparation. I go over to the other bed and adjust that one, can you ever get a single room in a hospital or do you have to have a very contagious illness in order to get peace. I go to the chair and get Ben, I lay him in the extra bed first and then I gather Brie. They stir slightly and then settle. The side railings ensure security on the strange bed. Brandon. Sarah calls me to the bathroom with her mind. I respond and enter the bath. She's drying off. She's wet and beautiful. If we weren't in the hospital, showering with her would've been a must. I help Sarah put on her gown, at least it isn't one of those old school ones that ties in the back so everyone around can see your ass. I pick her discarded clothing up and fold the items neatly and place them in the tiny built-in wall closet. She goes to her bed and I help her as she covers up. A pleasantly plump nurse with light brown hair comes into the room. She doesn't even knock to announce her entry. She stops near the twins sleeping in the extra bed, puts her hands on her round hips, and scoffs at us. She looks over at us.

"They are adorable, but they can't sleep in that bed." She is a smug woman. I answer her before Sarah does because otherwise things will get out of control.

"Ma'am, I understand the fact that it could be used for another patient but my kids are going to use it and if you need to charge us for both beds then by all means do so." I don't give her the chance to argue with me. In the medical field most things are about cash anyway. As long as the hospital is getting the money, they have nothing to complain about. Her bitter stature erases as she approaches Sarah, she has a blue box with a cord coming from it in one hand.

"Mrs. Smith, I need to check your vitals now." She politely takes Sarah's arm and reaches for a little thing attached to a machine. It looks like a clamp of some sort but there is a bright red light coming from inside it. Her hand slides down Sarah's arm and stops at her pointer finger, she places the device on the tip. She then proceeds to tapping the buttons on the machine it's attached to. The screen lights up and the lines start to flow across the screen. "I need you to keep this on for me alright?" Sarah nods in acknowledgement. She's feeling awkward about this whole hospital situation. I understand her being ill at ease and don't blame her for it.

"Ma'am, could I get some aspirin or something please, my head is killing me?" This is the first time I've heard about this.

"I'll get you something, Mrs. Smith, be right back." She leaves us alone. I address her in a whisper.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain? We surely wouldn't have just had sex if I'd known that you were."

"Maybe that's why I didn't tell you, I wanted to and I know that you wouldn't have." She grins up at me from her bed. I stand above her beside the bed looking down upon her.

"Fair enough," I completely understand. Things lately have been a little hectic. With helping Ben, preparations for school, work, and now this, we've been busy. The nurse waddles in with a cup of water and a bottle of pills. She sets the cup on the over-bed-tray and wheels it in front of Sarah, across her lap. She opens the bottle of medication and drops two of them onto the table.

"Thank you," Sarah says.

"You're welcome. The doctor should be in to check on you in a few minutes. We've ordered the tests already so we should be able to get you in within a few hours." She turns and leaves the room. Sarah looks up at me. I think the twins have the right idea, Brandon I'm really tired. Through all of the events of the day, it's nearing nine o'clock in the evening now and we are all tired. There's been way too much excitement. Go to sleep then my dearest, I love you. I go over and kiss her on the forehead and back away to the chair. I sit down as Sarah closes her eyes. I slouch back and let my own eyes relax as well.

****

I am walking down the cobblestone river walk again. I can feel the breeze blowing through my hair, it blows warmer then I remember it being before. The water splashes against the cement embankment. The boat still floats nearby, its lights reflecting off the canal waters. I still don't understand the people. I ignore their shouts again, they are annoying me. I admire the lights in the skyline of the city. It truly is a beautiful metropolis. I know it's coming from behind me. Am I able to defend myself in my dreams? I hear the crunching of gravel. I stop and turn. It's there as always, waiting for me, nearing me. I begin the surge within. I feel a rush of coldness like an air conditioner on my skin. I cannot defend myself, my powers aren't working. Concentrate Brandon, I tell myself. The figure continues to the point that it always does. That pain hits me again.

"What do you want from me?" I yell through the anguish in my head. The infliction gains in intensity. My skull is going to explode.

"I'm warning you, Brandon." Its voice is creepy and deeply whispered like a hard gust of wind. The vibration radiates through me causing a deeper ailment. The sensation flows again.

I wake up in the hospital chair. I'd forgotten where I was for a moment. The burning in my forehead is subsiding but I still feel it's presence from the intensity of the vision. I point two of my fingers out and place them there, against my temple. I rub them in a circular motion massaging the spot as it leaves me. Sarah and the twins remain sleeping in their beds, the doctor hasn't come in yet and the sun has set. I rise from my seat. The vinyl makes a farting noise as I get up. I hate that. I tiptoe passed both beds and go to the front door. I open it as silently as I can and close it again behind me. I walk to the nurses' station where I only see the rather large one from earlier. She reminds me of a Pug. She has short hair, a Bull-doggish face, a chubby button nose, and rather large eyes.

"Excuse me, nurse."

"Yes, Mister Smith?" She is pleasant in her reply.

"I was wondering...you had said earlier that the doctor would be here shortly?" She is quick with her response.

"Mister Smith, the doctor did check your wife. Everyone was asleep so he decided to let her rest. I filled him in on her welfare and then I scheduled her for a CT scan in the morning. I hope that's okay?" She is honestly asking me the question. What if it weren't okay? Wouldn't it be a little too late to decide to cancel the test?

"Yes, ma'am that's more than okay. I'll just be happy to know what's wrong with her."

"Everything will be fine, Mister Smith. You should get some rest now." She's leaning upon a pile of paperwork, her arms fully extended, her hands planted firmly. She has work to do.

"Thank you, ma'am," she nods at me and I walk back to the room. I have to use the bathroom anyway. I reenter the hospital room as quietly as I had when I left and close the door again. I take the left into the restroom, close the door most of the way, and prep myself for urination. It begins to flow from me, a comfortable feeling of relief. Always be aware. That voice from the mall courses through my brain again. It isn't the same one from my nightmares. It doesn't sound threatening, it sounds like a calm and collected person who only wants to whisper sweet nothings into my ears. I hear it and then it's gone just as before. My urine flow stops. I put it away, zip up, flush the toilet, and leave the bathroom. I walk over to Sarah's bed and squeeze in beside her. I can't sleep in a chair all night. I cuddle her and fall back to sleep.

The bright morning sun shines into the room from outside, apparently we are located on the east side of the hospital. We are fortunate in being greeted by it the moment the bright orb begins its ascension into the sky, it radiates over the cities buildings. I rise first and go to the closet for Sarah's bag, her cell phone is in there and I need to call work again to tell them that I'm not going to make it. I talk to one of the ladies working in the office and she takes the note of my absence. I thank her and turn the phone off. I realize that I'd just broken one of the hospital rules regarding cell phone usage within it. Oops, my mistake. I place it back in Sarah's purse. I put the bag back in the closet. I walk over to the twins' bed, they begin to stir. I reach down with both hands and rock the children in order to wake them.

"Hey, kids, let's go downstairs and get some breakfast." Sarah starts to rouse behind me. 'Honey, we're going to go downstairs and grab something to eat, can I bring you anything? You're tests don't start for another couple of hours so there's time.'

"No, Brandon. I'm fine. They should be bringing in the delicious room service shortly anyway." It's Sarah's sarcasm. I walk over to her, kiss her forehead, and then sit down. The kids need time to wake before we go. Brie gets out of the bed first, goes over to Sarah and kisses her hand, and then she comes to me. She stands in front of me, her bed-head of hair is a little rough right now but she is still very cute. Her eyes are sleepy. She rubs the right one with a fist. I look back up at her poor hair and I let out a miniscule giggle. She stares into my eyes and gets a little awkwardness to her. Her hand goes to her hair, combing it down.

"Daddy, don't laugh at me." She says it with a tiny smirk on her face so I know that she isn't really mad about my snicker. I sit forward and reach for her. I pull her in close for a hug.

"Baby, I'm not laughing at you."

"Yes you were, Daddy. I heard you." I release my hold of her and look at her.

"Brielle, did you say that you heard me?" I'm caught off guard by it. Brie starting to develop her powers right now was the furthest thing from my mind at this point, with the goings on.

"Yeah, Dad, I heard what you said about my hair being a bed-head hair." It is now official, brown hair and brown eyes means nothing. The power doesn't choose it's possessor by looks as stated so many times by the Society. They are now formally wrong. It gives me great pleasure in knowing that they are. I am more than willing to take part in anything that defies any thought of study they have. It looks as though the mantra will be flooding my mind a heck of a lot more often than it was. Sarah is allowed in but there are things that Brielle can and will not know.

"You know that your mom, Ben, and I are the only ones permitted to be aware of your gift right, Brie?" I get serious for a moment so she can feel the seriousness of the secret.

"I know, Dad." I hug her again and let her in on one final thought. I love you my little angel. I feel the smile spread into her cheek against mine. I block my mind from any further invasion. Ben is getting out of the bed now. I look over at Sarah, she's awake and smiling. She's heard the whole conversation and looks very proud of her little girl. She moves her eyes from Brie to me. I smile at her and stand. I get the children ready to go downstairs as best I can, using a wet washcloth for the faces and a brush from Sarah's purse for the hair. We wave good-bye and leave the room. There's a woman in the hallway with a huge metal box on wheels. I watch her upon passing as she removes the trays of food from it gently. Sarah was right again as usual. We continue to the elevator, we'll probably take the stairs on the way back but the children just woke up and that right now would be a bit of an argument. We get in and go downstairs. We proceed to the in-hospital dining cafeteria. I grab trays for the children and then my own. We continue down the line, the kind old women stands behind the food line and smiles at us. She offers up the question of choice, mainly to the kids, she's staring at them and not making any eye contact with me. Brie gets the sausage and eggs. Ben opts for the bacon and eggs. I partake in a little of both, I'm starving. We go over to the cashier and pay. I'd never realized that eating in a hospital was so cheap. I venture over to a counter where there's an assortment of morning condiments and a toaster for bread with a conveyer belt to place the slices on for toasting. I toast a couple of pieces for the children and grab some individual butter packets. We proceed to our seats, I let Ben choose. Bennett sits on a seat separate from the booth but within the same seating collage. Brie and I sit opposite him. Both of them are sitting on their knees to compensate for the height difference. We begin to eat. Ben starts the conversation.

"Dad, is mom going to be okay?" He continues to eat as he blurts it out, a bit of scrabbled egg falls from his chatterbox to his plate.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll be fine. You guys don't need to worry about that okay?" My little ones don't have to worry about the loss of a mother at their age, I'm sure she'll be fine.

"Stop, Dad," Brielle interrupts my thoughts. Damn it, I haven't been using my mantra. I hadn't had to do it in over five years now and I'm just not used to having to block anyone out anymore. I was never really that good at it to begin with, not much practice.

"Sorry, Brie, I didn't mean to share. She'll be fine. I'm just as worried about her as you are." She continues to eat her sausage.

"I know, Daddy." I make the moonlight fill me. I have to remember to do it whenever I think anything I don't want her to hear from now on. The dining area is empty. We are its only patrons. I whisper to Brie, there's no time like the present.

"Sweetie, can you see what I'm thinking right now?" She stops eating and looks up at me puzzled.

"I see the pretty moon." She still looks mystified.

"That, Brie, is what we call a mantra. If you don't want anyone to know what you're thinking then you think of the most beautifully peaceful place that you can. Nobody can hear or see what you think that way." Now she understands what she sees in my head.

"You have to practice it a lot to be good at it, it's really hard to do. Just think of that special place and think about it, you can practice on your own for now. I can't see or hear your thoughts, so you'll have to test it out on your mom, not now though okay?" She nods her head in acknowledgement. She resumes eating and I glance over at Ben, eating like a starved boy. I realize that we hadn't even eaten dinner last night before they'd fallen asleep. It's no wonder he's so hungry.

"Are you guys going to want anything else or are you okay?" Ben stops and his eyes light up.

"Can we have one of those doughnuts?" He points behind himself as he spins sideways, fingering in the direction of a clear plastic flip-top case filled with pastries.

"Sure, buddy. Brie do you want one too?" She brightens as well and nods yes. I start reaching into my back pocket for my wallet, open it up, and pull out some small bills. I hand them both a dollar and then I give an extra one to Ben. "Get one for your mom too, make it a good one." I know how hospital food is rumored to be and I want my darling to be happy before she starts her tests.

"Okay, Dad." I stand out of the way so Brie can exit and they both jump from the benches and run to the display. He opens the case and does the proper thing grabbing a piece of wax paper from the dispenser. He picks it up with the tissue while holding it open for Brie as she does the same.

"Grab one of those bags and put the one for mom in it." Ben immediately does as Brie finishes the coordinating chore of one-handed snatching. He gets her a large chocolate filled one and looks over at me for approval. I give him an a-okay with my fingers and a wink. He smiles and places it into the sack. "Go see the nice lady at the cash register and pay her for them now." They go. The woman at the register sits on a stool with her legs crossed smiling at them in their efforts. She's polite and sweet to them as she takes the money from Brie first, hands her the change, and then Ben's turn. He steps up and hands her his two bills. She rings it up and smiles at him. He holds his hand out for the receiving. She sets it in his palm and he looks down at it. He looks angered by something now. I go quickly and catch part of what he's saying.

"...dollars, why don't I get any dollars back?" He sounds like a spoiled brat in a store throwing a fit.

"That's the right change, sweetie, see." She points to the LEDs on the register display swivel sticking out of the top of the cash register. I place my hands on Ben's shoulders in an attempt to calm him. His anger is flowing freely. He's near the breaking point.

"Ben, let me see your coins." He holds out his hand and I count it. "The nice lady is right, that's the correct change, thank you ma'am." I spin him around and lead him back to the booth. He's still flustered and mad. I can feel the ire inside. "Calm down, buddy." He doesn't answer me but keeps walking. I hear a sudden crash behind me. I take my hands from his shoulders and spin around. The cashier is sitting on the floor with a look of pain on her face. I run to her. She's looking up at me blushing as I reach for her hand in order to help her to her feet.

"It's okay, that's probably the fifth time this month that I've slipped off that thing." I pull her up. "Thanks." She brushes off the seat of her pants.

"You're welcome. Be careful okay? You could really hurt yourself one of these times." I feel like I'm scolding a child after I hear myself say it but it's too late now. She gives me the look of a toddler being disciplined in return. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that." She lets her face relax, I nod at her, and walk back to the twins who are sitting back in the booth. Brielle is sitting by Ben telling him something but I can't hear her. As I get closer, she continues eating her doughnut. I go to the opposite bench and slide in.

"Something I need to know?" Now I am disciplining a couple of toddlers. "Ben." He keeps stuffing his face with his dough. I look over to her. "Brie," She looks up at me with a small bite in her mouth.

"Ben thought it was funny that the lady fell and I just told him that it wasn't funny." She maintains eye contact with me. I shift mine to Ben.

"Bennett Hudson, it is never funny when someone hurts themselves." I picture the lady on the ground again and then I can't help but let one loose. I giggle. Ben giggles. Even though Brie is trying to keep the snicker in, still lets it free. We are dealing with the current situation the best we know how and laughter, I'm told, is always the best medicine. They finish and we return to Sarah.

When the children and I enter the room, the doc is in there speaking with Sarah. He's an older man with gray hair, wearing the white doctor coat with the stethoscope around his neck. He's shorter than me. I'd say around five feet ten inches. He's reviewing her chart, his bifocals balance on the tip of his white bulbous nose.

"Misses Smith, the nurses will be in to get you shortly." He passes us and nods his head at me, only glancing momentarily at the children. I approach Sarah.

"Did he tell you anything?" Doctors and medical facilities are a bit stressful. You don't really ever go to them or see one unless there's something wrong with you. The twins go to the chair and sit, Ben has the sack with the pastry. I don't think now is a good time to offer it.

"He pretty much told me what you heard, Bran, he wasn't in here but a couple of seconds before you guys came in." She sounds frustrated as well. The nurses come into the room to collect her. I walk over and kiss her lips for comfort, for me and for her. I love you my darling. She says to me silently. Things will be alright, beautiful, you'll see. I reassure her as best I can. One of the nurses kicks the locking mechanism on the wheels with her foot freeing them. The side rails go up and she clicks them into their place. They turn the bed and work it out of the room, the twins watch as their mother is taken away.

"Let's go to the family waiting room, I'll bet they have toys and books in there." I say it with as much upbeat excitement as I can to show them that I'm not worried. We leave the room and go to the family room down the hall furthest from the nurses' station. I open the door and see that there's nobody else inside. The twins come in with me. There is a bookshelf full of books and a basket of toys. They push passed me and go immediately to both, Brie the books, Ben the toys. It's a cozy room, a bluish green medium thick carpet. The wallpaper is designed accordingly, a little tan color with vertical stripes matching the rug. There are two very comfy looking chairs that also match the rest of the room. I go to the closest one and sit down to relax and watch our babies. Sarah's current position is eating away at my mind. The relief in knowing will be comforting but being aware of her condition, that may not be.

****

The orderlies or nurses, whatever, are wheeling me down the hallway on this damn hospital car on wheels of a bed. I'm so nervous right now that I'm going crazy. They continue down the hallway to some sort of service elevator big enough to accommodate my entire bed. I pull the blankets over my breasts to make sure there are no shows given in this stupid hospital gown. God I feel dumb right now. The doors close. Damn she's hot. The one to the right of me is thinking. Thanks asshole, I appreciate that. I love the attention but right now I'm not in the mood. Let's just get there and get this over with. The elevator stops on the, I look at the lit buttons above the door, second floor. The doors open and we're off again. I wish I could just walk to wherever it is we're going. I feel like such an incompetent person right now, like a baby in a car seat, unable to do anything for myself. We pass numerous doors to the left and to the right. Each of the lights above flashes me in the eyes as I roll under them. They blind me with each passing. I turn my head and direct my view to the doors. I want to cry right now, I'm so upset. There has to be something wrong with me, nobody just passes out for no reason. What if I'm going to die? What if I have brain cancer or something like that? What will Bran do without me? What about the twins? To live life without a mother, I can't bear to think about that. They deserve so much more than that. I love them with all of my heart and Brandon. I have to maintain my optimism. Nothing is truly wrong with me. Maybe it's just a low iron level. Wouldn't they have found that out from the blood that they'd taken for testing earlier? Stop it Sarah. Stay positive. The men stop the bed and take a left into two huge double doors swing inward as we enter. A female technician stands in the room waiting for me. She's got light features, fairly pretty, and one of those long white laboratory coats. She looks at me pleasantly, her hands interlocked in front of her. The gurney bearers leave the room. She drops the side railing and asks me if I'm alright to get out of the bed with her help. I tell her I'm totally capable of getting out of the bed by myself. I show her as she steps away from me, not too much though, she can still reach me quickly if it's needed. I drop my feet to the floor, it's freezing against my soles, and stand up in my ugly robe. She motions me over to a giant white machine, the scanner. I lie down on it as instructed. I try to relax, I close my eyes. I don't want to do this, my heart is racing. The lights pop on inside the tube. The popping made me jump a little, as if I'm not already freaked out enough. I try to calm down again, my rate slows down. I am comfortable, well as much as possible on a decent into a tube of lights. The vinyl matting under my back is warming making me sweat a little. The lights are so bright on my eyes that rushing sounds flows into my head with the severity. I close them tightly as the scanner does its thing. Just when I think I cannot take anymore, when I get to the point that I want to smash myself free and run away, the lights go off. There's that popping again. They fade away slowly. The brightness of it still has me seeing stars, my vision left blurry. The slide that I'm on begins to move out of the piece of equipment. I blink crazily in order to alleviate the haze of my vision, clearing it up quickly. I reach the limits of the slide. The tech is waiting for me in the spot she stood before I went into the hole. She tells me that the doctor will review my x-rays and be with me in my room in a little while to tell me the results. I get back into the hospital bed and cover myself up again. She grabs the bed by one of the rails and pushes it back into the hallway. The two men are waiting there for me. They resume their original positions on either side of me and we go back to the room. I'm so tired with worry. My eyes stay closed the entire way. As soon as we arrive in the room, I go to sleep. I don't want to think about it anymore. I will know what's going on when the doctor shows up, for now I will rest and not think.

****

I am reading Green Eggs and Ham with Brielle sitting in my lap on the comfy chair. It's the fourth Dr. Seuss book that we've read together while we've waited. I read some and stop to ask her what a word is. I do this for both of them most of the time in an effort to educate them. Ben is sitting on the floor playing with one of those plastic multi-colored ball sliding things you see in every place where children are accepted. I watch him for a moment as he messes with the toy. Some of the balls he's moving with his fingers, some on the other side are returning to him on their own, although it's not of its own doing, he has a little something to do with it. Damn he's good. As Brie continues to sound out the word 'train', I watch him. His index finger passes the plastic balls along the thin wire strip, they fall to the other side with a hollow clinking, and then he brings them back to himself without a touch. I could never have done that with such precision at the age of five. Hell, by the age of twenty eight I probably would've blown that thing apart on accident. I admire him for a second or two more, Brie's gotten the word now.

"Good job, sweetie." I'm so proud of both of them.

"Thanks, Dad." She's proud of herself as well. The door to the family room opens, the sudden clink of the balls occurs immediately. Good boy. The pudgy nurse is back and has an announcement to make. Brie slides from my lap as I lower her down and stand myself.

"Mister Smith, your wife is in her room and the doctor is ready to talk to her now. She told me that she'd like to have you and the children in with her." I thank her and she leaves. I instruct the kids to pick up the little mess that we've made. I place the books that we've read back on the shelf among the others. Brielle returns hers as well. Ben places the couple of cars back into the basket, we're ready. I go over to the door, grab the handle, open it, I hold it with my foot, and the children take my hands. We leave the room and take a left back toward Sarah's current living quarters.

The door is open awaiting us. As we go in I observe the doctor standing beside her. I release the twins. They go to her for a quick peck and then back away to sit on the extra bed quietly. I go to her, kiss her forehead, take her hand, and stand next to the bed. It's time for the news. He clears his throat before speaking, the phlegm breaks free, swallows it, and he begins.

"Misses Smith, the test results show that you are possibly suffering from Pelizaeus-Merzbacher Disease also referred to as PMD." We both look at him silently. He understands that we have no idea. "It's a form of brain sclerosis. It's a rare inherited disease which affects the central nervous system due to an abnormality of the white matter of the brain. We'd like to run another series of tests to be sure that is what's wrong." He surely doesn't beat around the bush at all. We are both in a state of shock. I ask the question.

"What does that mean, doctor?" I'm not an idiot but my mind is totally boggled right now. How could this be happening? Everything was going so well and now this. Sarah squeezes my hand tightly and then lessens her grip. Sorry.

"Mister Smith, that means that I can't honestly tell you how long your wife has, the disease is progressively slow and there shouldn't be any effects from it for quite some time yet. The oddest part is that I've never heard of a case in someone so young. The symptoms eventually include ataxia and spasticity of the muscles and in the latest stages there will be a loss of motor skills. There are the black outs that you've been having but the other symptoms come much later on. I'm very sorry." He sounds like he's reading it out of a script book. Apparently he's done this delivery before on several occasions. His dryness and seeming lack of compassion for my wife pisses me off.

"Sorry, you're sorry, that's all you have to say!" My emotions are beginning to take me.

"I know that it's not very reassuring, but we can't do anything further for you, Misses Smith. We'll run a few more tests just to be sure, but I'm fairly certain. With the advancement in medical technology every day, there is a possibility that you could be cured in the near future. As previously stated, this is a rare condition. I've been in the medical profession for many years and this is the first time that I've seen anything like this in a person as young." His lack of expression seems to make me feel worse.

"You're right, doc, that's not reassuring! There has to be something that can be done!" I'm so angry and worried that I can't contain myself. The twins are motionless on the bed, just staring at me as I yell at the doctor. It's not his fault but how could he not know what to do? "Go back to your computer or books or whatever the hell it is that you do to figure it out! I want some damn answers!" I can't control myself any longer. I haven't been this enraged in years. The doctor is still, his eyes are wide. A lonely bead of sweat comes from the top of his grey balding head. It gently rolls down to his forehead and then gets lost in a bushy old eyebrow. His body begins to shake as if he'd just experienced a cold chill on a hot summer day. The shaking is increasing. I feel a hard stab of knife shaped fingertips in my side. I come back to the reality of the moment. The quivering stops. He brings the back of his hand to his forehead and wipes it. The paw flips position and pinches the top of the bridge of his nose like he's suffering from a sinus pressure headache. I glance down at my poor Sarah. She is looking at me in anger, knowing what I'd just done. I didn't mean to, Sarah. I just got too angry, I'm sorry. I pass my explanation to her. Her hand rejoins mine. The doctor drops his hand again and wobbles his head violently back and forth as though he's disbursing the pain that once was there. After a short period of reflection and gathering, he begins to speak again.

"I understand your frustration and anger. Believe me. The most I can do for you, Mrs. Smith is give you pain medication when and if that does occur. I am going to recommend that you be discharged because there is nothing further we can do for you here. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, there is a lot of time left so, don't worry about it now. Be happy and live your life as normal. If I need you to come in for any further tests I will let you know alright?" His eyes are still a bit fluttery. He looks at the lighting above as he speaks to us. He begins to turn and exit the room, he stops.

"If you experience the dizzy spells sit down immediately as to not hurt yourself. I am also advising you not to drive a motor vehicle of any kind due to the unpredictability of your condition. It's too dangerous." He leaves us, closing the door upon exit. Sarah doesn't seem too effected by the situation.

"I don't need to be, Brandon." Sarah is reading my thoughts again. "I'm going to keep on living my life just as I always have with my beautiful family. I'll be fine." I throw myself on top of her and hug her with my whole body. Now we know and we will just have to deal with it when that time comes. I am here for her no matter what happens because I love her and it's what I've vowed to do.

"I know that you will, Bran. Let's go home." Sarah gets out of the bed, grabs her clothing from the closet, and goes into the bathroom to get dressed.

"What about the other tests, Sarah? Don't you think you should go through in order to be sure?" I ask her, knowing her mind is made up. I go to the children and hug them. Brielle's eyes are filled with tears, there are a couple droplets dangling from her jaw line.

"I don't think I need any more affirmation, Brandon. I think it's time to go home," she closes the bathroom door.

"Baby, what's the matter?" I already know the answer. A sniffle escapes her.

"Daddy, mommy's not going to be okay." I let them go and shift my efforts on her alone. My hands placed on her upper arms.

"Brie, your mom is going to be just fine." They shouldn't have been in here for the delivery of the doctor's diagnosis. Her tears flow again, running down her face.

"She's not, Daddy. Mommy's not going to be okay." Her lip quivers with sadness as the drops continue to come. I grab her wholly in my arms. I whisper to her in reassurance.

"Sweetie, everything is going to be okay. We have to be strong for mommy alright? No more bad thoughts."

"Alright, Daddy, I'll be happy."

"Brie, even if something bad is going to happen to Mommy, she's okay now. Remember that." I want to maintain positive thoughts and emotions. Children shouldn't have to deal with things like death. We will continue to live life like normal and ignore Sarah's sickness until it gets to the point where we can't anymore. I let Brielle go and look into her eyes.

"Mommy is going to be fine for now." I look back and forth at each of them. "The doctor said that it's going to be a long time before she gets sick. We just need to be happy and forget about it okay?" It's the best that I can do to protect them from the pains of the future by denial and dismissal. It's a defense mechanism that will have to do for now. I wipe Brie's tears from her face and stand. I go out to speak with the doctor, telling him that Sarah doesn't want and is refusing any more tests. He agrees to let her go, knowing that it's ultimately her choice. I go back into the room. The door to the bathroom opens. Sarah emerges, dressed and made-up.

"I'm ready, let's get out of here." She seems chipper, oh thank God for the avoidance of the reality of things. The kids leap from the bed as children often do, carefree. I feel the emotional status rise in both of them when they see their mother standing before them as she always has. She's quickly made herself up with a light application, the bare essentials contained within her purse for emergency touch-ups. The kids jaunt over to her and grab her hands.

"Let's go home, my babies." We stop at the nurses' post to fill out the remainder of the discharge paperwork and we go, just a stepping stone to leap in the game of life.

The remaining couple of weeks before school starts are rather uneventful. Between the two of us, the twins are being prepped in their powers and a little basic educational brushing up is conducted. Brielle works with Sarah daily in her ability to read thoughts. I stand in as a guinea pig on several of the sessions. One thing that we have discovered, she has the power to break into the mantra and hear beyond it which is amazing. Either I'm not very practiced, although I could keep Daniel and my Gramms out, or she's extremely gifted. Sarah teaches her how protect herself with an image of her own. The key to blocking someone mentally is that the individual has to be completely immersed in the scene in their mind. A five year old little girl has a wonderful imagination making her ability to envision something strong easier. The picture must be your own and it must consume you, concentration is paramount. Ben is also beyond talented in my eyes. His control is fathoms beyond what mine was at twenty years of age. He isn't able to lift things that have much mass to them yet, he still doesn't show any sort of exhaustion when he does his thing. I'm not pushing him in the way that I was forced as a child to display my use of it. I don't want the same for him as I had. I thought I was insane at one point in my life. Why would I want that for my own son? We've tried heavier things in experimentation but he's been unsuccessful so far, it may be better that way in order to keep little "Lord Mischievous" out of trouble. We are still having our moments, we just clash sometimes. Don't take this the wrong way. I am not by any means comparing my children. I love them both unconditionally and equally. Bennett and I just have issues. Our father-son relationship is a work in progress. He does things that he shouldn't and I tell him when he's wrong, he doesn't like it. I refuse to give up my morals and responsibilities as a father, that's the problem and I understand where he's coming from. My father was the same way. Sure, we'd go fishing and play, things like that, but our father-son wasn't the best either. I guess it's a family cycle that I need to break and I've made a vow to myself to try. The training and learning continues. The first day of school for the twins is finally here.

****

I've been up since Brandon left for work which is nothing like me. Not working now is making me stir crazy. I clean and clean until there's nothing left. I've had my first cup of coffee with Bran and his morning bagel. I'll never understand how he can only have that for breakfast and then a tiny lunch when he works as hard as he does. I've volunteered to wake up with him and make something but he always says no and that's that. I go to the bathroom and jump in the shower. I need to wake my babies in about a half an hour so we can get all beautiful and ready. I'm excited to see them in their new school clothes. We've had them washed and hanging in the closet for a couple of weeks now and I'm getting tired of seeing the new clothing on the hangers while I'm putting the freshly washed ones away. I laid out their outfits last night in preparation for this morning. I need some time to get ready myself too, the more time the better. The shower is a wonderful wake up tool for me, next to the coffee it's the best way. I take a little extra time to enjoy it. I've taken the time into account. I turn the water off and reach for the towel to dry myself stepping out onto the bathmat in the process. Once the task is complete, I wrap it around me and grab an extra one for my hair. I check myself in the mirror. I don't look diseased. Motherhood is starting to reflect a little around my eyes but not enough that a little foundation can't cover. I begin the beautification process. My application is minimal, I don't have flawless skin by any means but I don't require much. I start to think about my babies and their first day of school as I apply. Both of them in school, what will I do? I already clean my ass off and now everyone will be gone during the day. There will be no messes made for me to follow behind and correct. This is going to be the most immaculate house in the country. We bought a pick-up truck for Brandon to drive to work so I have the car to get the kids to and from school. I know the doctor had his advice about me not driving but there is no way in hell I will not drive, I love it way too much. Besides, I haven't had an episode since I'd been in the hospital anyway so I think we're safe. He said progressively slow right? I don't take to authority and orders well anyway. I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I can still function. My problem right now is loneliness. I know that once I drop them off, I'm going to go stir crazy. My poor babies all alone in different classrooms with all those strange kids, that's another worry that I have. Are they going to be able to handle it? I'm sure they will be able to adapt, they're smart; so many other children have to do this. I vaguely remember my first day of school. I went to private school but it was the same none the less. All that I can hope for is popularity and many new friends. Kindergarteners are so innocent. Fresh pals are what they are looking for. I need to stop worrying. I finish my make up, get dressed, and do my hair. Now it's time for my babies to get up. I go to my baby girl's room first. I sit on the edge of her bed. Just sitting and staring at her for a moment. She's lying on her side with her back turned to me. Her pretty blonde hair partially fanned and a little ratted. I place a hand on her shoulder.

"Brielle, sweetie, wake up, it's time to get ready for school." She lets out a tiny gruffness and then her eyes fly open. She sits up.

"It's time, Mommy?" She's excited about the ordeal. Her baby blues are wide with anticipation. I kiss her cheek. I'm a little sad but have to keep the excitement level up for her.

"Well then, let's get going, lots to do to get ready to go." I stand and she jumps from her bed. Then she skips passed me, down the hall, through the living room, and into the dining room to wait for her breakfast. It's amazing how children are so innocent and flexible in life. As adults, the stresses of life turn us into worrying robots. That thought in its self is depressing. I continue into Bennett's room, he's a back sleeper. His eyes are open already and he's staring at the ceiling. I sit beside him, rather than conducting a mental invasion, I ask him.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Mommy, I don't want to go to school." He's flat in his tone, poor little man.

"Ben, school will be fine, you'll see. We've discussed this before. You'll get to make new friends and learn new things. School can be fun if you let it be, promise."

"But, what if the other kids don't like me?"

"Ben, all you have to do is be nice to them and you shouldn't have any problems. It really is that easy." I'm not lying, at his age all the others need is a nice person to play and share with. It's a guaranteed go from there. He begins to get out of his bed.

"Okay, Mommy I'll be nice and make it fun." He's sitting beside me on his bed, his feet dangling.

"That's all you need to do, buddy, and you'll be alright. Are you ready for some breakfast?" He drops the remaining inches to the carpet and nods his head. I stand up and rub his hair, a cheeky kiss and a smile in return. We go to the dining room and I get them some cereal. The only thing they ever ask for is cereal and it is balanced enough to sustain them for the day. The orange juice on the side should help as well. After the bowls are empty, the mood has lightened into a minimal uproar of excitement. It's them; I'm still a little depressed about it all, we finish getting ready. The teeth are brushed, the beautiful new clothing applied, and the hair is perfected, I stop to gaze at my little creations. Brielle is wearing the dress that I'd intended for the first day. I keep events in mind when choosing clothing not dwelling so much on the practicality of the outfit. She looks gorgeous. The sky blue of the sundress brings out the pale blue of her eyes and the light gold of her hair. She is topped with a Barbie doll backpack. Ben is standing next to her fidgeting as usual. His curly dark locks and chocolate brown eyes make it possible for him to pull off the outfit he's wearing. For today it is khaki pants, a short sleeved deep brown striped crème shirt, with a plain white t-shirt beneath. His pack is as he chose it to be, solid deep red with black around the zippered pockets. It's time to go, we load up into the family car and we're off.

We pull into the traffic circle for drop offs in front of the school. I notice several 'No Parking' signs lining the curbside. We're just going to have to find a spot in the lot then because my little ones are not going to go in there alone on their opening day. Not to mention the fact that I want to hold onto them for as long as I possibly can before having to leave them to their new life's beginning. School is the first milestone to a long crazy living of rush and insanity. I find a spot, one of very few, in the parking lot and pull in. I turn the car off and we get out. We meet at the rear of the car as we usually do when it's just the children and me. We take each other's hands and walk to the building. It's in a squared off U shape, the main entrance and the two separate wings on either side. The whole exterior is covered with windows, a bright environment for gathering knowledge or, in some cases, the perfect view for an escape into a daydream. Either way it is ideal. We cross the entirety of the lot and as we approach the curb leading to the sidewalk, they both leap it as though it's the tallest curbstone on the planet. Children can be so overdramatic, it's adorable just how much so. We continue along the walk, it lines the edge of the traffic drop off circle. Cars continue to stop and drop, miniature adults running inside without so much as a good bye. Some nearly forget and turn to wave. Others just jump out of the vehicles discarding their parents like an old worn out sock tossed into the trash can. We take a left and enter the doors. Due to the fact that I was in the hospital on the day of the kindergarten round-up, the orientation and meet the teacher night, we missed it. I know the names of their teachers. Brie's is Mrs. Johnston and Ben's is Mrs. Davies. The secretary's station directly located in front of the entrance is bustling with the chaos of the last minute I forgot to do's. Two toss paperwork back and forth onto desks and into the slotted wooden mailboxes while one sits calmly answering the phone. She's currently employed in phone conversation. We wait patiently by as she finishes and hangs up.

"How may I help you ma'am?" I despise the word ma'am but ignore it. I am a young lady if you must call me anything but Sarah. I let it go as always.

"Yes, ma'am I need to find Mrs. Johnston and Mrs. Davies classrooms please." I use the ma'am in rebuttal, I hadn't really ignored it. She stands and stretches her body over the counter. She points me in the direction to the left corridor.

"Mrs. Johnston's is the last door on the left and Mrs. Davies' is the last on the right. We like to keep our kindergarteners tucked away in the corner." She smiles at me and the children. As I turn I thank her and she your welcomes me. We walk down the hall toward the classrooms. I drop Ben off first bringing him and Brielle into his class. The children are quiet, most of them being directed by Mrs. Davies' teacher-aide, probably a volunteer or minimal wages involved. She's a rather homely woman with drab clothing. She looks like the stereotypical librarian rather than a teacher's helper. Her glasses are pushed up further onto her nose repeatedly. She looks anorexic almost and her tight clothing doesn't help cover the scrawniness. Her dirty blonde shoulder length hair falls just above her clavicles as they protrude out beyond her flesh. She is showing the pupils where their names are above the cubby and wall hook combo. They hang their backpacks up on the small hooks and then wait for further guidance. She has her hands full. So many parents hadn't bothered to accompany their child into the classroom. The aid stops with each newly arrived student. She stoops down to their level and asks them their name. It's a good thing for her that the names are alphabetized, probably her own doing. She's a smart woman. I meet Bennett at face level.

"Alright, Ben, are you ready? Remember what I told you and be good okay?" He nods at me with little puppy dog eyes, poor little guy.

"You'll be fine, honey, you'll see. I'll be here before you're done to pick you up and take you home okay?" I kiss his sweet forehead. "Now, go find your cubby and do the same thing the other kids are doing. I'll see you in a few hours." He nods again, the sad eyes diminish, and he walks nonchalantly over to his name placed overtop his cubby. Brandon and I weren't being stupid in giving our children some education prior to this day and it now benefits them. I stand and glance over to see Mrs. Davies sitting at her desk writing on something. She's busy and isn't paying attention. My first impression, she's lost touch with the reason for becoming a teacher in the first place. She's a heavy set woman with a curly mop of puffy brown hair. Her fingers look like sausages wrapped around the pen she's using. I'll talk to her later. I need to get Brie over to Mrs. Johnston's classroom. We both wave at Bennett and give him smiles. He is following the lead of the other children and stands there waiting for further instructions. He grins back nervously and, with his arm down at his side, only his wrist cocks up and his hand waves. We drop our goodbyes and we leave him to start his day. We wander across the hall which is still bustling with several children and a couple of parents. We go into Mrs. Johnston's room. The same activity is taking place, the placing of backpacks on hooks and waiting. This room has the same basic arrangement of furniture as Mrs. Davies. The cubbies and hooks are located off to the far right on the back wall of the room. The center of its floor is covered with a basic primary colored rug in the center. A chair is placed off near the middle outside edge for the kiddy powwows and story time. Mrs. Davies and the aid are directing the children. She greets each of them personally with a smile. Her kind face and demeanor is welcoming even to me and I'm kind of a difficult person when it comes to new people, especially when it comes to a situation like this. I am giving her temporary guardianship of my baby and that is very hard for me. My throat gets tight. I can feel the sadness coming, I push it away. It's not an event to be sad or upset about, it's the beginning. I lower myself to her. Mrs. Johnston is coming toward us. This conversation is private, a mother and a daughter. Brie, my baby...have a good day today. I love you and will miss you. She responds mentally. I love you too, Mommy and I will, promise. I hug her tightly for a moment and then release her. Now go, sweetie. She smiles and skips over to her slotted spot on the wall.

"The first day is always the hardest." It's a female voice. I look up. I hadn't notice that she was right next to me so quickly. She startled me a little bit. I regain a standing position. She holds out her hand in offering. "I'm Debra Johnston." I take her offering in acceptance and we shake.

"It's very nice to meet you. I'm Sarah Smith, Brielle's mother." Throwing my alias out there in introduction has become second nature to me. We drop our hands. Her average sized hands go into a folding in front of her seemingly in shape body. She hasn't overdone it in dressing. A button down sky blue shirt and blue jeans cover her body. Comfortable tennis shoes protect her constantly used feet. The only jewelry she has on is a thin sterling silver chain around her neck stopping just above the collar bones. It highlights the blue as it high polish shimmers in the overhead florescence.

"Don't worry about Brielle, Misses Smith. I'll take good care of her. This is obviously your first time letting her go?" She asked the question but already knew the answer. I heard her answer before I could.

"Yes. Her twin brother, Bennett, is in Mrs. Davies class." Her eyes light up.

"Twins, I love twins. The whole idea of having two cuties at one time makes me giddy. I've only got one child myself, he's in junior high. Thomas and I can't have any more so he's our only blessing." She tells it as though she's told this story on numerous occasions.

"I'm sorry to hear that." I am apologetic, I don't know her pain. I understand it but I don't personally know it.

"It's okay. God gives us what we are intended to receive and he is our lone gift accepted with pleasure." She seems at ease with the inability to have more children. Nothing negative is running through her thoughts.

"Okay, it was nice to meet you. I don't want to prolong the good bye any longer than I already have." I extend my arm for another shake, it is greeted and released. I turn in Brie's direction. I love you, Brie. Bye. She waves at me with a grin. She makes me smile with her excitement and ease of the moment. I wave back, tell Mrs. Johnston good bye, and leave the room. The weight of the moment is extreme. I feel like I'm leaving my world behind. I hurriedly leave the elementary school and go to the car. I cry for a few moments.

****

It's been a few months and our lives have been going rather well. Sarah hasn't had any reoccurring episodes since the hospital visit and diagnosis. I have faith and high hopes that it doesn't happen any time soon. Okay, sorry, I don't want to think about the right now. It depresses me so I push it to the back burner. Our two B's are doing exceptionally well in school, Brie and Ben. I know you understood that, but just in case. The year is nearly over now. Brielle has made a few friends who she never stops talking about. School and the social aspect of it all have really brought her out of her shell. She used to be so quiet and now...I don't know if it's her age, but I think it's school. Bennett has been having a harder time. He has a couple of little buddies that he talks about, but there are others that he has expressed ire about. We've had to talk to him so many times about liking and disliking people and how what they have to say to you doesn't matter. Sarah tells me that she's had to go in to speak to Mrs. Davies a couple of times in regards to Ben's behavior. I'd rather believe, through my few encounters with the woman, that she's just a bitchy person with too many problems of her own. The only time she even talks to either one of us is when there's an issue. Still no response when Sarah drops him off, not so much as a glance from her. We do our job and make sure that Ben understands what's expected of him. I expect her to do her job and help mold young people into quality adults for society. The most confusing thing, it's been addressed on several occasions, on the point grading system of one through five, five being the highest, Bennett's report cards are all fives. Oh, the only exception is in the working well with others portion, that's a two. We've never received a satisfactory explanation for his marks. He'll just have to make it through the remaining time and move on to a hopefully better teacher in the upcoming year.

My dream is still ongoing. If I told you about it every time then these pages would be plastered with the annoyance of my nightmare. I still can't see the face of my pursuer and it still makes no sense to me. I recognize the city but...another mystery in life, as though I need one of those. I've had about enough surprises and unexpected events occur in the last six years. I've lost count on how many exactly. All I want is for my family to be okay...that is all I think about. They are my world and mean everything.

****

The warming spring air looms over the atmosphere of the playground. Children run freely and happily without care. The ground is moist and spongy from the freshly fallen spring showers. It makes a squishy sound underfoot in some of the still soaked sod. As they run and frolic random water sprays, the dirty mud sprinkles their pant legs. A parent dreads a sloppy spring day. The coming home from school delivery of mud peppered jeans. Many of them splash and mess intentionally while others don't. Two little boys tell secrets and giggle to each other at the base of an old oak. The muddy hand wiping has both of their jeans covered in mess. The moisture is already leaving and the crust over is starting to harden. They are a couple of the taller boys in their second grade class. The red haired one cups his hand and passes some inaudible words to the lightly brown haired one. As he whispers, his eyes focus in the direction of Bennett who's sitting on one of the swings. He's lost in thought. He dangles his legs and stares at the blades of grass just in front of the worn wet dirt beneath his feet. The earth coats the soles of his tennis shoes, one of the laces dangles. He doesn't swing, he just sits. A small pebble in front of him frees itself from the mud cake and begins to roll into the grass. It then returns slowly falling back into the empty pothole from wince it came. The blades of grass move gently like a scythe is trying to cut through them, but only making them bow to it. He maintains his focus. They abandoned the tree and are nearing him sneakily from behind. Their hands concealed at the back of their waists. They continue the tip-toe approach. Ben feels them coming, he senses them within himself. He wants them to follow through with their plan. He's been waiting for them to, needing them to. They stop just behind his position. The red headed boy speaks.

"Hey, weirdo, wanna have some fun?" It's a mocking sarcastic tone. Bennett ignores them. He uses it to taunt them. He knows that it will work. It does. There's a cold splatter against the back of his shirt. It is followed immediately after another, their timing was off. The shiver from the coolness of the mud pours through his body. The cold is replaced quickly. Actions in revenge heat him within. The blades of lush green stop waving. His lip curls upward at the corner. His teeth show through beneath, perfect pearly whites. His eyes become blackened and glazed over. His body floats gently to the ground as it dismounts the rubber of the swing. The swing pops back and sways loosely in the air. Bennett takes one step forward and pivots to face his bullies. They laugh and point at him as though their doing was the funniest thing they've ever seen in their short lives. They taunt the inevitable from within. Bennett's soul is ablaze with anger. The other children still frolic freely about the playground. The monitors within the masses of tots in a world of chaos contained. The fire surges from his head. The blast flows outward to the red headed boy. It brushes the chain of the swing as it passes causing a rattling and further sway. It hits the boy in the left shoulder hard. His upper torso is forced backward. His legs fly out and up as he hits the ground, back first. The loud wind gush forces a grunt to escape him. The wind is knocked out of him. The other boy doesn't get response time. Bennett directs another blast to him. It hits his chest and throws him against the brick wall behind. His air leaves him as well. His head thumps against the wall upon impact. He crumples to the ground moaning. The red head is taking quick short inhales in attempt to regain full use. It's a slow but sure effort. Bennett's eyes clear to the normal chocolate with the borders of white. He smiles a little and walks away. Another kindergartener catches his eye, Brielle is watching him. A tear rolls from her duct. His smile leaves him and is replaced with a look of remorse. He knows that she can tell what he feels and hear what he's thinking. Please, don't tell mom and dad, Brie. He pleads with her. I won't, Ben, don't worry. He nods at her and walks over to a bench to sit and continue with his thoughts and mental toying. The boys are recovering by the swings having no idea of what had just occurred. Who could they tell anyway? Who would believe them? They know what they had done to provoke him, that weird boy. The man parked in his car beside the school's playground goes unnoticed as he pulls from the curbside and drives away.

****

With the twins nearly done with school, only a week to go, my stir crazy cabin fever is going to be over soon and I'm so thankful for it. I've given up on the constant cleaning. The house is immaculate by anyone's standards. Shopping is my forte now. The mall seems to be the place where I spend most of my time waiting to go pick up my babies. I frequent the same mall we had our school shopping, it's the one with the most clothing stores and it's close to home. Getting to the school from here isn't much of a jaunt either. When I don't feel like purchasing anything, I like to sit by the fountain and think. The chiming of the merry-go-round's music is soothing in my thoughts. My PMD hasn't affected anything about me yet. The doctor was correct when he told us that it was a slowly progressing disease and I thank God for that. I don't want to be alone right now. For the first time in my life, I'm scared. I am such a strong woman, sassy is another word I've heard others use to describe me as well. This fear thing that I'm going through is unwelcome, but I can't help it. I can't leave my babies. Brandon will be fine I have no doubt about that. I know that he loves me with all his heart as do I him. My poor babies though, it pains me. I can't sit here anymore, I have to go and drown my sorrows in frivolous buys. I get up from the bench and stroll down the corridor to my favorite, most expensive store in this place. I think today a dress is in order. I walk past the racks. It's so handy that the women's department is always right next to the entrance. It is a very strategic move on someone's part anyway. I think a sundress would be nice. I pass the tops and venture into the racks of dresses. There are so many to choose from, but my color choice today will be one of deep but bright red. I want to stand out and look hot for my man. I begin by reaching in by the first one remotely close to my needed match. Not that one. I slide others out of the way. The scrape of the metal shrieks as it skids. Something catches my eye, up on the wall, that's the one I want. I drop my hand from the shuffle of material I'm currently handling. I close my mouth, it was open, how lady like. I approach the wall hung article of clothing. It is gorgeous. The dress has a satiny sheen to it. The plainness of it makes it so beautiful. I pinch the material between my fingertips and let it slide between them. It is smooth and lovely against my flesh.

"May I help you, ma'am?" She startles me. My hand goes to my heart as the other drops the sliding cloth. I turn to her as I gather my breath.

"Yes, I'd like to try this dress on please."

"Alright, I'll be right back ma'am." She turns and walks away from me only to return moments later with a wooden broom handle length bar, a metal T at the tip. I back away to get out of her way, her tiny pink top rises exposing her stomach as she reaches with the tool. There's nothing like a skinny customer service person to make you feel worse about yourself. She drops the rod down closely enough to take the hanger in her other hand. She neatly drapes the dress over her bent forearm and leans the stick against the wall. She walks past me, an implied follow request. The dressing rooms are located a little further in the corner. We arrive at one of the doors. She reaches for the key attached to her wrist on a springy plastic coil. She takes it off, places the key in the lock, turns it, and opens the door. She goes inside, I watch as she hangs the dresses' hanger on the hook within. The material flows like a gentle waterfall as gravity takes it toward the floor. She comes out.

"There you are ma'am. Just let me know when you're finished." She nods and I go inside, closing the door with a click. I stand for a moment staring at it, admiring it as it hangs against the clean white wall. I hope that it fits well. I remove my shirt and my jeans, remove the thin straps from the hanger, and slide it over my head. The material is refreshing to my skin as it falls into position. I make the minor adjustments to make sure that it is right before checking in the mirror. I'm satisfied. I turn to check my reflection. It's perfect. I check my bosom, my butt, and my legs. It is a perfect dress to make me feel better. I am a firm believer in the fact of shopping as being the best medicine to make a girl feel wonderful, especially when I find something as gorgeous as this. I am now in love with another article of clothing.

Sarah. It's that whisper in my head again. What do you want from me? I send my own message. You need help, Sarah. The doctors are wrong. I nearly fall to ground. A flash of tingling heat flows through my body. I start to feel faint. A hand braces me up against the wall. Who are you? There is no response. Answer me! I receive nothing in return. Damn it! It's gone. It was that same voice as before when I'd fainted during our day of school shopping. It's got to be the Society or someone connected to them. They know everything it seems. We can't leave yet though. I can't tell Brandon, he'll freak out and we'll run again. I can't run right now. Our little ones can't run now either. Everything's been so quiet for the last six years, why now? Why can't they just let us be? We aren't doing anything wrong. Enough, I'm going to buy this beautiful dress and go pick my children up from school. I admire the fit in the mirror one last time before shedding the garment and redressing. I tell the customer service girl that I'm ready, we go to the register, I pay, and I go to the school just like every other day, ignoring today's incident.

****

The cooling evening autumn breeze blows against my face, my hair waving gently. I observe my surroundings again...they haven't changed. The same party boat in the river with its obnoxious drunken passengers. The reflection of the city's lights sparkles off the ripples of the river. The cars zip across the water on the stone bridge, their lights seen off and on between the huge pillars. I know what is about to occur. I begin the preparation sequence within my body. My torso begins the process. My mind begins to whirl. The molecules gather. The once slight breeze becomes a swirling gust, the loose sand on and in between the cobblestones beneath my feet starts to surround me. My body is on fire. The crunch behind me sounds. I turn again to face my attacker in hopes of defense. He is within two feet from me, anticipation of my actions. His face is black, nothing to see but eyes, blackened and full of hate. I strike with my full force of power aiming for the emptiness of his head. There is no reaction from him...a cackle fills my mind like laughter bouncing off the sides of an empty fifty gallon drum. A hollow voice follows the snickers. You cannot win, Brandon. I will defeat you, you are worth every penny. I am looking forward to our confrontation in the near future. The weakness in my body comes immediately after the announcement. A flush of coldness fills me, shivers melding into my bones. My energy is being drained from my soul. My brain begins to burn and surge. The pressure in my forehead, behind my skull, is so intense and painful. It feels like a nail is being driven between my eyes. I try to pull myself together again, trying to gather my power. I feel the coldness flow away, the heat begins again. It hurts so badly. I ignore the pain...pulling my energy...focusing it again. Oh my God....it hurts. My brain feels like it is being twisted. A tear escapes my eye and runs down my face. I am collected within, the strike is ready now. I go for the repeated push. He hits me in the chest before I can dispatch my own. My body takes a flight backwards. I flip once head over feet and land hard on my front, still facing him. I wheeze and prop myself up onto my hands and knees. I can't breathe, I gasp for oxygen taking short inhalations at a time to refill my lungs. You are too weak, Brandon. You will not win. A convulsion from my stomach causes me to vomit a little. The vileness of the bile against my taste buds and the filling added to my nasal cavity. The smell and pain of the lurch causes my eyes to water. The pebbles digging into my palms are ignored. My vision fades as it is misted over by the water in my eyes. The figure is walking away...disappearing into the shadows of the night. His dark clothing vanishes from my sights. The sounding of the granules of sand and rock under his feet fade away with his silhouette. The darkness of him becomes the ebon in me...my face hits the cobblestone and I pass out.

I jump up in the bed, Sarah asleep beside me. The tears are dry on my face, the bile's scent still fresh in my nostrils. I look at my hands to find that the imprint of the small rocks had left tiny red imprints. The sweat coats my chest and arms. I maintain a level of quiet as to not wake her. I get out of the bed and go into the master bathroom, close the door, and turn on the light. I check my face in the mirror. There is a slight peppering on my face, tiny red dots just like my palms. A hint of a scratch on my right cheekbone, it is a thin line of a mark and hardly noticeable. It looks like a fingernail scratching and it's very light. I turn on the water. I intend to refreshment my mind with the warmth of the water. I place my hands under the faucet and immediately pull them away, the water is too hot. The tingling flows across my nerves causing my hands to shake in retaliation for a moment. I recover and adjust the temperature, adding cold to the mix. Just a finger to test this time and it's just right. I take both hands and cup them, filling them. I splash it on my face in an attempt to bring myself back to reality and to erase any evidence of the dream. The bumps begin to fade and the mark does as well, it's still there but less noticeably so. I place both hands on the edge of the countertop and stare into the mirror. What is happening to me? Why the dreams? I can't even defend myself, what do I do? Who is he? He obviously wants me dead for some reason. The Society, it's got to be them. He's one of their assassins out to get me. Why can't they just leave us alone? So many questions flow freely through my mind, I don't know any of the answers except one...he will not get to accomplish what they've paid him to do. I am still strong and I have Sarah. Nothing can stop the two of us...nothing. I let the inquisitions fade, clearing my head. I turn off the water, dry my face and hands, turn off the light, and go back to bed. I roll onto the bed and into the covers. My hands reach in and I place it onto Sarah's panty covered butt. She is facing away from me. I run my fingertips up her body. The goose bumps develop as I pass over her soft skin. I reach her neck and then brush her hair away from her ear. My mouth goes to her neck and I kiss up to her earlobe. She lets a soft exhalation of air. She turns her head to me and we kiss deeply. I love you, Sarah. I think to her. I know you do, my darling. We passionately make love and then pass out until the Saturday morning noise of children wakes us. I let Sarah sleep a bit longer, placing my hand on her shoulder as I slide my arm out from under her neck. I kiss her temple and whisper in her ear.

"I got it, beautiful, you sleep." She hears me. Her acknowledgement is a grin with a deep inhale. I roll off the bed, exit the bedroom, close the door quietly, and proceed to the living room. The little voices are coming from the kitchen.

"Ben, stop it." Her voice is at whisper level obviously not trying to alert us. "Wait for Dad to come, he'll help us."

"I can do it, Brie, get out of the way." He is demanding and persistent in his tone. I begin my sneaky approach to see what they are doing. I tip-toe into the dining room, pass the table, and peek into the kitchen. They are barely within view, but I can see what's going on. Ben is maneuvering the cabinet doors with his powers. He's removing the bowls by the stack, eight in all. Sarah's taste in things has ensured a solid dish in every piece of ware that we own. Thick Danish pottery serving platters are all of the contents of the cupboards. Each stack must weigh at least fifteen to twenty pounds. He is moving the pieces easily and landing them perfectly on the countertop as they descend. Upon the setting of the dishes, he physically reaches in and grabs two bowls with his hands. Brie stands next to him with her hands crossed in front of her body in disapproval. I wait patiently by, I don't want to interrupt him and make him lose his concentration. I am further amazed by my boy and his ability. With the pieces back into position, I enter the kitchen.

"Good morning, my little mischievous imps." I laugh.

"Daddy, Ben...," I stop her in telling.

"I know, baby, it's alright, a wasteful use, but alright just the same." Her face calms, she can feel how okay I am with the situation. I feel her worry subside as well. Apparently her care for her brother and the possibility of angering me or her mother was her reasoning for the scolding and concern. I place my hand on top of her head. It's alright Brie, thank you for being so good. I rub the top of her morning do, her little rat's nest of hair. I see her blush. Oh, sorry baby. I apologize for saying it again. It's okay Daddy. I remove my hand and go to the cupboard for the cereal.

"Do you want cereal or would you like me to make you some breakfast this morning?' My question is answered by the innocence of loud 'make something's from both of their mouths simultaneously. "Alright, go in the living room and watch some cartoons and I'll let you know when it's done." They leave immediately. I grab the eggs out of the fridge along with all of the basic fixings for a deliciously filling omelet; sausage, mushrooms, diced onions, tomatoes, and all of the seasonings to make it just right. Once the breakfast is complete and the twins are served and eating, I prepare a special breakfast in bed for Sarah. I make the platter just right and perfectly displayed with a single red rose from the bouquet I had gotten her earlier in the week. I even impress myself sometimes, it's scary.

"You guys be good." Mouth filled answers follow as I leave the room to make a surprise delivery to the love of my life. I am greeted with a sexy yawn and stretch. With an up slide in the bed and a prop up against the headboard, I place the tray on her lap. She smiles at me and I kiss her forehead.

"Thanks, hon. It looks delicious and beautiful." It's her pleasant crackle of a morning throat not completely cleared. She inhales the aromas of the omelet, all of the scents combining in the air. The freshly melted butter soaked into the V-cut pieces of toast adding to the mix.

"You're welcome, sweetie." I sit next to her on the bed carefully as to not tip her tray. The orange juice only waves slightly in its container. She begins to eat slowly, taking lady like bites and at the same time steadily enough for me to know that she is hungry and loves what I'd prepared. She offers me a bite. I comply as she gently places the end of the utensil into my mouth. I close my lips and she withdraws. It is savory if I may say so myself. I chew it and then swallow. She continues the process as I begin in conversation.

"Babe, the twins only have a couple days of school left and I was thinking...," she stops eating and looks at me with concern. "I was thinking that maybe we need a vacation." Her expression settles. "What do you think?

"Thank God you said it, Bran, because I've needed one for a while now." I stare into her eyes and absorb her feeling of relief.

"What did you think I was going to say?" The weight lifted feeling of a possible other stressor has me curious.

"I just thought it was something else, Bran. Maybe you were going to suggest that we move again."

"Why would you think that, my love?" Now I'm even more curious, she must know something.

"Brandon, there's been a voice, it's only happened a couple of times, but he's spoken to me twice now." The vexation has returned. "The first time was in the food court before I fell and the last time was yesterday in the mall, in the changing room." Her announcement doesn't throw me off into a loop considering the fact that I'd heard some things myself.

"Sarah, I have a confession to make...I've heard him too."

"Brandon, we can't keep these things to ourselves anymore. I don't want to run. No matter where we go they will find us. It isn't fair to our children."

"I know, my love, I know." I agree with her wholeheartedly. With the two of us as one, you know the expansion of our abilities. "No more running, no more fear. We will handle them if and when we need to...together."

"He told me something, Brandon...he said that the doctor is wrong." My mouth opens a bit in amazement. I rethink what she'd just told me.

"Sarah, as much as I want to believe that he may be right...we don't even know who he is. How can we trust someone who reveals himself only through thought projection? Darling, I love you so much and I want to believe it, but don't know what to think at this point. The real question still stands if he is correct. What is wrong with you then?"

"Brandon, I don't know, but we have to find out." I begin to get frustrated.

"What are you suggesting, Sarah? We will not go looking for them." I am absolutely serious and she knows this.

"I wasn't saying that, Brandon. Don't you want to know what the hell is wrong with me?"

"Of course I do, if he wants us to know he'll come to us. He's already made a minor attempt in his communications. Maybe he's just trying to test the waters before jumping in. If that is the case, we have nothing to worry about. He's scared of us apparently and that's a good thing." In my past encounters with knowledge acquired I know that there are some very powerful forces to be reckoned with and I'm not really wanting to right now. The guy from my dream, that's a scary nemesis that will take some effort on my part.

"Okay, Brandon, we'll figure it out like we always have." She thinks for a moment and changes the subject abruptly to lighten the atmosphere. "Now where should we take our vacation?"

"Well, my dear...I was thinking someplace like Disney World for the kids. How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfect...I'm going to need a new bathing suit I think." She laughs. Our conversations can go from so serious to so silly in a matter of seconds and it amazes me. I blame the fact that we've had to go through so much of this crap in our lives, seriousness in a situation most of the time doesn't even compare to the losses and other things we've gone through in the past.

"Agreed then...we should wait until school is over before we tell them don't you think? We wouldn't want them to lose focus on the last couple of days." She nods and resumes eating. Everything is fine. There is shopping for her to do and plane tickets to be purchased. There's always so much to do in so little time. It's short notice, but work will have to understand, if not I guess I'll have to find employment somewhere else. Spontaneity is one of the most enjoyable qualities about our marriage. It's mostly my doing, but she is always more than willing to come along for the ride and I appreciate her so much for it. We do everything according to plan and as discussed leaving Ben and Brie out of the loop until school's end. As we arrive on that final day, they get into the car with full backpacks, they sit down in their spots, and I make the announcement immediately. They don't even try to contain their excitement, how can they, they are only five years old. Sarah and I exchange pleased looks and we return home to make the final touches. Our plane leaves tomorrow afternoon and I don't want it to be too long of a night. Work didn't have too much argument with my early summer vacation. I have the leave days coming to me anyway.

****

"Sarah, are you ready yet?" I call out to my darling as the twins sit pleasantly on the couch. They both helped with the luggage loading of the car. "The car's packed and we are ready."

"Brandon...the more you ask me...the longer it's going to take!" She yells from the bathroom where I'll assume she's making the final touches on her make-up. She had made a brief appearance earlier, before the loading had begun, she was wearing the red sundress that she had purchased the other day. She approaches from the hallway. I am always in awe of her, when she dresses the way she has today, my body usual responds if you get what I'm saying. Oh my God, Sarah you are so hot! I make her smile with the thought. I know, my love. She giggles with a schoolgirl-like shyness. Daddy, stop it. Oops...sometimes I forget. I block anything further from seeping out. I look at Brielle who's sitting peacefully and calmly next to Ben. I shrug my shoulders in apology to my little girl, she smiles awkwardly at me. I change focus back to my wife. That dress coupled with her light application of lipstick is intensely attractive to me. Her body is just as I remember it being on the day we'd met. Her mother introduced us at my "grandfather's" gigantic house on a night of mingling and socializing with a few of the now deceased members of the Society chapter in Dallas, Texas. She stands there staring at me, a hand on her hip and canted to the side. One of the things that I love about her is her level of confidence, it is extremely sexy.

"I'm ready, my cute little family." She makes the announcement as if she's the Queen of England prepped for a presentation to the public.

"It's about damn time," I say jokingly to her, she understands my witty humor and is not offended even though she makes the face as if she is. I know better and so does Sarah.

"Well, let's go then." The kids jump up from the sofa with a celebratory yell and a running to the door. I open it for them, they run out, and get into the car. My lady waits behind me, I have one hand on the doorknob with it open wide. She stalks over to me. As she stares deeply into my eyes, our faces get closer. We lean in, and kiss deeply. Our lip lock lasts for about a minute, hands venturing over each other's bodies. She backs away, smiles again, and leaves the house. I grin with love and desire filling my soul, exit the house, and lock the door behind us. We are off to Florida. I wish I'd known then that this was the last time we'd see that house as a complete family.

The plane ride is pleasant and we have spared no expense in comfort. First class tickets to Florida. This being our first official family vacation, Sarah and I want to make sure that it's among the best for the kids. It's the twins first time in the air and the excitement is difficult to contain. We give them each a window seat, Sarah on one aisle seat and me in the other directly across from her. Brielle sits next to me with her eyes fixated on the view outside the window. Ben is seemingly fascinated as well. Their joy is wonderful to me, the feelings projected from them is making me exited as well. They are both quiet and well-mannered on the outside, but on the inside they are flowing with sugared up hype. Sarah looks across the passage at me from her seat and smiles. Bran, we are so lucky. She sends me her thoughts. Why's that my love? I already know what she's about to say, but I play around a bit. The children's delight has me feeling childish and playful. Look at our little family. We are so blessed. She grins more fully upon saying it. I know, Sarah. I reach across the aisle and take her hand using my thumb to gently caress hers. I lift it to my lips and kiss the silken back of it. The scent of perfume enters my nostrils. It drives me crazy, she drives me crazy. The children's excitement eventually winds down long enough for them to take a quick nap. Sarah and my handholding continues in between the all too often flight attendant interruptions. We are on our final approach for decent into the Orlando International Airport. The children wake up with the captain's announcement and the window observations continue, the rejoice resumes.

The airplane lands smoothly, I couldn't have asked for a better first time experience for the children. We wait for a few moments for the aircraft to be assigned a gate, but be finally park and the door is opened. The metallic clicks of unbuckling seatbelts sounding almost simultaneously throughout the plane, from coach to first class. The sound symbolizes freedom to me, the release from a big aluminum tube that can fly. We all stand and start grabbing our bags from the overhead compartments. I gather up our two carry-on bags and let my family lead the way out of the plane as I block the way for anyone from behind to push ahead of us so we can stay together. We deplane and maintain a small hurried huddle to the baggage claim area. The hustle and bustle of an airport has always intrigued me. So many people running quickly to catch a flight to a place most don't really want to go anyway. The business trips, funeral attending, and then the lucky ones going on vacation like us. We aren't in a hurry, excited, but not rushing like the others. We proceed to the baggage claim area. The twins are once again enthralled by all the conveyer belts. It's like a playground to them. They resist the temptation even though it is difficult, my stern look of warning aides in their wise decision of not acting upon the urges. The bags begin to fall from the belt leading to the main oval shaped gathering belt. Thank God that it's the summer months and our clothing is light and consists mainly of sundresses and shorts. We each only have one suitcase making my job that much easier. Sarah and Brielle go to collect a luggage cart for the ease of the load. Ben stands by me waiting to recognize ours as they descend from the ceilings shaft. They arrive and fall onto the circle, Ben and I rush to grab them and set them off to the side one by one. Sarah comes with the cart and we load up. We go to the rental car counter and make the final arrangements for our vehicle. We accept our fully loaded sport utility vehicle with built-in DVD and leather seats. Like I said before, we've spared no expense in making sure that the experience is perfect and comfortable. Thank you Daniel and the Society for all that you've provided us. It's the least they could do for the heartache and anguish they'd caused us through the last few years. I pay the car rental customer service representative a little extra. I want someone to deliver the vehicle to us curbside. She accepts the generous offer and makes a phone call.

"The car will be around shortly, sir," she says after hanging up the telephone.

"Thank you, ma'am," I say, as she passes me the necessary insurance and contract paperwork. She smiles and nods at me, I grab the cart with the luggage where Bennett has been my mature, little man, and we go to the exit. The wait for the delivery of the truck isn't long. I tip the roughly dressed kid who's dropped it off, even though I'd already paid the lady at the counter, who knows if he's going to receive a dividend from that bit. His khaki shorts, dirty white tennis shoes, green polo shirt, tattered tan baseball cap with a music band logo on it, and overgrown goatee tells me that the money will probably go to waste on fun, but it's not my place to make that decision. I'm in the position to be kind so I try to be when I am able. He thanks me kindly and departs back inside. The air conditioning breeze rushes out from inside the terminal as he goes through the automatic doors. The breeze is warm, but the overhead protection in the curbside parking next to the airport protects us from the sun. We load up, buckle up, I input the destination on the global position system built in the vehicle, and we are on our way to the hotel. A calm evening of dining out and lazing about an expensive hotel room is in store for us in preparation for an exciting tomorrow of theme parks and exploration.

We arrive at the hotel, get out of the truck, and the kids stare up at the levels of the structure. Their mouths are agape. The hotel is upscale and classy, very touristy. I chose it online just after I booked our airline tickets. The virtual tour was what sold me on it. The outside of the building has wonderfully carved hedges lining the walk to the entrance. The palm trees are placed randomly and perfectly in the parking lot medians and near the hotel itself. Sarah and I decide to check in before I come back to the rental vehicle to fetch the luggage even though the valet who greets us would have easily taken care of it for us. The children unbuckle their belts in the back seat as Sarah and I get out and open each of their doors so they can get out. I hand the valet the keys and we walk toward the hotel. The hot Florida sun glares down on our heads, a short realization that goes ignored. The humidity is a bit harder to dismiss as the stickiness penetrates my clothing and drills at my core. Nevada's aridness is something to get used to, but this is so much different. We enter through the all glass doors, the gold colored oversized handle shines brilliantly in the radiance of the sun. The handle is highly polished and obviously well maintained. There aren't any of the usual smudges or tarnishes from the many sweaty, oily human hands having touched it. We walk into the hotel lobby being greeted with a gigantic terrarium with glorious plants just beyond the marble finished floor perfectly shined. I gaze further into the jungle to see a path flowing through it with bridges for crossing over the manmade creek within. Two beautiful white swans float brilliantly in the water adding to the water's edge. They are angels disguised as fowl, glorious in their innocent luster. Further that lies, what looks to be, a nice restaurant nestled into a cave on the backside of the hotel. I hear the muffled laughter and splashing coming from somewhere within, evidently there is an indoor pool as well? I didn't see that on the virtual tour. The desk is located directly to the left on the marble. It looks as though the marble formed this station as well.

A bump to the shoulder, Sarah breaks me from the trance. I look at her briefly and go to the counter. A pretty younger woman is at the hotel's reception desk. Her hair is a light brown and wavy. A crisp Florida tan complexion accenting her green eyes, they are obviously colored contact lenses, surely they aren't necessary. She has the typical beach body from what I can tell. Wearing the uniform of the hotel, a black vest, black pants, and a golden name tag attached. The tag reads 'Anita'.

"Hi there, the Smiths' are here for check in." She shoots me a welcoming smile revealing her strangely bright whites as she mans the computer strategically placed beneath the overhang of the marble-topped desk. She begins typing like a mad woman and, not breaking from her fixation on the screen, "I need to verify your information, Sir, could I please have some identification?" Her southern drawl shows through a bit, not enough that a person would know that she's from a deep southern state, but just a little of it sticks out in her speech. I quickly mumble an affirmative and reach into the back pocket of my cargo shorts. If I'd have been thinking, I would've already had my fake identification ready to go. I pull my brown leather wallet from my right back pocket. It sticks a bit in the material of it as I pull it back and forth from its confines. I flip it open and reach in for my Nevada driver's license, presenting it to Anita. She does her thing behind the counter as we wait. It takes moments for her to place the room cards on its surface.

"There you go, Sir. You're in room 136. Follow the path and take the first right. It's the room directly in front of you as you come out of the terrarium." Anita announces as I slide my hand to gather my identification and the enveloped room keys from the countertop. I thank her and turn to my family. The children are watching the swans from the lobby while they maintain a safe distance from their mother. I lazily send a message to Sarah. Let's go to the room first. I'll get the bags later. She knows and is just as tired as I am. Jetlag, you've got to love it!

We take a few steps before the trees take over our sights. The gurgling of the brook running along the path plays in my ears. Bits of slated rock have been added to the creek to create little ripples and waterfalls, the bubbles popping into the atmosphere as they break the surface. It has a pleasant serenity to it, a Zen. The peacefulness of the surroundings ease the mind tremendously, as all my cares, the nightmares, the voices, the haunting recollections of the Society from the past, all escaping my soul just for these moments. Ben and Brielle wander inquisitively in front of us admiring the terrarium as children do, but I still feel the calming effect. Their excitement doesn't affect me in my empathic overflow of emotions. They are fixated on the white angelic creatures plundering at each other's plumage in the shallow pond that the river flows into where the path meets a four-way intersection in the middle. Brielle squats at the water's edge holding her hand out to the fowl whispering to them. They glance in her direction and lower their necks. The webbed feet push their bodies closer to her hand slowly. Their long graceful necks weave to the right and left beautifully as they approach. The blackness of their eyes is deceitful to the rest of the outer package. They are so perfect and heavenly in appearance. The bigger of the two bows his head to Brielle's hand so she can touch his feathered head. Her small digits make contact with his brilliant plumage. She begins to pet him as the other swan waits for her turn, nuzzling against him. Brielle lets out a slight delighted chuckle as her fingers mess the top of its head. Ben walks over to his sister to join in on the fun. The swan recoils from her as he approaches. The male swan lets out a hiss as a warning. Ben continues nearing not knowing what that means. His wings begin to flare as the female backs away from him. He starts to back away as well as he opens them and starts to flap them violently. The wind he is creating is a surprise as the small white down flies through the air like snow everywhere. She swims quickly to the opposite end of the pond as he conducts his display of anger and discomfort. His feet begin to paddle quickly as his body lifts nearly out of the water in protest, hissing constant.

"Bennett, Brielle, come here." Sarah says to them. Brielle glances back and stands, totally confused by the event. Ben turns and meets us, no reaction seems noticeable. We act as though nothing had happened as to not make Ben feel bad and continued toward our room. Just as Anita had said, room 136 is directly in front as you come off the path. The room number shines brilliantly in brass affixed to the door itself. The 1, the 3, and the 6 slightly decline in alignment from the left, the 1 being in the highest position. I remove the room keys from my pocket and take one out of the envelope the hotel desk clerk had placed them in. I slide it into the card reader next to the door and watch as the light indicator changes to green. Sarah opens the door and the children run into the room. I walk in behind everyone, the room is huge! The virtual tour online certainly gave the hotel no justice. They should probably hire a new web designer to represent their establishment better.

I close the door behind us while admiring the spaciousness of the room. Upon initial entry, there are two sofas in classic brown leather, one love seat and one regular sized to the left. The couches are arranged in an L-shape with a small accenting table on each end and in the corner between. An ornate wooden desk with a small lamp sits against the wall to the right. An armoire sits against the wall on the opposite end of the entry space, an obvious hiding place for the television for those evenings and rainy days for the visitor. A bureau stands next to the desk with a microwave, coffee pot, condiments, and a larger than normal apartment refrigerator sits below. The twins explore carelessly around the room. Sarah and I are just as bad. We walk down the hallway directly in front of us passing a large wall mirror on the right. Shortly after the mirror, there is another room, a bedroom off to the right as well. That one is for the twins. The king-sized bed for two young children will be perfect. A huge bath off to the left in the hall with a glass shower stall, shower heads on each wall and perfectly folded towels hanging from the exterior rack. A long, double sink and brass faucets fill the space beautifully. Of course, the toilet, nothing special about that! As Brie would say when she was little, that's where poop goes, it's a thought that flashes quickly in my head. Her tiny voice echoes within. The grand finale, the master bedroom with a massive king-sized bed fills the room. The comforter on the bed is plush and full. Sarah and I have to drop onto the bed with a sigh of relief as our bodies hit the softness of the down. We lay there on our stomachs for what seemed like hours, side-by-side, staring at each other. We don't have to say anything. We don't have to pass thoughts into each other's heads. We just lay there and look at each other. We are in love, relaxed, and happy, nothing else matters outside of our family.

After the reality of our being sets in, I gather myself to go out to the rental to get our luggage, leaving the rest of the family in the room. Sarah has the kids picking a channel that they'll both enjoy on the television set as I leave. Closing the door behind me, I walk through the terrarium. The swans are back to plucking and fluffing each other's feathers as I pass them. I take the left and pass across the marbled floor of the lobby, out the door. The late day humidity hits me like a hot, wet towel slapping me across the face. I hadn't prepared myself for the heat prior to exiting the comfort of the hotel's air conditioning. It nearly takes my breath away. I ask the valet to fetch my keys and ask where he parked the vehicle. He goes into the hotel and gathers them and returns, pointing me to the rental. I go the short distance to the automobile, unlock the back, and grab the luggage out. I relock the vehicle, walk back, hand the keys to the valet, thank him, and hand him the tip I neglected to pass upon arrival. He thanks me and I go back to the room. The kids are sitting on opposite couches watching cartoons. I put their bag in their room and ours in our room. Sarah is in the bathroom.

"Are you okay, honey?" I ask her through the door after placing the bags in their places.

"Yeah, my head's spinning a little, but I'll be fine. Can we catch some dinner down in the restaurant in the hotel in a bit rather than going out?" Her voice is a little muffled through the density of the door's wood.

"Sure, that's fine honey." I walk away from the bathroom door and join the kids in the sitting area. "What do you guys think?" I ask as I join Brielle on the little sofa.

"This place is really cool, Daddy." She responds without breaking her fixation on the television. Ben says nothing as he is just as mesmerized by the action of the animated drawings motions. I then drone out on the boob tube myself. What grown man doesn't enjoy a good cartoon now and again?

We sit and watch the animations for a few more minutes until Sarah emerges from the bathroom. "Are you sure you're ok?" I ask her. Her complexion has gone from the usual olive beauty to an olive with a greenish hew.

"I'll be alright, Brandon." Her words seem a bit struggled and shaky.

"We can always just order room service, my love." I don't want her to overdo it on the first day of our vacation.

"Seriously, I'm ok, honey. We'll go grab a bite to eat, I'll feel better." She forces a smile in my direction. I know she's just trying to be nice and not ruin the vacation for myself and the children, but I'm not going to argue with her because that'll just make her mad.

"Okay, kids, go change your shirts and get ready to go eat." It's getting late, a bit passed our usual dinner time. I'm surprised they hadn't said anything about being hungry yet. They get up from the couches and go into their separate hotel room to their suitcases to get ready. I approach Sarah and grab her for a hug, holding her tightly, but not too hard because of her fragile state. I catch a whiff of her hair as I hold her. It smells freshly shampooed, like lavender and vanilla, even though I know that it was this morning before the flight that she had bathed. I love the smell of her hair, the beauty of her complexion, everything about her. My darling wife, the woman who I had no idea of how wonderful her being until one night, our first date, she exposed the extent of her talents. The flashing memory flew through my mind in great detail. The vulgarity of the men stalking us on the dark streets was intense. The thoughts that they were thinking, the things they were planning to do to her. They were going to rape her, beat her, and make me watch before killing us both. We put a stop to their plans by taking their godless souls from their bodies. We used our gifts to help the world. The pain we caused them before their deaths saved the world from terror. Sarah's use of her telekinesis is so intense and wonderfully controlled. Knowing that I'll never have to worry about her wellbeing used to be a glorious thought. Now, I don't know what to think. I worry for her every minute of every day. The blackouts, the headaches, and the illness have me so lost and scared. Stop it right now, Brandon. She interrupts my morbid thoughts with a mental vocal invasion.

"I'm sorry, Sarah, I can't help it. I'm scared. Brandon Hudson is scared?" Hearing myself say that out loud threw me for a loop. I've never truly been so scared for something than I am right now. That's what even scares me more. I don't know what I'd do without Sarah. How would I live? You have to stop thinking like that, Brandon, please. I am going to be fine. We're going to enjoy our vacation and the kids are going to have a wonderful time. Please, stop thinking like that. I acknowledge her request with a kiss on her clammy forehead. I pull my face away from hers and give her the best smile in reassurance that I can muster. She returns the favor, just as fake as mine, but still a good effort on both of our parts. The kids run back into the hotel living room, excited to go eat. I guess they've finally realized it's time to eat, the jetlag is effecting me once again. Sarah and I release our embrace as she goes back to the bedroom to change into something a bit more appropriate for dinner in an upscale hotel. She returns shortly looking as marvelous as ever. The usual "jeans and t-shirt" girl is dressed in a stunning deep brown sundress accenting her eyes and hair gloriously. It may not be super dressy, but I don't think anyone in the restaurant will deny her entry. I run back to the room myself, leaving Sarah and the kids to wait for my return. Cartoons still dance on the television, they are so mind numbing. I chuckle a little at the thought. I reopen the suitcase and grab out a crisp white long-sleeved button-down shirt to put on. I remove the current shirt; it's slightly damp from my trips outside in the damp Floridian atmosphere. I throw the old top into the empty corner and grab its replacement, slipping my arms into it, buttoning from bottom to top, and carefully rolling the sleeve cuffs a couple of times. I reach into the inside pouch of the suitcase on the interior of the flap and pull out my silver watch. The combination makes me look touristy, but dressy enough to pass. I close the suitcase, zip it back up, and return to my family in the front of the room.

"Alright, all ready to go?" I announce upon entry. The children let out their excitement and go to the door. I open it for all to leave before I do.

We walk through the terrarium and go to the right toward the restaurant on the far end of the hotels forest. The word "Coquette" is spelled delicately above the doors. The exterior glass of the entrance is frosted so the patron entering can't see the people within. Brass handles like the ones at the front of the hotel, are bracketed to the doors here as well. I'm not very practiced in French so, hopefully, the menus are in English. I open the door to see the place is a bit on the busy side. The hostess greets us immediately. She's wearing a silky black shirt and a smile. I glance around the restaurant at the tables and the hustle and bustle of the wait staff. The customers are enjoying their meals under candlelight with a dim manmade lighting from above. Their candles flicker slightly on each of the dark wooden tables. There is a mosaic look to the motif of the dining establishment. It has a modern, stuffy feel with cozy undertones. White table cloths layer the tables, the lining canted sideways so the corners overhang the long sides of the table. Quiet conversations keep themselves at a muffled tone. Ben and Brielle stand next to us quietly, once again, amazed by the atmosphere.

"Would you like a table for four?" The hostess asks us.

"Yes, thank you." Sarah responds to her pleasantly.

"Right this way." She announces as she turns to the interior of the dining establishment. We follow her, absorbing the surroundings along the way. I watch carefully as to not embarrass myself in tripping over my own feet. She brings us to a table in the far right corner. I pull Sarah's chair out for her as the children take a chair on opposite sides of the table from each other, a habit instilled in them. The seating arrangement makes it easier for us to assist them in their eating if they have difficulties. They pull out their chairs and Sarah sits as I push the chair in slightly. I find my seat. The hostess excuses herself politely and returns quickly with water, rolls, and menus. The ice cubes in the water contained wine glasses glimmer with the candle's flame flickering in the background in the center of the table. The cloth napkin lined roll basket gives off heat vapors, obviously fresh from the oven. Within the container, next to the rolls, is a metal bowl filled with what looks to be fluffy cinnamon butter. The bits of brown sprinkles are scattered within the whisked mixture. The metallic gold lettering and border from the menus sparkle brilliantly in the lighting. I notice Brielle's longing look from my peripheral vision while looking at the menu. I know what she wants. I give her a nodded assurance to help herself to one of the rolls in front of us. She gently takes one from the basket and quickly drops it on her plate announcing that she's ok before we even get a chance to ask her. She wipes her hand against her shirt as little kids do without thinking. The minimal amount of butter used to glaze the finished product of the bread isn't enough to leave a mark on her clothing. I take my butter knife and halfway cut her roll open. I then go to the butter container with the edge of the knife. The heat from cutting the roll melts right through the butter in the shape of a scoop of ice cream. I rush the metal utensil toward the roll before the butter falls helplessly to the table due to overexposure to temperature. Sarah begins to help Bennett with his share of a roll as well. I spread the butter onto the bottom half for Brielle as she looks on with delight. I reach over and close the lid. It's cooled off significantly after breaking the seal that was holding in the heat from the exterior crust. She thanks me and picks up the tasty morsel, taking a bite. I smile and return my focus to the menu, having no idea what I would like to eat. Sarah has finished with Ben and is doing the same. We take a few moments to decide. A waitress comes to our table to take care of us. Her attire matches the hostess'. We ask the twins what they'd like and tell her what we've decided. She goes to put our order in to the chefs in the kitchen. I look at Sarah and smile, her skin is looking better, the flushness seems to have gone for now. The children are nibbling on a second roll each while they wait for their food. It doesn't matter where you go, Brandon, we'll find you. The words invade my thoughts just as before. My forehead scrunches up in distress as my eyes glance around the room quickly to find the source. Sarah sees my expression. What's wrong, Brandon? She asks me telepathically. That voice just spoke to me again. I respond. Her expression mimics my own. Her back is to the rest of the crowd so she is unable to nonchalantly seek the source. I don't see anything abnormal. In my experience, the voice could be coming from anyone anywhere in the World. Daniel would manipulate me from states away, I don't know how he did it, but he did it. There are a lot of mysteries to our talents and, since I don't have that gift, I haven't the slightest idea how it works exactly. I notice Brielle staring at me with a look of discomfort. What's wrong? I ask her. I heard it too, Daddy. The wrinkles in my forehead feel like they are becoming more predominant. It's one thing to mess with me, another completely to mess with my wife, and now my daughter? I begin to look more frantically and find nothing. Everyone is at least coupled. There are no single people amongst the diners. They are all carrying on conversation and nothing looks out of the ordinary.

If I would've noticed the couple sitting at the table against the wall opposite us, I would've been able to take care of the problem before the future events could've come about. He wasn't staring at me and neither was she. He was focusing on stirring the liquid in the cup on the saucer. The teaspoon mixing the cream in slowly as a white swirl slowly turned the dark brown into a light tan. She was picking at her food without actually consuming any of it.

Not wanting to alert the children too much, we waited for our meal and ignored what had just happened. The kids have to eat and so do we. The way Sarah has been feeling, she has to get some quality food in her body.

We get our food, finish our meal, pay the bill, and return to the room. The delicious meal was wonderful, but stifled by the undertones of the voice. Our conversation is minimal. My mind wanders as we prepare the kids for bed. We have to watch ourselves. With the children's powers developing, the Society will stop at nothing to try and get to them. To use them for their own selfish gain, I still don't understand their obsession with people like us. The years upon years they've spent tracking, planning, and breeding us. The depth of their plan is so deep. The depth of the family planting is unfathomable. My grandparents, Daniel, Sarah and myself, what detail and thought had gone into all of it? What is the ultimate goal? I don't know the answer to that question and don't really know if I want to find out. All I know is that it involves my family and that's the main reason why it turns me off so much. I don't want to have anything to do with the Society after what they put me through in the past. The twins are each dressing, one in the bathroom and one in their hotel bedroom, after we'd picked out their pajamas. When Bennett comes out of the bathroom, Brielle emerges from the room. They announce they are ready, Sarah tells them to brush their teeth and they obey. After about a minute, they come back out, Brielle takes a bit longer than Ben in the brushing of his choppers. Together, we scurry them off to the king-sized bed and sit by them as we say our evening prayers. We take turns kissing them each on the forehead, exit the room, and close the door to just a crack to provide the much needed comfort for kids in the dark of the night. Sarah and I go to the couch to watch a bit of television before retiring ourselves. We snuggle up on the couch, me sitting and her using my lap as a pillow, our normal routine during our days off from work after the children are off to bed. It's necessary wind-down time for our brains prior to sleep, especially tonight. We're exhausted.

"Brandon, what are we going to do?" Sarah restarts the conversation from the restaurant, obviously thinking about it since the incident. I'd been feeling the stress from her since and it still rode on her shoulders heavily. I have to admit, I hadn't been able to relax since then either. Why can't they just leave us alone? We've done nothing to draw attention to ourselves. We've kept everything under wraps. We've left them alone.

"I honestly don't know, Sarah." I answer her question the best that I can.

"I scanned the room and couldn't find where the voice was coming from."

"I know, I was too after I saw the look on your face. I came up empty as well. What are we going to do? We can't keep hiding forever." I could feel her frustration and her voice wavered as she spoke as if she was going to cry. "It's not fair to Ben and Brie. Why can't they just leave us alone?"

I sweep my fingers through her soft hair and go to rub her forehead gently in reassurance. "I think we should just live, Sarah. We'll just wait for it. I don't know what else to do, but I do know that we can't keep hiding and will never be able to avoid them completely. Wherever we go, they find us, whatever we do, that voice comes to me. It's our only option. We'll keep our eyes open, but go about our lives like normal people, well, as normal as we can for people like us." We both chuckle a bit, breaking the stress. It's settled then. We will no longer hide or pretend. We will go about life as we should, normally. With that, we decide to go to bed. Little do we know, someone is listening rooms away from ours, she's using her abilities to eavesdrop on our conversation and preparing to pounce like a cat at the first opportunity.

****

We wake to the morning sun, it pours into the room from the sheer panel covered window. We are both awake, spooning, not wanting to get out of the overly comfortable bed. The overwhelming sensation in my bladder forces me to get up. Some things just can't wait, no matter how much you'd rather they would. I kiss Sarah on the side of her head and whisper a good morning in her ear. She replies with a good morning in return. I throw my side of the covers back to expose my boxer clad body. I turn my body to the left as my legs drape over the edge of the bed and onto the carpeted floor. I then reach down to gather the t-shirt I'd stripped off the night before and tossed next to the bed. I pull the shirt over my head, stand up, and straighten the bottom to mostly cover my boxers. I leave the room and enter the bathroom. I finish and then conduct my morning teeth brushing. I walk out of the bathroom and go to check on the children, they are lying in their bed. Brielle is awake and sees me peeking in.

"Good morning daddy." She whispers to me, not wanting to wake Bennett. I motion for her to come out. She sneakily slips out of the bed. Their room isn't capturing quite as much light from the southern sun as ours is. Maybe Bennett can get some much needed rest; it's still a little early anyway. I'm so used to getting up at this time; it's hard to sleep in. We go into the living room.

"Hey, are you hungry?" I ask her with some enthusiasm.

"Yeah," she answers as her eyes light up.

"How about we go get some breakfast for all of us? We'll let mommy and Ben sleep in a little." Before I even get the sentence fully out of my mouth, she's already tip toeing into the room to gather some clothes. I go back into our room to grab an outfit myself and to let Sarah know what we're going to do. She acknowledges as I kiss her temple, she lets out a comfortable sigh. I reach into the suitcase to grab a pair of shorts and a different t-shirt, the one I'm wearing isn't appropriate, it's an undershirt. Lastly, I fish one of my brown leather belts out of the outer pouch. As to not disturb Sarah, I go into the bathroom to dress. I slip off my boxers and t-shirt and replace them with the new clothes. I weave the belt through the short's loops and buckle the front just enough. I leave the bathroom and meet Brielle in the living room. She's put on her pink Capri outfit and looks adorable.

"Go brush your teeth and hair quick, honey." She goes in right away and returns a few minutes later. I grab my wallet and the room keys from the desk and we leave the hotel room.

****

I lay in the bed as I hear the door latch when Brandon and Brielle leave for breakfast. This bed is so cozy, I wish we had one like this at home. My head has been hurting so much lately, I don't know what's going on with me and it's driving me crazy. My powers are getting weaker by the day it seems. I try to listen to my handsome husband's thoughts and I can only get in there sometimes. I'm not trying to pry and eavesdrop, I'm trying to practice and figure out what's going on with me. Maybe my mind is triggering differently than it used to, I don't know. It aches so badly now when I do it, I won't deny that. It's like a constant migraine in the front of my skull. I won't tell Brandon that it hurts; he worries too much about me already. I bury my head further into the downy pillow as it envelopes the side of it. Oh, it's so comfortable. I hear a little rattle in the living room area of the hotel room. Maybe Brandon forgot something? I decide to get out of the bed. I've been here long enough. I exit the bedroom. Brandon's not out here. The cushion of the carpet is comforting on my feet. The bathroom door is open. I look in on Bennett. He's still sleeping, his back to the entrance to the room, the covers up to his neck. The rattle comes from the door again. I turn to look at it. The knob is turning slightly, slowly. I walk over to it and peer out of the peep hole. There is nobody there. It must have been my imagination. I back away from the door and begin to turn back toward the bathroom. The door flies open, the wood from the interior frame hits me in the back of the calf. I stumble forward a bit from the force. Regaining my footing, I spin on the heel of my foot to look in the direction of the door. A tall man with dark hair and blackened eyes is staring deeply into mine. The circles under his eyes make me think either hasn't slept in weeks or is really high on some kind of drug. A half-smirk decorates his face. It is the expression of a madman. I don't know what he has in mind, but he's picked the wrong woman to mess with. His thoughts are blank to me. The usual images of violence that flood into my brain are absent. I gather my focus in attempt to protect myself. I feel the heat flowing, tingling from my toes into my core. That's not going to work, Sarah. The heat begins to subside and return to the source. The pain in my head intensifies like a needle pushing into my forehead. I go for my powers again. His eyes bury themselves into my soul. A drilling force into my skull increases even more as I reach further and deeper to use my telekinesis. Fighting me isn't going to work, Sarah. I see her as she steps into the doorway. Remember what it's like when there are two of you to fight against one? I think you do. Too bad Brandon isn't here to help you this time. You can't win, you know you can't. Don't resist us. The pain inside my brain gets even stronger.

It hurts so badly! God, please help me! BRANDON!!! I use the last of what I have to call out to the love of my life as I fade into darkness...

****

Brielle and I are at a convenience store not far from the hotel. We are looking through the aisles for something good for breakfast.

"How about we get some donuts, Brie?" I ask her as we near the display beautifully showing the chocolates, vanillas, strawberries, custards, plain whites, and the peanut butters with colorful sprinkles on some, nuts on others, and just frosting on others. The donuts are very welcoming to my stomach. The unsettling meal from last night just didn't do the trick. Even if it had, it would be digested by now anyway. It's time to get more nourishment. I realize Brielle hadn't answered my question. She's not next to me as she was just moments ago. I look frantically around. I swivel and turn to the aisle we had just come from. She's standing there. Her eyes are as wide as saucers. BRANDON!!! Sarah's voice penetrates my mind violently. Her scream is piercing and violates my brain deeper than my eardrums. It seers directly into my thoughts, my hands instinctively cup my ears even though I know that will not help. I double over into a squatting position next to Brielle in pain. It subsides. Tears are flowing from her eyes. She takes in a concentrated breath.

"Mommy!" She screams at the top of her lungs in the middle of the once peaceful store. My immediate response is to cover her mouth. Her young voice shatters the silence and then is muffled. A rack of 2-liter bottles of soda near her explode. The colas splatter everything around them, leaving a sugary, syrup as the liquid lands. I scoop her up into my arms. I run from the mart with my daughter's legs wrapped around my waist, my arms wrapped tightly around her. The man at the register stares at us with his mouth agape; he hasn't the slightest clue as to what has just occurred. He knows that she's my daughter if he's been observing our activities during our short stay at all. I run as quickly as I possibly can down the sidewalk toward the hotel's main entrance. Please, let them be okay. Please, let them be okay. The words keep flowing through my mind as I stride. I am subconsciously careful as I avoid everything in my path so I don't stumble and hurt Brielle in the process. As we near the hotel I dart my eyes around to see if I notice anything out of the ordinary and see nothing. We get to the door. I have to have Brie get down in order to open the door to the hotel. I take her hand into mine as I open the door. We run through the lobby, not caring who notices. She struggles to keep up, I shorten my stride. We dart through the forest, head right down the path to the room's door, and inside the room. The door opens without resistance and I see why immediately upon entering. Shards from the door's frame are scattered about the carpeting of the room. A small sprinkling of red liquid spots the floor. It's obviously blood. Oh my God! I let go of Brielle's small helpless hand and run to the bedroom where the blood dots lead me. I throw open the door, there's nobody in it. The bed is sitting unmade as if she'd just gotten out of it.

"Sarah!" I know that there will be no answer, but it's instinctual to do so. "Bennett!" The thought hits me. I go to the kids' room. His bed is not messed up. The covers are pulled downward, about half the length of the bed. He's not here either. They got them, they got them! Oh my God! Where are they? I look under the bed. I go to the bathroom frantically. I know they are gone, but have to check anyway. I return to our room and look under that bed as well. Nothing. I pull the covers down to the floor, unmaking the bed completely. I turn back to see the blood trail ending near the bedroom door. I reach down and touch one of the drops with the tip of my finger. I turn it toward myself. The blood is still wet and stains my finger. The carpet hasn't even had enough time to absorb and dry the liquid. Sarah? I try again, only with my mind this time. I know they aren't here and I have to know if I can contact my wife. Sarah!!! My desperation is heard in my mental projection. If she hears me, I want her to hear me as well as I heard her. No answer. I feel empty. I've failed at protecting my family. My wife and son are gone!

If you want to ever see them again, Brandon, you'll meet me in Paris, her life for yours. The voice hisses in my head, hollow like someone speaking into a plastic cup. Brielle looks at me with her eyes still wide and teary.

What have you done with them?! I'm going to kill you! I know there will not be an answer, but I'm not threatening, I will find him and I will kill him. I squat down to her level and take her in my arms, squeezing her tightly.

"Everything will be okay. We will find them. I promise." I feel her breathe escape her lungs. The promise from a father eases the mind of a child. I can feel her worry, but her fear is subsiding. She hugs me back as hard as she possibly can with her petite little arms. I cradle her long enough for her not to be able to see the tears in my eyes. I have to be strong for all of us now. I will redeem myself and get my family back together. She can't see her father cry right now. I don't want her to feel my helplessness and sorrow. I wait for the tears to subside, swallow hard, and pull away from her keeping my hands on her shoulders. I look deeply into her eyes.

"Brielle, we need to help each other now. We have to be strong for each other. Can you help me?" She stares straight back at me, our souls mentally connecting, father and daughter.

"We will get them back, Daddy." Her eyes flash a lighter blue, nearly a translucent coloring flows and then the color returns. I am set aback by the maturity of her statement and the quick colorlessness of her eyes. She says it so matter-of-factly that it leaves me at a loss for words. Such a little girl understanding the extent of what we can do? Is that possible?

"Yes we will, Brielle." I begin tapering off. "Yes we will." I break myself from the questions about my little girl to other thoughts. I remember my dream. The lights, the tower, the river, the bridge, and the language the drunks on the boat were speaking. Paris? This whole time I've been dreaming about Paris. Was it a premonition? Has it been just a dream? Has the man who took the other half of my family been pushing these dreams into my head? I don't know. I do know one thing; I will do anything and everything within my power to get my wife and son back! I'm hoping it's just all just been a dream. That guys powers were strong and for me to endure that kind of pain in a dream, I cannot even begin to be compared to real life! I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I stand up and go to the bedroom where I gather up whatever I can from the luggage. I had packed a small backpack in the outer pouch of the suitcase for our outings. Kids always need something and it's a heck of a lot easier to carry things on your back than in ones hands. I go through Sarah's purse for the things we need, credit cards, I.D.s, cash, bank cards, and passports. I grab a change of clothes for Sarah and me and then go into the kids' room to gather an outfit for each of them. I shove them hastily into the backpack and zip up the pouches. I can afford to buy new stuff if we need it. All I can think about right now is getting as little as I can in a bag and getting the hell out of here. The sooner we're on a plane to Europe, the sooner I'll be able to track down the abductor of my wife and child.

I take Brielle's hand and we walk out of the hotel through one of the fire exits located at the side of the terrarium. So much for a nice peaceful family vacation, once again, after all these years, the Society has interrupted my life! We walk out the side door onto a sidewalk and begin to walk to the left, avoiding the front of the building after the recent scene that might have been noticed. The traffic flows steadily to the right of me as we walk normally down the sidewalk. Brielle walks to the left of me, closest to the buildings and away from the traffic. I look around to see what kind of landmarks or businesses are nearby. There is a popular fast food place on the opposite corner less than a block ahead of us. We continue to jaunt. The people on the sidewalk are minimal so there is no fighting through a crowd. As we near the crosswalk in front of us, the light changes to red. It then immediately changes back to green as we get within a couple of feet of the curb. We cross the road. I look to my left at the drivers of the first two cars stopped at the light. They are both looking up confused by the quick change of the light. It was as though the light changed and then decided that it wasn't ready to flash the red illumination quite yet. Brielle and I step up the curb on the other side of the crossing. I turn to the right and she follows my lead. The other intersection's light is green so we were free to go to the other side into the fast food place located on that corner. The traffic that had once been stopped by a funny light was now flowing through the intersection. We make it to the opposite corner. I look up to see the identifying road signs so I can call a taxi cab to get us to the airport and tell them our pick up location. We go into the eating establishment and approach the counter. A Hispanic woman behind the counter asks if she can help me. I tell her yes, could she tell me a number for a taxi. She does and I punch the numbers into the phone as she says them. The cab company dispatcher answers, I tell her my location, thank her, and we find a seat near a window to wait for the driver to arrive. I look at Brie sitting across from me at our small couples table. Her feet dangle from the cheaply constructed deep red fiberglass and metal chair. The late morning sun shines in on us from its position at the middle of the horizon.

"Are you hungry honey?" I know with everything going on, she's probably starving. Our breakfast got interrupted.

"No, Daddy, I'm fine." She looks back at me; her blue eyes are sad but determined. We're going to find the bad man who took Mommy and Ben, Daddy. She knows the importance of keeping everything under wraps and shoots me the mental vocalization so nobody else can hear her. I stare at her in amazement and send her a smile in reassurance and understanding. We sit for a few moments droning off at the nearby traffic and people when the cab pulls into the parking lot. I gather our things. I notice her right shoelace dangling beyond her shoe, almost to the floor. I squat down in front of her and tie it for her quickly before we start walking again. She smiles at me. The ease in which she is taking this whole thing is a little unnerving. I told you, we're going to find them, Daddy. Don't worry. I look up at her as I blindly, habitually complete the loops on her sneakers. I know, Brie. Let's go. She hops off her chair and I take her hand. We leave the building and go to the taxi. I open the yellow door and she jumps into the back first. I remove the backpack from my shoulders and roll the strap around to my front as I enter the vehicle. I sit next to her with the pack on my lap and shut the door.

"To the airport please." I announce to the cab driver. He nods his head, backs the car out of the parking space, and shifts the car into drive. We are on our way. I gaze out the window and watch the cars zip passed in the opposite lane as we race to the airport at taxi driver speeds. The frustration in my head is getting worse with every passing moment. My wife and son are gone. The Society is back in my life. Why wasn't I born into a normal family without these abilities? I could've had a normal life with a regular wife and a plain, ordinary little family. Who am I kidding? I love being me. I love what I can do. I love my family and everything they can do. We'll overcome this. We'll find them and get them back. I feel a little hand touch the top of mine. I look to my right at Brie. She's glancing up at me with a smile. I told you, Daddy, we're going to find them. I had a dream about it. My little girl has a lot more going on in her head than I thought.

We find Mommy and Bennett in your dream, Brie? I ask her. Yeah. So, not only does she have my empathy and her mother's mind reading, she's also able to see into the future? Awesome! I have my moments with the dreams, but usually they are more like a déjà vu and I never know when the events are going to take place until they actually are happening. I regain my brain and look back out the window, the airport is only a couple of miles away according to the sign above the highway.

****

We're sitting in the back seat of a sport utility vehicle. The windows are tinted so much I don't think anyone can see inside. I can't move. I can't think straight. Everything is hazy. I groggily turn my head from the window toward the inside of the vehicle. The man who busted into the hotel room is driving. There isn't anyone in the passenger seat. I slowly turn more. My heart double beats in my chest as I realize the woman who was with the man is staring at me. Her eyes are ablaze. The darkness of the pupils has enveloped the entirety of her eye. They are black and full, soulless. I try to gather up enough to fight back, but nothing happens. Something is subduing my powers. Can't do anything to fight back, she has complete control over me. I break my lock on her eyes and see Ben curled up next to the door opposite me. The woman is creating a barrier between us and there's nothing I can do about it. I am helpless.

"You might as well relax, Sarah. We will be there soon enough. Why don't you get some sleep?" The voice from the past is now audible and coming from the man in the driver's seat booming in my eardrums rather than the telepathic vocals just in my brain. His voice is deep and driven, solid and unwavering. I see beyond him in front of me, the airport is ahead. I see a small private jet waiting near the terminal. My eyes get heavy as the throbbing in my frontal lobe becomes unbearable. I fade into the darkness of my mind and my dreams...

I hand the cabby the amount due, plus a little tip for the timely delivery at the airport. He thanks me as we get out of the car. I take the backpack from its position on my lap and throw it over my shoulders getting my other arm in and tightening down the slack in the straps. I take my little girl's hand and we go inside. The traffic within isn't as overwhelming as I'd expected. We go to the first ticket counter available with a jet service to Europe availability. As we approach the counter, I feel the tension from the lady behind the check-in counter. I'm going to have to take this one delicately as to not raise suspicions. A single man with a little girl rushing off to Europe, that doesn't look good looking from the outside in. I calmly approach the counter with Brielle hanging at my side.

"Hello there," I say as I near the woman at the counter. Her light brown hair is perfectly pulled back into a tight bun. Her make-up is delicately applied as to not be overwhelming to the eyes. Her uniform is perfect.

"How may I help you, Sir?" She asks assertively, but with a bit of customer service finesse.

"Are there any jet flights available to Paris for today?" I ask her, pleading but not desperate. She begins plugging away at her computer.

"I do have a flight for this evening, Sir. But there are not jet services available today." She looks up at me with a false look of apology. "Will that be alright?" I contemplate the arrangements. It seems as though it's our only option and I decide to take it. I reach into my wallet and take out one of the credit cards and our passports so I have them ready before she gets a chance to ask. She continues to type on her keyboard, reaches up to the counter where I had set the credit card, spins it around, looks at it, and takes it into her hand.

She places the card on a holder near her keyboard so she can type in the numbers and then places it back onto the counter after it goes through. "Do have any luggage to check, Sir?" She asks me. I tell her no, just the carry-on. She gives me a look with a cocked eyebrow.

"I find it easier to fly this way. I've mailed my luggage to Paris already. It saves a lot of time." I explain to her out of obligation from the suspicious look she shot me. Her eyebrow returns to its normal position. I've been successful at answering her questions. The tickets and itinerary print, she slides them into the logoed envelope from the lower counter, her work space. She hands them to me and I gather them up. I thank her and we walk away. Now it's time to work our way through the airport security and all the fun that it entails.

We walk through the first security gate and, of course, remove our shoes upon request. I know it's a necessary step, but that doesn't alleviate the fact that it's really annoying to anyone who travels. We sit in the chairs provided in order to replace the shoes onto our feet. After replacing the backpack, I don't bother to take it off as I tie my shoes. I take Brielle's hand and we continue our way through the concourse to Terminal 2, Gate 6 from Orlando to Newark to Paris. The flight information continuously repeats itself in my head so I don't forget where we're going. At this point there is no hurry; we've got hours before our flight departs to Newark. As soon as I locate our gate and assess the situation with security, so I'll know about how long it's going to take to gain access to the gated area, we search for a place to eat. I know that Brielle has to be starving by now. Are you ready to eat? I ask her. She looks up at me and nods her little head. We find the nearest place from the gate and sit. We waste the few hours until returning to the gate for check-in and departure by wandering the nearby bookstore. We grab some beverages and a couple of snacks for later and go back. We find a place to wait near the gate in the chairs.

****

I awaken again and look around. My head hurts. I pull it away from the wall of the small plane; the window shade is open next to me. All I can see are the clouds below, they create a sea of fluffy whiteness that seems to be a buildings length below. The shadow of the air vehicle plays off the waves of the clouds as it soars above them. I begin to look around the cabin. I feel drugged. I should be freaking out right now, but I can't do it. I'm so weak. My head is throbbing. My body seems foreign to me, as though it's not my own. My arms aren't cooperating and my legs are tingly and immobile. Ben, where are you?! I call out to him mentally. The pain in my head becomes more intense as I project my request to my son.

"Bennett is fine, Mrs. Hudson, you don't need to worry about him." I see the man sitting in the seat on the other side of the aisle from me. The man with the dark hair, sunken eyes, and a gnarled smirk stares at me from his chair.

"What..." I want to yell the question, but am caught with a pain in my dry throat and begin to cough a bit. I regain my breath and try again. "What have you done with my son?" I deliver the question with less spunk and it makes me sound like I'm pleading. My spunk is gone. The pain in my entire body is too overwhelming to be my usual quirky girly self.

"He's sleeping in one of the seats near the front of the jet." He gets up from his seat with a bottle of water in his hand. The cap is already removed and a bendy straw comes from the top. It looks absolutely delicious! He crosses over to me and places the straw near my lips. I am so dry that I don't hesitate in taking a drink from it. I sip and sip on the straw as the water level disappears from the clear plastic bottle. I stop when the bottle is nearly gone. As I draw back from the sipping apparatus, I take a huge relieved intake of breath. I hadn't realized how badly I'd need that until just now. The man pulls the bottle away and sits down in the seat next to me placing the container into the cup holder built into the arm rest.

"We haven't been formally introduced. My name is Derrick." He takes my numb hand into his and pulls it to his lips. He gives the back of it a peck as though he's a gentleman who had a wonderful first date and would like to keep it that way. I can't resist, I have no control of my extremities. I am disgusted and spit on him. Unlucky for him, he gave me water otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to muster up enough moisture to accomplish it. He closes his eyes immediately upon impact. He then reaches into his shirt pocket to pull out a napkin. Apparently he had been expecting something like this happening. He wipes the drool off his forehead and reopens his eyes. "I understand your anger, Sarah, but you might as well just give in. There is no way you're going to win this battle. Not this time." His voice is strong and rough, there is no breakage or wavering in anger or worry.

"With Daniel, you and Brandon got lucky. He was weak. As a member of the Society, we would like to say thank you. You two took care of our garbage so we didn't have to." His eyes maintained a steady stare at me. "You and Brandon are very strong, stronger than any that have ever lived before. Now you have twins! Twins! Are you kidding me?! What luck! All we had to do was wait long enough. To make things even easier, you're ill, you're weak!" He began his ranting as he stands next to my seat, his hands resting on the chair in front of and next to me. With every exclamation, his hands slap down on the leather of the seats. He begins to chuckle deeply. This guy isn't sane, the laughter of a madman. "You're right! I'm not sane! I'm crazy with excitement to get BOTH of your children and train them for the Society to get what they want!" I am enraged at the thought. I'm going to try again, he can't have my kids! He can't have me! I dig deep within. I feel the heat flow from my tingling toes. My arms become mine as I push my body from the seat of the plane. My eyes stay fixed on his. I take a step toward him as he backs away. The fire is burning within my stomach now. His eyes fill with blackness. Beth! Get in here! I hear his request. The front cabin door opens. As the dark haired beauty takes a couple of steps into the area, her once dark brown eyes, fill with oil. Her eyes become like his. The pain comes back. My body turns cold and empty. The numbness returns to my extremities. My vision begins to fade as I topple forward into the seat's armrest directly in front of me. The light colored wood gets closer and closer and closer...black.

****

Even though we're in the first class seating, it's not that comfortable. I think it's because of the uneasy feeling in my gut. I miss my darling Sarah so much it hurts. Brielle is curled up in the chair next to me. Her belly is full and, with the excitement of the day's events, she's exhausted, so am I. I ask the flight attendant for a drink in passing. She obliges and goes to the back to retrieve my request. I need a nightcap of some sort or I'll never be able to sleep. She brings me my beverage and I slam it down greedily after she departs. The heat of the alcohol flows into my bloodstream and makes its way into my brain, warming my head. It takes a few moments for the booze to hit me fully, but once it does, I'm off to dreamland.

The pebbles about the cobblestones crunch as I walk. The wind blows off the water from the river next to me sending a mist of moisture flashing across my face. The lights from above reflect off the water, the ripples make them sparkle brilliantly. Daddy, he's coming. I realize that I'm holding Brielle's hand and she's walking next to me. I look up to see the beauty of the Eiffel Tower and its wonderful night lighting against the skyline. I bring my vision down in the direction of the stone bridge for traffic to pass over the river. From underneath the bridge, a shadow emerges. It's him, the intruder. He continues walking toward me. I push Brielle behind me, out of his view. I begin to be able to make out his face. His dark features, his deep brown eyes with sunken blackness. His longer hair wavers with the wind from the water. There is a glimmer in his eyes and a sinister smirk washes over half of his face. A glittery flash from the water mist sparkles dully from the reflection of the streetlamp behind me. I believe you're here for something? He asks me mentally, sarcastically. Bennett steps out from behind him with a blank look on his face. DADDY! Brielle screams from behind me...

I jump in my seat and immediately check the chair next to me. She's still right next to me, asleep. A sweat drop falls from my brow. I grab the napkin from underneath my nightcap glass and dab the beads from my head.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" The flight attendant snuck up on me from behind and made me jump again in surprise.

"I'm fine, thanks, just a bad dream." She flashes a quick stuffy smile and collects my glass with the sweaty napkin I've pushed inside it. She wasn't really looking for a response; she was just doing her job by acting as though she cared. I look out the window. By the sight out the window and the angle of the plane, I'd say that we are on our decent into Newark. This is the longest flight ever! I feel like we've been on this plane forever and we've still got to tackle the overseas flight to Paris. The lights from the city below shimmer and sparkle in the night landscape as we near it. I reach over and buckle Brielle's belt in preparation for the landing. My dream must have interrupted the pilot's announcement of preparation for landing. She stirs a bit with the gentle tightening of the seatbelt.

"It's okay sweetie." I tell her as I place my hand upon her golden locks. "You might want to walk up though. We're getting ready to land." She begins to rustle a bit more and stretches in her seat. She lets out a yawn and a grown as she inhales.

"Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom." I get up and out of her way so she can get out. I tell her to use the one located a few seats from us so I can ensure that she'll be alright and that she'll have to hurry because we're going to land soon. I watch as she walks up the aisle and into the lavatory. My eyes don't leave their fixation on the door as I wait for her to come out. As the latch moves and the occupied light goes off from above, I breathe a sigh of relief. She smiles at me while she strolls back to the seat. Knowing that she's feeling that everything is going to be okay is a bit discomforting. Maybe I doubt her abilities too much? Maybe I don't understand how far the levels of her powers really extend to? I don't have the answers and I honestly should, as a father, know these things. Daddy, everything is going to be fine. I told you. Don't worry. She's been eavesdropping.

"That's not fair." I smile at her as I let her back in her seat. She sets in and buckles her belt. I cinch it down for her. She spaces out the window watching the ground get closer as we near landing. I take a breath and sit, waiting for the airplane's touchdown.

****

The morning sun begins to flash in through the front window of the vehicle. My body still aches so badly. My head hurts even worse than it did the last time I woke up. I can only see out of one of my eyes. I try to catch a glimpse of my face in the rearview mirror to the right Derrick who's driving. A white bandage with surgical tape is affixed to the left side of my face. The cloth is soaked with dried blood concentrated mostly in the area of my left eyebrow. I must have hit that armrest hard. The throbbing flows into every section of my head and into my neck. The tingling resonates throughout my body. I don't even have to look to my right to see her, Beth, staring me down. She's using her power to keep me subdued. I'm not going to fight it anymore. My body hurts way too much to continue going on like this. I need to save my energy and wait for them to be apart.

"Good luck with that, my dear." Derrick has been listening. He chuckles in his superiority. He's got the upper-hand at the moment and he knows it. Without Brandon, I can't begin to fight this battle.

"You've got that right sweetie." I stop thinking about it with the constant invasion and decide to observe the happenings outside of the vehicle. The architecture is fantastic! It's almost immediately apparent as to where we are, Paris. I've been here as a teenager. It was a gift from my grandmother for the summer upon graduating from high school and before starting college. My grandmother was so good to me. Just another thing that Brandon and I have in common. She was talented like Brandon and I are. She was so good to me, spoiled me rotten. I didn't know about her powers until I was older. She'd gone away one day and I never saw her again. I miss her dearly. I catch a glimpse of a street sign as we are driving 'Boulevard Saint-Michel'. The cars are everywhere; the bustle of this city is so intense. The beautiful randomly scattered statues always amaze me. We turn again 'Rue Auguste Cornet' and again into the Jardin du Luxembourg. The vast garden is so beautifully decorated. The landscape is breath taking. The flowers are everywhere and perfect. The lawn seems to go on forever. We pass the Statue of Saint-Genevieve, the patroness of Paris, too bad she can't save me from my captures. We pass the Fontaine de Medicis, the beauty in the details is amazing. The blue of the sculptures against the water with the pale cement accenting them is glorious. I look up ahead, the Palais du Luxembourg lies ahead, it is enormous, bigger than any building that I've ever been. We go around to the back of the building. A gate opens slowly for the vehicle to pass into. The black cast iron shakes and shutters on its hinges and it clangs as its mouth becomes agape to ingest its prey. The points at the top of the ten foot fencing remind me of teeth. One slip and you're impaled forever. Derrick drives the car inside. The iron clanks shut behind us. It's time for you to go back to sleep, Sarah. It's the voice of Beth invading my mind this time. We don't want any more trouble from you, not yet anyway. My only useful eyelid becomes heavy and the darkness gets the better of me again.

****

Our wait in Newark is minimal, before we know it; we're back in the air. This time I'm hoping to get some quality sleep uninterrupted from the dream that's haunted me for so many months. We're in first class with Brielle assuming her position of protection from anyone around us, near the window. Her grogginess hadn't worn off from the last time and she's soon dozing off in the seat next to me. That's my cue to try and do the same so I follow her lead. I make my shifting in my seat and recline back enough to get as comfortable as possible. I drift off.

I wake up to Brielle eating a breakfast of sausage links, mini pancakes, and scrambled eggs with a side of fruit. She also has a glass filled with orange juice next to her plastic platter of food.

"Good morning, Daddy," she says to me in mid-chew. My eyes still cloudy from the sleep, I notice the sun shining fully through the window.

"Good morning, honey," I respond groggily. My throat is so dry. I feel her set her hand on the back of my seat as she asks me the ultimate question.

"Sir, would you care for some breakfast? I saved a tray for you." I partially turn to look up at her to answer.

"Yes, please, but could you give me a moment, I need to use the lavatory?" She nods and dismisses herself to the back to retrieve my food as I get up to use the bathroom. I go in to use the bathroom, look in the mirror for a second after washing my hands, and splash a little water on my face and hair. I dry off and return to my seat, Brie is still eating contently. My food has been placed on my tray ready for consumption. The orange juice is the most inviting glass of fluid that I've ever laid my eyes on. I carefully sit down as to avoid spilling the fold out table all over the floor of the plane. I successfully maneuver my way into my seat and immediately begin to gulp down the juice. Canned, frozen, it didn't matter; it was delicious and quenched my thirst perfectly. I arm myself with some silverware and begin to join my daughter in the enjoyment of the meal. The pilot makes the announcement before the stewardess can return and grab our platters. We finish up our meals just as she comes to our seats and requests are trash. We have begun our decent into Paris, France. Are you here yet, Brandon? The voice comes to me just like before. I know you are getting closer, I can feel it. Meet me by the River Seine on the walk in front of the Musee de l'Orangerie tonight at 11 p.m. if you want to see your precious wife and son again. As quickly as it came, it was gone. At least I know where to find them now. Brielle looks up at me from her seat. I told you we'll get them back, Daddy. I glance back at her and smile. We are on our final decent into the airport.

****

I awaken on a bed, all alone. The pain is gone besides the one where I hit my head in the plane. I sit up quickly. Finally being able to move makes me feel like I'm feather-light. I plant my feet on the cold cement floor, barefoot and uncomfortable. My hands touching the mattress, it's thin, vinyl and unsuitable. The surrounding room is cement and plain. There is a small toilet and a sink with a metal reflective mirror. I'm in a cell. There is a door without a handle which is also cement. All I can see is the outline of it from in here. A rectangular food tray slot is the only thing remotely close to an outside connection. A plate waits there for me. At least my captures aren't planning on starving me to death. I get to my feet and go over to the slot, scooping up the tray hastily. I'm starving. I think the last time I've eaten was at the restaurant two days ago. I go back over to the bed and sit, placing the tray on my lap. My meal consists of a chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and some green beans. I don't care at this point. I just eat, barely tasting it as I do. I don't know what they want with me or where Bennett is, but I also know that I can't do anything without some help. I'm too weak to go up against Derrick and Beth, the evil duo, by myself.

"Is everything to your liking, Mrs. Hudson?" I hadn't noticed the speaker box in the wall next to the bed.

"Are you serious?!" I yell in response. "Where's Bennett?!"

"Don't get yourself all worked up, Sarah. Your son is fine. We wouldn't do anything to harm him. You just need to behave yourself and everything will be fine." I can feel my face as it begins to heat up in anger. I remove the tray from my lap and place it on the bed next to me. I stand up as the fire from my body keeps the coolness of the floor from bothering me at all. I begin to gather all the power that I can from my stomach and let it flow into my head. I near the door. As soon as I'm within a couple of feet, I throw my force wholly at the outline. It doesn't budge. I try again. Nothing happens. My head begins to spin as I wobble back to the bed to sit. Something wet flows down onto my lip making it tickle. I reach up to scratch it. As I pull my hand away I notice the blood on my fingers. I pull the pillowcase from the pillow and use it to stop the blood. I place the food tray on the floor and lay back onto the bed. I fall back to sleep with the corner of the sheet inserted partially into my nostril.

****

We get into one of the taxi cabs just outside the airport in Paris. Since my French is nonexistent, I tell the driver in broken English 'hotel...near...the Musee de l'Orangerie' remembering the voice's pronunciation from the plane I don't sound like a total ass when I say the name. He acknowledges and takes off like a bat out of hell. Hopefully I got my translation close enough that we don't end up on the opposite side of the city. Brielle and I are both in awe of scenery and surroundings. Paris is as beautiful as I've always heard that it is. The buildings, the statues, even the roads are amazing. I don't think my mouth closed until we got to the hotel where it probably fell open even more at the sight of it. 'De Crillon Hotel' is what the sign reads. I don't know what it means, but this place is amazing! The pillars in the front of the building extend from the ground to nearly the roof. It's almost heavenly! The details of the outside are unlike that of anything I've ever seen in the United States. I break my trance long enough to slip the cab driver some Euros that I had converted over in the airport once we'd arrived in country. He thanks me and we get out of the vehicle. I'm trying hard to keep my mouth from dropping open again, but am having a difficult time with it. The statues on the rooftop are huge and greatly detailed, a French flag flies from the tip of the roof. We cross the street and go into the building. The inside is just as immaculate as the exterior. Huge chandeliers hang from the ceiling; their crystals reflect the light brilliantly. The granite checkered floor is shiny and well-polished. There are pillars inside as well made of, what looks to be, a type of marble. We are really underdressed and need to go find some other clothing before tonight's meeting. First we will check in and hit one of the nearby shops so we can get cleaned up. We approach the lobby reception desk and are greeted with a scoffing, snooty Frenchman. It's very stereotypical by the American assumptions, but understanding at the same time considering our attire. He speaks to me in English, apparently this hotel is frequented by Americans enough that he's found it necessary, which is welcoming. He explains that the hotel room will cost six hundred and seventy-five American dollars a night. I tell him ok and reach into my wallet for a credit card to charge the room. He gives me a look of surprise as he accepts my card. As soon as the transaction is complete, he hands me the room card key and my credit card with a 'thank you, Monsieur.' I give him a 'merci beaucoup' which is about all the French I know. If I attempt any more, I'm sure I'll embarrass myself. We go to the elevator to the third floor so I can drop my backpack. We'll wash up a bit prior to going out to grab some clothing.

We get our stuff together and go out to get some attire more suitable for the area of Paris in which we are located. It seems to be most visited by upscale tourists and we are totally out of place at the moment. We leave the hotel. The air is so much different from the Floridian atmosphere we just came from. It's cool, but not cold. It's nice and comfortable. Even though we're wearing shorts and t-shirts, we'll survive. We walk to the Rue Royale by taking a left from the hotel and continue further to Boulevard Malesherbes. It feels like we're walking forever, but we find a small boutique with an assortment of expensive clothing for anyone in the family. We go inside and find an outfit for Brielle first. She's not picky so it doesn't take long. Mine is still easier to find. We get a couple of nice shirts and shorts, socks, underwear, and a change of shoes for each of us, still touristy but not the same clothing we're wearing right now. I pay for the clothing before retracing our steps. I wasn't going to venture off path because I have no idea where I am and am not looking to explore at the moment. We stop at a tourist shop chalked full of maps, postcards, and the typical things that the non-locals love to buy. All I need is a map. I need to plan my travels for tonight. I find one, pay for it, and we return to the hotel. When we get back to the room, I have Brielle use the bathroom first. I run her bath water as she sits on the toilet waiting for me to leave the room. I give her a bit of bubbles using the shampoo provided by the hotel. I grab her towel to put it within reach and place her newly tag relieved clothing in a neat pile on the countertop next to the sink. I leave the room, giving her the privacy she needs. We've got a few more hours until I get to meet the abductor of my wife and son. I'm nervous but excited at the same time. I lay down on the bed while I wait for Brielle to finish in the bath in order to clear my head. The bed is lush and comfortable, it better be since it's a five-star hotel in one of the most upscale neighborhoods in Paris. The room is just as perfect as the rest of the hotel. I can hear the little girl in the bathroom splashing around and singing a soft tune. I wonder if she knows that I'm listening to her song as she hums it quietly. I can hear you too, Daddy. I hear her giggle aloud from inside the bathroom, the echo from the vastness of the room makes it more audible. I smile to myself as I lie on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. What a talented little one. I doze off long enough to be awoken by a little voice and a shake.

"Daddy, I want you to see my new outfit. How does it look?" I rise up in the bed and look at her. She's so adorable. Her new clothes fit her perfectly. Not bad for a dad picking it out. I'm proud of myself successful choice in outfits.

"It's adorable, honey." She shoots me a smile as I get off of the bed. "You can watch some television while I take a quick shower if you want, but I'm pretty sure everything will be in French if that's ok? And do not, under any circumstances, open that door to anyone. Come and get me if there is any knocking. Ok?" She nods. I go over to the door and double lock the latches, first the deadbolt and then the slide lock. She finds a chair and turns on the television beginning to flip slowly. I am satisfied that everything will be alright so I go into the bathroom and take a quick shower. I start the water and test it with my hand. Once I'm happy with the temperature, I get undressed and hop in. The warm water feels so good on my tired body. I stand there as the minutes go by letting the liquid flow over my head, face, and body. I lean forward a bit so the stream focuses on the back of my neck where the spine meets the skull. The heat on my neck helps me to relax and push off a lingering headache. Okay, I snap out of it and begin to wash. Once I'm finished and rinsed, I turn the water off, get out, dry off, and get dressed. The entire time I'm listening to the French cartoon Sponge Bob laughing and carrying on in the other room. Random giggles, following a foreign joke, are coming from the little girl sitting in the chair. We will be a family again in about an hour. As soon as I leave the bathroom, we get our new shoes on and leave the hotel.

****

I wake up with the bloodstained sheet still lodged partially in my nostril. I reach up and take it out with my right hand. I pull it down and let it drop to the floor off the side of the bed. I move my hand back up to my eye to remove the bandage. I can't handle only seeing from one eye anymore and might be able to actually see without it covering. My forehead still hurts a little. I reach for the edge of the bandage around the tape. I begin to pull, the adhesive sticks and is a bit uncomfortable as I tear it from my skin. My face stretches as the tape lets go. I get to the last of the tape and rip it from its location quickly. The last quick tear frees it. I sit up after dropping the bandage to the floor, joining its other bloody mate on the cold cement. I sit up and swing my feet to the floor, stepping partially on the sheet. I take a look around the boring room and notice the food tray slot is now closed and my tray of food remains is missing. Someone had apparently snuck in and cleaned my room while I was passed out. I wish they'd get on with whatever it is they are planning because I'm getting really bored. I realize I really need to pee. I don't remember the last time I'd gone to the bathroom. I go over to the toilet and prepare myself. As I sit down I can't help but think how much the toilet seat's temperature matches that of the floor. The goose bumps spread throughout my body.

****

We begin our walk to the designated meeting place. The lights from the city are dressing the skyline. The clouds above trap the illumination. Statues on the surrounding buildings and standalones are lit perfectly. They are much more noticeable at night and are even more glorious. We take an immediate right from the hotel and are walking down Vole Georges Pompidou as I constantly check my tourist map of the city I'd purchased from the shop earlier in the evening. I orient the piece of paper as we stroll along the rue. The city is still bustling, possibly more now than it was earlier today when the sun still shown. Safety in numbers makes me feel a little better about the situation, but it also creates a level of discomfort. When I do have to use my powers, others shouldn't be around to witness them. Lord only knows what will happen if an average human being sees me in action. It's not that I couldn't get away or protect myself, but since I've grown up I've made it a habit to keep these things as quiet as possible. The last thing I want to do is get into a fight with the French police in downtown Paris. We turn to the left, we need to pass the Jardin des Tuileries and then find a path down to the River Seine. Blocks and blocks wear at our feet. Brielle's not complaining. She's quiet the entire time. She's probably listening to my thoughts as we walk. I look down at her, she smiles up at me. My nerves are getting the better of me as we get closer to our destination. I would've left her behind, but I think that's what they'd want me to do. I don't know the extent of my enemy's powers. The way he's been tracking us throughout the years, he has his ways in finding us. There are different levels of abilities with people like us. I learn something new about my own all the time, not daily, but often. We pass the garden to the left and I begin to look to the right toward the river in order to find a set of stairs to get to the path next to the Seine. I find one just across the street. We cross over the asphalt of the road through the traffic. The steps are a bit steep so I hold Brielle's hand tightly in case of an accidental slip on the way down so I can catch her quickly. We get to the landing without incident and begin walking to the right, next to the river. I take a look at my watch. It says 10:55 p.m. We continue walking as everything starts to become eerily familiar to my senses. The pebbles in the gray cobblestones crunch under the soles of my new shoes. Several feet from us, there is a boat floating in the middle of the River Seine where the French, drunken people are being obnoxiously loud. I don't understand them and, right now, I don't care what they are saying. We continue down the trail beside the river. I notice the lights flickering off the ripples on the water. My eyes go upward. I already know what I'm going to see in my view. The Eiffel Tower glows in all its beauty, high above the city in which it governs. The lights are white, perfect, and wonderful. I can't enjoy the moment as much as I'd like to because I know what's going to happen next. The crunching continues with our footsteps. I'm afraid to look, but know that it doesn't matter if I do or if I don't, it's still going to happen. The knots in my stomach become tighter and near painful. Anticipation and nerves are taking over my body. The mists from the water and wind combination leave their sprinklings on my face. I squeeze Brielle's hand tighter and lower my line of sight to the bridge. The shadow is emerging from beneath it. He's as dark as I remember from the dreams of the past. His long dark coat wings behind him with his strides. I tuck Brielle behind me with one arm. She lets her curiosity subside and obeys. I block her from his view as we stop moving toward the approaching figure. He nears me; I see the glitter from the moisture on his face shining, reflecting from the lights behind me.

"Hello, Brandon." He announces. Now the déjà vu is gone. Maybe things will be different than what I'd envisioned. "It's nice to finally meet the legendary Mr. Hudson."

"Where are my wife and son?!" I ask him. I don't care about pleasantries or introductions. I just want my family back. He reaches behind his back with his left hand. I brace myself for an attack. As his arm returns to the front, Bennett steps out from behind him. His face is blank and pale. "Ben!" I yell and try to step forward to grab him from the dark stranger. I am frozen by something unseen.

"Daddy!" The voice isn't from Bennett, it comes from behind. I try to spin toward Brielle but only get about halfway. I turn my head the remaining bit to see a woman just as dark as the man grabbing my little girl. Her eyes are as dark as the night as her hand containing a cloth goes over Brielle's mouth and nose. Brielle's eyes roll up into her head showing only the whites.

"NOOOOOOOO!" I yell. A force comes from the woman as my body gets pushed back; I try to fight it, but am not successful. I'm turned back to face the man unwillingly. His eyes are as full of blackness like my 'grandfather's' during his craziest moments. Bennett stands motionless beside him looking straight ahead. I dig deep within my being searching for my power. I grab hold of it and pull it to the surface. The heat flows freely within my torso. It builds like a bonfire. The embers burn fiercely. My hands begin to glow in the night, my whole body lights like a flickering candle.

"Oh, no, you don't, Mr. Hudson." The pain comes. It hits me in the face like a cinderblock. Right between the eyes, the nail hits its mark, through my brain. My eyes flood violently blurring my vision in the waterfall. I feel my body lift from the ground slowly. My arms glued at my sides, my legs straight as a board. The pain is excruciating and tearing at my entire being.

"Remember what you did to Daniel?! Do you remember?! Well, now it's your turn, Brandon! Die with the pain that you inflicted! History has a way of repeating itself, I'm proof of that!" I rise off the ground further. I can't see what's happening through my tears of pain. All I can do is feel the pain. I feel cold hands touch my hand from the right.

"We'll take care of your precious gifted ones, Brandon." It's the voice of a woman, just a few feet from my ear. "Now die!" She hisses. The shot from the telekinetic force hits me in the side of the temple like a baseball bat into my skull. My body flies through the air and splashes into the cold water. I sink gently into my watery tomb as the air bubbles escape my lungs. The lights from above begin to fade as I float downward further and further.

****

The witches' screams from the stake burn the ears of the bystanders. The highness of the pitch is intense and should only be heard by mongrels. Their hands go to their ears as the fluids begin to flow from their eardrums. The fire below blows violently from the logs. The charred wood, once well-lit, is nearly out. Bodies on knees, people on the ground. As their ears bleed, their growls confirm the pain. Scarlet's eyes are full of shadow. With the last breath taken by the bystanders, she stops screaming like a banshee. The bodies scatter the surrounding ground like lawn ornaments. The fire is gone from below. The ropes securing her to the wooden pole drop from her bosom as she steps to the ground smoothly. There is no stumbling or falling as she walks from the pile of wood below. She is a woman of beauty and grace who uses her powers to their utmost ability. She is powerful and will not be messed with. A nearby lantern flickers gently in the tiny breeze. The wind begins to blow more violently. It starts out slowly, making the flame bigger, fueled by the oxygen-filled air. The wind begins to blow harder pushing the flare toward a pile of nearby dry straw. It ignites with a gust. The bale explodes in flames. The reddish-orange glow becomes a smoky bonfire. It continues to grow and moves on to a nearby building. Soon the entire town is engulfed in the flames. Everything is destroyed. Scarlet looks upon the disaster she's created with satisfaction from a nearby hill. Her eyes have returned to their beautiful deep chocolate brown. Her dark brown hair streams in the gentle breeze as it flows through the valley below. A scarlet red dress covers her once ragged cloth-ridden body. The smoke from the old burning wood, plant-life, and bodies gathers above the village as the fire uses the fuel to its fullest. The villagers' livestock now roam the valley freely. Nobody survives to tend to them. She turns away from her creation and begins to walk down the hill and into the forest in search of the next nearby village to hide and hopefully, live a normal life.

****

"Sarah." The voice from the intercom comes to me again. I've been a good girl by not trying to escape. I'm saving that for another time. I need to keep up my strength in order to get out of this place. I've been allowed to talk to Bennett and Brielle so Derrick and Beth can ensure they'll get no trouble from me knowing that my babies are safe.

"What do you want?" I ask the man behind the microphone.

"We need you to talk to Brielle for us." My forehead wrinkles in confusion.

"What would make you think that I'd talk to her for you?!" What a ridiculous request. "What are you doing with them?" I ask.

"We're training them, Sarah. Remember how you were trained when you were a child?" I hadn't remembered the events until recently. I think the cell brought back some horrid memories from my childhood. The Society brought me to Paris when I was young. I'm sure that my grandmother had something to do with it. They weren't sure if I'd had abilities at the time, but it didn't take long for them to figure out that I had them. I didn't even know until I'd been pushed to the limits, that was the trigger. It's amazing what things we suppress from our childhood. We hear about adults in their thirties and forties realizing that they'd been through something traumatic as kids. They don't remember it for so long that it's almost like it was a dream. That's how it came to me. I thought everything that'd happened was just some dream from when I was a kid. Not anymore. I know that all of it was real. I wasn't introduced to the Society officially until after I'd returned from college. It feels like I've been here for weeks. I know my children are okay, but they haven't told me anything about Brandon, my perfectly talented husband. They got Brielle from him somehow. Tears hit me suddenly and start coursing down my face. I hold my head in my hands as the salty wetness goes between my fingers.

"Don't cry, dear." The 'dear' is condescending. I'd forgotten about the question he'd asked. "Will you talk to Brielle? She's not cooperating and it's making it difficult to teach her properly." I wipe my tears but they keep coming. All my hope is lost. I have to do something. I've been in here for so long. Days have become nights. My skin is pale from the lack of sun.

"I'll do it." I agree to talk to her. They never let me speak to them. I don't get to speak with Bennett much since they took us. He mumbled something to me once in the intercom a long time ago. They made him so I'd know that he was alright and so I'd stop giving them problems. I haven't stopped, but it hurts too badly when I try so it's been far and few between in use of my power. I talk to Brielle for them. I tell her to be good and do what she's told. I know what the Society can do to you. They have their ways. I tell her that I love her and I don't get to talk to her for a long time after that.

****

Daniel's laughter frustrates me as I'm trying to work through the difficulty of the move. The barrel moves a bit, but won't do what I want it to do. I tip it over. The anger builds up more within me. He tells me to focus, but I can't. The Voice comes to me. I don't notice his eyes as he stares into my brain. The scene fades to the barn at my grandparents' house on that cold Christmas Eve. I am standing on the steps looking out into the cold, icy winter night. The footprints from when he'd left earlier that day have partially filled in with the drifting snow. The cold wind stings my hands and burns my eyes to tears. A droplet escapes my duct and begins to flow downward. It freezes to my cheek. I bury my head into the neck of my winter jacket to protect it from the bitter winter winds. I follow the shadows of the tracks illuminated by the large yard light located on the pole above. The snow falls into my shoes a bit to remind me more of where I am. Wearing tennis shoes in the winter time as a stubborn teenager does because it's not cool to sport snow boots. I get near the barn door; hear a crash and a flashing bulb from inside. I go inside despite the exterior warning. It's dark. I see him standing at the far end of the barn. He curses at me as I turn on the light. Daniel's face flashes before my eyes in place of my grandfather's and then fades away. We have our mental battle. As the blood flows from his mouth and he breathes his last breath, Daniel screams loudly in my head. You two will never win! You can't beat me! He's standing before us as the wind creates a whirl of dust and debris, swirling violently. Our hair being beaten back and forth with the currents, Sarah's ebon locks thrash in her face. Our eyes fill with blackness and Daniel curses at us in pain. Shards of wood fly about dangerously. They miss us as they soar outside the vortex that we're creating and slam into and through the sheet metal of the building. Daniel's body lifts into the air, his eyeballs bulging from his head. The gurgling from his body fluids exiting through his mouth fill my eardrums as he parishes at our hands.

****

I can't do it, Beth." I respond angry and frustrated. The years have passed since I've been able to talk to my mother and since my father died. I'm doing all I can to keep the Society happy. My life has been threatened so many times that I've lost count. I've been put into a catatonic state because of disobedience through Beth's abilities. She has amazing gifts. The Society has taught me much over the years. I've been privately tutored here in the mansion. They've sped my education to a near college level. The Society has its own private section of the mansion on the Jardin du Luxembourg's grounds. They don't let me go out alone yet. They don't trust me and with good reason. I've been rebelling against them since day one but, sick of being punished, I've decided to just make them happy. As a fifteen year old girl, I would like to be able to go out eventually. I've only seen Bennett but in passing here and there. When I've seen him, there seems to be nothing there. It's like he's a shell of a person. I don't know what they've done to him, but I don't want the same thing to happen to me. I'll be cooperative. I'll learn what I can while I can. They say they want to help me to become the best that I can be.

They've gotten me all of the most beautiful clothes. I pretty much get anything I want, as long as I'm good and do what they say. Beth wants me to kill the man sitting across the room. He is blindfolded and has duct tape over his mouth. The sweat is beading from his forehead and he's squirming in the wooden chair he's tied to. His hands are secure behind the backing of the seat. His legs are secured at the ankles to the legs of the chair, just below the leg support cross beams.

"I can't do it." I tell her again. I'm sure I can do it, but I don't want to do it. This man hasn't done anything to me. How can she expect me to harm a person like this poor old man?

"Brielle, you can and you will." She says calmly to me as if it should be an easy task to just take someone's life for no reason. "All you have to do is pretend this guy is coming at you with a knife or he has a gun, he's going to kill you. It's not that hard." Beth is a crazy weapon of a woman. The Society chose this assassin well. She's a ruthless, heartless bitch. I will give her one thing though, she's trained me well. I can block out anyone's mind attempts to read my mind and tap into anyone's thoughts whenever I choose to. My mother and father taught me, in my short time with them, that our gifts are just that, gifts. We don't use them for selfish reasons or for destruction. We use them when we need to, when they are absolutely necessary for survival.

"I can't. I'm too tired." I fake a yawn and start to walk away. "I'm going to my room to finish my homework." I toss a wave over my shoulder with my back turned to her. "Ta Ta for now." I'm such a smartass. Beth won't do anything for something as minor as what I'd just done. A couple of years ago I'd tried to escape and got as far as the back door. Beth caught me and froze me with her mind. That is the worst feeling in the world, that feeling of helplessness. Then she proceeded to squeeze my brain with her telekinesis. She did it just hard enough to make me feel like I was going to die. My eyes fluttered and flicked back into my head. It hurt more than anything I've ever felt before. Another reason to behave myself until the time is right.

I walk up the stairs back to my room. I open the door. The room is decorated just the way I like it, in a retro décor. The obnoxious colors make me crazy and excited at the same time. If I'm not allowed to leave the mansion by myself, I'm going to live a little inside, in my own way and style. I sit down at my vanity for a moment. I play with my long, curly blonde hair. It's a really light blonde, not platinum, just regular. My sky blue eyes explore my face for any imperfections. My skin is flawless. I've probably had two pimples in my whole life. I use a minimal amount of make-up. Mom always wore the bare essentials and I know why. Natural beauty is one of the traits from my mother. She was so gorgeous and so was my father. I miss them so much. Tears fill my eyes as I put my head down onto my folded arms. I let them flow freely, reaching onto the vanity desk to pull a tissue free from the confines of the box. I've assumed this position a lot through the years. I can't wait for the day when I can do something to get them back for what they've done, save my mother, and get the hell out of this place.

****

"We watch five-year-old Ben as he moves the ball with his powers. Back and forth, back and forth it goes.

"Practice makes perfect." I tell him from my seat. His face is stone cold. He's ignoring me when I talk. His eyes are solid black as he concentrates on the movement of the object. Brielle sits in the grass between me and Sarah as we watch her brother. The wind begins to pick up as the ball increases in movement. It begins to lift off of the ground. Push harder, Bennett, make it explode! A voice is carried in the breeze and into my head from somewhere unknown. It is a man with a deep harsh voice. It echoes loudly in my brain. Suddenly, the ball blows into bits in midair. The image fades. The yard melts away along with everyone and everything else around me. The scene is replaced with the hotel in Florida, before this nightmare began. I'm in the room with Sarah and Bennett as the man shards the door open with his mind. I'm standing in the children's room doorway. Sarah stares helplessly at the man. Stay still, Ben, we're here to rescue you. Close your eyes. It's the same voice from the yard a few moments ago. Ben obeys as the woman steps into view and Sarah tries to get away from them. Shards from the door's frame hit Sarah in the back of the calf and blood begins to drip from the wound immediately, spackling the carpet. She limps toward the back bedroom. The man follows her from behind. The woman walks slowly behind them smiling. Sarah falls to the ground, her eyes are closed. He scoops her up into his arms and leaves the room. She takes Bennett's hand and they go out the door.

****

I lay in the bed. A few years ago they decided to change out the mattress from the uncomfortable, thin one to a newer model. It was then I knew they were planning on keeping me here for a while. I don't know why they've kept me here. Maybe they think the only way to get the kids to do what they want is by keeping me alive. Brielle would know if I were dead, at least I think she would. I have no idea the extent of her powers at this point. It has been so many years. I get off of the bed to go over to the mirror and look into it. I touch my face. I'm still beautiful, but so pale and old. The stress and longing for my Brandon has taken their toll on my looks. Wrinkles have begun to form in my forehead. I scrunch it upward. They are worry wrinkles. My crows-feet are next to nonexistent. There hasn't been any reason to smile for so long, it's no wonder they aren't there. My hair is dry and unprocessed. The salt and pepper effect has taken on the coloring within my locks. Gray sprinkles are here and there. I go back to the bed to sit down. Depressed. My body is weak. I've been trying to maintain my physical being by jogging in place within my cell, but I have only been able to do so much.

****

I am sitting in my room at my desk when words begin to invade my thoughts. I stop working on my American History report that's due tomorrow. It's nearly finished anyway.

What do you mean he's alive?! I hear Beth's voice in the distance.

Just what I said, he's been in a coma this whole time somewhere in the city. I don't recognize the other person talking to her. I saw it on the news a few days ago. There hasn't been anyone who's come forward to claim him. I guess they've been looking all these years and have been announcing it randomly throughout. My father is alive?! After all these years, he's alive! I continue to listen. I have to figure out a way to save him.

Well, go get him and take him out. He's in a coma. It's not like it'd be that difficult. She sounds angry and frustrated. Do it before Donovan finds out. He'll kill me if he knows that I didn't get the job done right the first time! Donovan is the mastermind behind the Society from what I've gathered in conversations and eavesdropping throughout the years. I've never actually met the man, but they talk about him all the time as though he's some sort of god.

Beth, I don't know where he is. All they gave was a number to call so I did. They won't give me any information over the phone. They want me to meet them at the police station before even beginning to give me anything regarding his whereabouts! He sounds just as frustrated as she does. I hear her scoff followed by a loud door slamming. That's the end of the conversation apparently. Oh my God! My father is still alive and somewhere in Paris! What am I going to do? I have to figure something out. I don't think I'll be doing anymore reports for my Tutor. I slap the textbook shut and drop my pencil so I can think.

****

Water from the river is spraying up onto my face as the wind carries it further from the embankment. The lights around us are brightly shining throughout the city, but the tree cover between the street and the walkway casts a shadow upon us as we walk. I see his shadow approaching us as I tuck Brielle's small body behind mine for protection. The smirk on his face as he talks is creepy and angers me further as the conversation continues. Bennett steps out from behind him. The pain hits me as I float into the air, I am hit, and then splash violently into the water. All is lost to me. The water engulfs my body as I begin my decent to the murky bottom. Unconsciousness begins to take over as all of the oxygen escapes my lungs. I see the underside of a floating vessel approaching from above. The water is cloudy from the blood I'm losing from the wounds in my head. The blackness takes over as my eyes flutter and close. I feel a tug at my shirt collar pulling me to the surface. The hardness of the wood at the bottom of the boat is uncomfortable, but welcoming to my cold wet body. My eyelids flutter to see the beauty of the Eiffel Tower in the distance once last time for a long time to come.

****

As I sit on my bed with my bare feet flat on the floor as I've done many, many times over the years, the door to my cell begins to shutter. I stand and approach it. Over and over again they come to give me food and something to drink. It's the same every time. There is no exchange of words, just looks. It's usually that bitch, Beth, who comes in here. Her eyes are evil and knowing that I can't do anything to her really pisses me off! I get closer to the door. Mom, get back! I know that voice! It sounds much more mature than the last time I heard it, but I know who it is! Get away from the door now! The cement begins to crack and pop as I move away and off to the side. The center of the block breaks at the middle, the seam begins to crawl from the source. The entire door explodes into the room, showering my bed with debris. As the dust sediment settles, I see her standing in the doorway. She's as beautiful as ever. Her glorious golden locks flow from the top of her head and down beyond her shoulders. My angel has found me. Her skin is like porcelain in its perfection. She's a woman now. It's been so long! I run to her and wrap my arms around her as tightly as I can, she returns the embrace.

"I love you so much, Mom," she whispers in my ear. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you." A tear begins to form as she speaks. "I just found out Dad is alive." I gasp at the announcement. All of the energy that I'd been saving over the years is now beginning to spark within me.

"Are you sure?! Where is he? Oh my God, Brandon is alive!" I can't believe the news. Wait! Why hasn't he come for us?! All this time we've been stuck in this hell hole?!

"No, Mom, he's in a coma in a hospital in the city somewhere. They don't know where, but you and I will find him." Her piercing blue eyes look deep into mine. They are so pure and beautiful. "Now, we don't have time to sit here and reminisce, they are going to find out I've broken you out. We have to get you out of here." She grabs my hand in her grown-up one and we take a left out of my cell into a huge bare hallway with metal dome lighting hanging from the ceiling. The bulbs sway as we pass beneath them. We take another left at the end of the hall and come to a set of winding stairs. They are metal and cable suspended. As I step onto them, the dimensions play with my mind and make me a bit dizzy. I've been held up in that cell for so long I've forgotten how to run and decipher the differences in textures in my vision. The tiny holes on the metal steps stare up at me as I watch my feet closely while hurrying as best I can. We get to the top of the stairway. Brielle opens the door. As we step out we walk onto a huge landing. There are stairwells on either side of the door that lead to another landing and then branch off to either side in opposite directions. This place is gigantic! The front door seems to be directly ahead. We haven't gone far, but I can't seem to catch my breath. It's been so long since I've been able to do anything physical.

"Where do you think you're going?!" I reel my head around to see Beth standing on the landing above with her hands planted on the beautifully carved railing.

"Mom, run! I'll take care of this." Brielle pushes me toward the front door as she turns to face Beth. I hear the scuffling behind me as Derrick comes at me from the left.

"Sarah, what are you doing out?" His voice is playfully sadistic. "Did you come out to play?" I don't wait for him to make the first strike. Like I said before, I've been waiting a long time for this. I'm ready. The heat is so intense. I haven't used my powers in so long, but haven't forgotten how. My eyes are consumed as I get close enough to pounce on him. I turn to him. His eyes are as black as soot. I hit him hard in the face before he gets the opportunity to slam me. His nose crushes into his skull and immediately begins to pour blood. It flows violently from his nose onto his lips. I muster up another blast, this time I aim for his brain. I pound it against the back of his skull. "This is for Brandon you son of a bitch!" I scream as his body slams into the hard wood floor. One last exhale escapes his body as his head falls to the side. The fluids pool beneath and form a puddle. I run to the door. Brielle!? I think as I spin around. Bits of railing are scattered along the floor, but the two of them are gone. I have to go back and find her! There is a feeling of panic inside me. Get out of here, Mom! I can take care of myself! Find Dad! I have to find Brandon. Everything is happening so quickly, my brain is in overdrive. I turn back to the door and grab the knob. I open it. The sunshine pours in on me from the afternoon sun. The heat is so wonderful against my clammy skin. I take the steps down to the pebble path leading to the gate at the bottom. The rocks hurt my bare feet, but I don't care, I'm almost free. I run toward the gate and begin to push it open with my mind. It begins to rattle and the hinges begin to bend. A spike of psychic power drives itself into the base of my skull. Beth is standing on the stairs at the doorway with her blackened eyes burying themselves into the back of my head. The blood runs from my nose like a fountain. As my eyes roll back into my head, my lifeless body crashes against the metal of the gate. BRANDON! Is the last thing I can push from my head, before my soul exits my body

****

My eyes jump to life as my echoing name tears through my brain. A tear rolls down onto my pillow. Where the hell am I? I can't move because my muscles are too weak. My eyes dart around the room trying to gather enough information for my brain to understand where I am. White walls, white ceilings, florescent lighting, I inhale and the smell of sterility fills my nostrils. My bed is partially inclined. The light blue sheets are tucked neatly under my armpits. I try to move my arm and feel a tug. I raise my head off the pillow as much as I can, which is only a little. The IV needle in my arm is causing the discomfort. I put my arm back onto the bed. I try to locate a button or pull-cord to signal a nurse. With my limited movement, I don't find anything. I try to yell, my voice comes out scratchy and quiet. How long have I been like this? My body is so unusable right now. I try to move my legs. My toes wiggle a bit, but it takes too much effort to move any other part of the leg itself. My eyes hurt as the sun comes into my room from the window. The rushing sound moves through my brain as my eyes try to adjust. I blink uncontrollably as the brightness penetrates.

A nurse comes into the room and begins messing with my IV bag to my right. She's totally ignoring me as she sticks to her normal routine. She checks the paper on the monitor next to my bed.

"Help me," I gasp quietly and it takes so much effort to get the words out. She hears the words though they are low and barely audible. She takes in a breath and yells.

"Docteur! Docteur! Vite sans tarder!" She's speaking French franticly as she leaves the room. I'm still in Paris? I remember everything clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. When I looked at my hand I hadn't noticed how much it has aged. The doctor comes running into the room with the nurse close behind. He takes out a small silver flashlight and begins beaming me in the eyes. The rush returns with each flash, my pupils dilating normally, but slower than normal. I look away from the light. He places his hand on my chin as he redirects the light into my eyes for a few moments. Back and forth he hits them with the brightness. He releases my face and takes the stethoscope from around his neck. My bed begins to elevate further as the nurse stands at the foot of it operating the level foot pedals. A white figure stands behind her. A beautiful woman with dark hair aglow, she is radiating with light. Sarah? I mumble weakly. She disappears and reappears beside my bed, opposite the doctor. Her hand touches mine and is warm. She leans in to gain a clear shot of my ear. You have to be strong, Brandon. The children need you, now more than ever. I look into her eyes as she backs away from me. She closes in and kisses me on the cheek. Tears flow from my eyes and begin to blot the pillow. She leans in again. I love you. It's the last thing she whispers as she fades into the sunlight of the window. The cold stethoscope touches my chest as the doctor goes in from between my buttons. The tears will not stop flowing from my ducts as he checks me over. I look back to the spot where she once stood hoping to catch another glimpse of her, but she's gone. The love of my life is gone. She's gone forever and I wasn't there to protect her. I lost them all! My mind goes back to what she'd said just moments ago. The children need you, now more than ever. The children, they're ok? I have to find them. First I'll need to be able to move. The snot flows from beyond the oxygen tube in my nose. The nurse notices, grabs a Kleenex, and begins to remove the mess. She continues by grabbing another tissue to blot the tears on either side of my face. I take a breath to slow the tears. They do a little, but still continue to cloud my eyes and drip more slowly. They continue to look me over as I let my mind drift. I have to be strong and I have to find the kids!

****

Beth made me powerless with her power after I managed to get a hit in on her. I was frozen as she knocked me out with an object nearby. I have to be stronger. There is so much power deep inside me. In all my efforts to stifle my powers by denying they are there during my training with Beth, I've made myself weak. Not anymore. I am in a dark room. I begin to feel my way around the place. I reach my arms in front of me and take a couple of steps forward. My hands bump into a solid wall. I begin tracing my way around the palisade with my hands. The structure is rounded off on the inside. I turn in circles as I feel around. It's one big circle that's about six steps across. I reach my hands up toward the ceiling and feel nothing. Being a girl of five and a half feet in height, I was hoping to touch something when I reached for the sky. There is emptiness above me. I can't do anything to get out of the situation. It's pitch-black in here, but I will try anyway. I gather up my power and give a blast into the darkness. It hits the wall shattering fragment of cement everywhere. Some of the pieces hit me in the legs and the dust granules float into my lungs. I begin to cough uncontrollably as the detritus invades my body. I back up to the farthest wall away from the blasted portion. The junk gets into my nose. I can't get away from it. I have to wait for it to settle. I continue to hack as I sit against the wall, sliding down and wrapping my arms around my knees.

****

I work with my physical therapist every day. She bends my legs and flexes my arms again and again. The weakness in my tight muscles causes a lot of pain as the pins and needles pass through the sensitive nerves. I moan in pain with every push and pull of my extremities. Although I don't understand a word that is spoken to me, that is all overcome through extensive hand and arm signals and nonverbal communications. I have to get better in order to get my kids back. I've learned from some American magazines that one of the kind nurses has brought in for me that I've been out for about ten years. How did I sleep for so long? The dreams of the past had been my only company. My voice has returned and, although scratchy still, is strong enough to speak normally. Even though I can't communicate very well with most of the staff, a couple of them speak English well enough that I have someone to talk to once in a while. Those members of the staff have started to work a lot more because of my presence. When they aren't on shift, there are times when others have to call them on their cells in order to translate. It isn't too long before I begin walking and most of the strength has returned.

****

After my punishment, Beth moves me back to my room, but barely leaves my side. She threatens my life every time she gets the slightest negative thought or motion.

Her eyes dig into my soul as she says, "Do you want to end up like your mother? It's your fault that she's dead! If you would've just left everything as it was she'd still be alive!" She pulls at every fiber of my being with the mind games. I know it was my fault and I also know that there is nothing I can do against Beth. She's so well practiced in her craft. Her talent to render a person immobile is frustrating. I will find a way to fight her, eventually. For now, I will be the servant that she wants. She's brought the old man back to me from before.

"Now, kill him!" She tells me. This time, I obey. I gather my strength; it takes only a second for me to get ready. Besides the remorse I feel just beforehand, it is effortless. I am getting even stronger than ever. The kill is silent. He has no time to scream or moan in pain. It is an instant death. He slumps in his chair, lifeless.

"There, are you satisfied now? I've done as you asked and killed a man for no reason!" I am seriously upset by what's just occurred. A drip escapes my duct and I immediately wipe it from my face with my sleeve before she can get a full glimpse. She half smiles at me. She loves the fact that I'm in pain and feel badly for what I've done.

"Yes, Brielle, it's about time you've done as you're told. It will save your life someday." She snickers and leaves the room. I guess I've graduated back to freedom. Well, free from being babysat every second of the day. I return to my bedroom, another advantage that's been earned back. I go to my bed and flop into it facedown. I begin to sob profusely with remorse for the murder I've just committed. Daddy, please help me. I call out for the millionth time over the years. I didn't have time to help him. She got me from behind. Beth placed the ether cloth over my mouth and nose. The last thing I remember is my Dad floating in the air and writhing in pain with Derrick standing in front of him smiling.

Brielle, where are you? I hear his voice in my head. I perk up and stand from my bed.

Dad?! I call back to him, sending my voice out into the atmosphere as far as I can.

Brielle! I need you to tell me where you are. Things are beginning to get look up! I tell him where I am. He tells me to stay strong and that he will be here as soon as he is strong enough to.

I love you! I tell him. He returns the statement and tells me to keep our telepathic talking to a minimum, anyone could be listening. She was listening.

****

I am lying in the hospital bed. My muscles are nearly good enough to carry me about my business as before. The doctor wants to keep me in the hospital under neurological observation due to the length of the coma. I have a plan and need to be strong enough to carry it out so I don't complain. After nearly ten years what's a few more weeks? I hear the storm over the city as the thunder rumbles loudly. The rain has been coming down for about an hour. My lights are out as I lay there thinking about sleeping. I begin to drift off as I hear a scream from the hallway. I roll from my bed opposite the door. The lightning flashes again from above rattling the window. I glance toward the door as the sound of wet sneakers near. I gear up mentally preparing for battle. I haven't used my powers in a long time, but can feel as the heat begins from my feet. The atmospheric electricity strikes again. The legs are standing at the door. The sound of the wind whipping the rain water against the pane is intense. The old monitor against the wall on the other side of the bed flies across the room on its own. It's time to go Brandon, I tell myself.

"It is time to go, Brandon, to hell!" Her voice is tempestuous and menacing like a banshee's. The bed lifts from the floor head first into the opposite wall. It slams hard as the metal side rail crushes with the pressure.

"You're the one who's going to hell you, evil bitch!" I announce, using the flying bed as cover as I charge at her. The adrenaline flowing inside me gives me the push I need to move quickly despite my aged muscles. As I run in her direction, through a mental projectile into her face. She stumbles backwards and out into the hallway from where she came. Her hands go to her face as her eyes close. I go deeper within myself before she gets the chance to hit me back. Her eyes fly open, echoed laughter comes from the cupped hands. She moves them as quickly as she'd placed them there. The inkiness of her eyes is mesmerizing. She stops me. You have to fight her, Daddy! Brielle is all the strength that I need to snap from the woman's power. I surge from the heat. I turn into the lightning from the storm and shoot her in the face with everything I can summon. Her head explodes. Pieces of flesh fly everywhere as her body drops to the perfectly tiled floor. I step over her body as I walk down the floor's hall. The night nurse's lifeless body slouches in the chair at the nurses' station. There is no more time to get strong. I'm coming for you, Brielle. Get ready.

****

I hear my father's call. I stand by the window and wait for him to arrive. It seems like hours before I see his silhouette in the rain. The lightning explodes from the clouds above. His wet body drips in front of the iron surrounding gate below. A thunderous boom bellows loudly. His shaggy hair drips in his face as he stands there confronting the thick metal. His head is tilted forward as he concentrates. The gate begins to shake violently as it bends inward toward the mansion. The clasping lock inside explodes from the pressure. My eyes change as I go to assist him in his entry. My bedroom window pane blows outward. The shards from the glass are caught in the wind of the storm and taken away. The barrier blasts open on its hinges. The gates swing so violently they slam into the fencing. They lodge themselves like a woven basket. He begins to walk toward the mansion's front door. I can hear the crunching from below. It's time to go, Brielle. His voice is haunting and hollow. He's possessed with power.

I turn to the door of my room and blast the wood to smithereens. The paintings on the hallway's wall are shredded to bits with the blast. The antique picture frames dangle from the nails they are secured with as the canvas looks like a torn piece of clothing hanging from a tree branch. I take the immediate right down the narrow hall toward the front door to meet him as he enters. I run as quickly as I can. I haven't seen my father in almost ten years and the anticipation is killing me. I come out to the banister's edge. A railing lines the exit from one of the several halls within the mansion. Beyond the banister is the enormous opening that greets visitors as they enter the front door. Across the abyss to the other side is the mirror image of this side. Three small halls on either side lead into several different rooms. Taking a left from the short hallway leads to a gigantic staircase with a landing, more stairs, the abyss, and then the front door. I take the turn in the direction of the stairs as the lightning illuminates the grand staircase. I get to the top of the stairs as the front door blows in off its hinges. My father is here!

"Where are you going, Brielle?" A male adolescent voice enters my head from behind. I turn to face him. It's Bennett! He looks almost identical to the way I remember our father looking, but a bit younger. His eyes are black and hollow.

"Bennett!" I yell his name. I haven't seen him since we got here. I double-back running to give him a hug. I grab him tightly in my arms. He doesn't return the gesture. He is a statue to me.

Where are you going, Brielle? He asks again, only this time he doesn't use his voice. I back away from him in awe, staring into his eyes.

I'm leaving this prison, Ben. Come with us. Dad is here to rescue us. His expression is solid as he digs into my soul.

You can't leave, Brielle. Donovan would not approve. We were abandoned by Brandon. He left us for the Society. We have a new father and his name is Donovan. His voice is creepy and bland. There is no expression. He sounds like a tape recorder playing back. There is no changing his mind, but I have to get out of here. I turn back toward the stairwell. I freeze as my body begins to lift from the ground. I'm as stiff as a board. Bennett, stop! The pain is torturous.

Ben, stop this! My father yells mentally from below. His voice is just as flat and recorded as Ben's. My body continues to float. Over the banister and into the air, I am soaring several feet from the hard ground below. I dig deep within my psyche. My eyes begin to burn from their usual light blue into a blinding shade of white. My blonde hair begins to flow violently. I strain to spin around in Ben's mental locks. I don't want to hurt you! My father says again. I am turned completely, facing my brother. His gaze is tearing into me. The whites of my eyes grow lighter, they glow like the sun. The large wooden door flies up from below. It is deflected off the psychic bubble Bennett has created. The vortex swirls around his body as he tries to burn into me. The heat inside my head grows larger. I have to let it out! Rays of light shoot from my eyes blasting him in the chest, his body topples backward. I'm free and falling to the solid wooden floor below. The drop slows suddenly. My father gently lowers me to the ground. My feet touch softly. I look over to him. His eyes still black as night. He is so thin. His muscular structure has been replaced as he'd withered over the years.

I'm not through with you, Brandon and Brielle! I spin on my heels to see Bennett standing on the landing above yelling down at us. I've been taught more than you'll ever know! The psychic blast creates a wave against both of our bodies as we fly into the doorway behind us into the sitting room. My body slams into a small antique chair sending a lurch of pain into my ribs. The wind is forced from my body for a moment as I gasp trying to recover. My father slams into the wall near the fireplace, missing the brick of the mantle only by inches. His body falls to the floor. I slide across the room as I hold my ribs with one hand. Low crawling like a soldier during war as he's taking enemy fire. I reach him and grasp his outstretched hand with mine. The power that begins to flow between us is indescribable. The heat pours between us. Our eyes turn the solid color they normally do when we use our abilities under duress. We both rise to our feet to see Bennett nearing. He's so much taller than when I'd seen him the last time. He has to be nearly six feet tall. His thin body accents the size of his head and the blackness behind his eyes. His black hair is greased messily. The demonic snarl on his face is menacing. He is coming for revenge and means business by the look. The power that my father and I share makes Bennett's approach unintimidating. The whirlwind begins to surround our bodies as we begin to prepare ourselves for his attack and our counterattack. He throws his psychic blast at us. The force slams against my chest, but we stand together unscathed by it. The combined psyche starts to flow from within. My eyes glow again, my father's blacken. Our blast is not to be reckoned with. Bennett's body flies from the sitting room, across the foyer, and into one of the poles holding up the balcony landing above. He begins to stand again, eyes still ablaze. We walk in his direction, the vortex surrounding us still. He begins to charge. We hit him again with as much force as we can. The shockwave slams into him and passes into the building's interior walls, the lightning strikes from outside simultaneously. His body slams against the broken back wall and hits the floor. The balcony crumbles without the support of the structure below. His body is buried in the rubble.

****

"Tous a bord le train," the conductor announces loudly enough for all the people in the station to hear. We quickly board the train with our luggage. My father has one suitcase and I have another. We're finally together after all these years. I've lost a mother and a brother along the way. He's lost a wife and a son. The Society will never go away so we'll do our best to avoid them. We find our car on the train and look for our assigned seats. It only takes a few minutes to get to the right ones. I slide open the door and we step inside. We each place our luggage on the racks above and turn to sit down. The seats are relatively clean for being such a popular mode of transportation to the locals. The train begins to shutter and rattle as we take off from the station. We begin speeding up as we leave the confines of the city we'd spent so many unwilling years. We're off to England in search of a better life and if that doesn't work, back to America. I watch out the window as we speed along the rails. The scenery is a blur unless one looks well beyond what's directly in front of you. The vineyards paint the French countryside in perfect lines up and down the hillsides.

****

He sits alone in the dark, seeing the vineyard view from the train as she watches out the window. His dark features are bruised and scathed but will heal. His father will help him. "This isn't over with, Brielle," he whispers in the darkness to himself. Sleep takes over his tired, worn body.

****

Authors Notes:

Family is one of the more important things in life.

The most important thing is love.

If you don't have love, you don't have life.

Even in the event that you lose love, knowing that you once had it means that you've lived.

****

About the Author

R.J. Hamilton grew up in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota, served in the United States Army for 12 years, and now lives in Topeka, Kansas.

He is currently attending Washburn University in Topeka to obtain his Bachelor's Degree in English Writing.

R.J. Hamilton is the author of Self Convictions, Self Consciousness, Self Conclusions, Self Consequences, And the Hand of God, Dark Solo, Because It Feels Good, A Personal Hell: Don't Ask, Don't Tell, & Dissecting Sean Connor.

