~Chapter 1~
“Enter.” I croaked in my best “creepy” voice.
The preppy blonde (amazing how many of those you find here in good ol’ LA) who was sitting on the couch in the “waiting room”-aka my living room- jumped a little, and I had to stifle a giggle.
“O-okay.” She said in a quivering voice. She stood up to walk into the “reading room”- aka the place where I tell people’s fortunes- when Kabeli (my black cat) brushed against her legs. She actually
screamed, and I had to shove my mouth into the crook of my arm to keep from laughing hysterically.
She sat down across from me at the tiny table with the crystal ball on it. Her eyes flitted around the room; she was trying not to look at me.
And, hell, I guess I
did look pretty creepy. My long, thick black hair was swept back in a red, scarf-like headband, and my clear blue eyes were surrounded with thick black eyeliner that made them even
more noticeable then they already were. I won’t go into detail about my dress, but suffice to say that I looked like I was ready for trick-or-treating. In short, I looked like an, oh, I don’t know, a
psychic or something.
“Take my hands.” I commanded the prep-head, still using my creepy voice. She slid her hands across the table, and winced when I placed them in my own. Geez, you’d think I was freaking
radioactive or something.
As usual, random images floated in front of me as soon as our hands touched. I was seeing her memories, same old, completely normal stuff. “What do you want to know?” I asked in a hollow voice, which sounded even creepier then the voice I had been using before. Probably because I wasn’t
trying to sound creepy.
“Well… I don’t know…” the prep-head’s (whose name I now knew was Jane) voice seemed to come from far off.
“Jane,” I said, still looking at her memories, “You like your boyfriend a lot, don’t you?”
“How- How did you-” her voice was panicked.
“He doesn’t like it when you flirt with other boys,” I continued, “If you want to keep him, I suggest you stop.”
She snatched her hands away from me, causing the images to stop. I blinked rapidly. It was always hard to get back to reality. Especially when it was suddenly like that. Ugh, that was going to cause a headache. I could already feel it starting up at my temples.
“That’s… I don’t…” Jane was looking around wildly, as if someone was going to jump out at grab her.
“Really,” I said, smirking a little, “Then all those guys at the party were just
friends, like you told him? What about the one you made out with?”
“I…” She took a $20 out of her pocket, “I have to go.
Now.”
She threw the money on the table and ran from the room. She threw open the door, and for a moment I could hear waves, giggles, and other beach sounds coming from the beach outside. Then the door slammed shut.
I sighed. Jeez, what was
her problem? You’d think she never saw a psychic before.
That’s me, Clarissa Twistmourn. One of the few real psychics out there. That’s not my real name, by the way. Who the hell has a last name like
Twistmourn? My real name was Carly Foster, but no one calls me that anymore, not since I ran away from home to live in this place.
Didn’t I mention that before? Huh, must have slipped my mind.
I checked the clock. 9:00 pm, closing time. I flipped the open sign in my window over. Just another ordinary day.
I decided to take a shower. If there’s one thing I like about living alone, it’s not having to share the bathroom with anyone.
So what’s an eighteen-year-old doing living by herself? Good question. Long answer, though.
My parents were abusive. My mom wasn’t as bad as my dad, but still. I was never one of those “oh-I-deserve-it” kind of people. I was more of a “touch-me-one-more-time-and-your-dead” kind of gal. Just cute that way, I guess. But I couldn’t tell the police. My dad worked for the police, so that was never really an option.
So I ended up spending a lot of time at Brian’s house. Brian was-and still is, thank you very much- my best friend. Around two years ago, their family decided to move away from Nevada, to Venice Beach.
I owe Brian’s brother a lot. James is kind of a master in all things illegal. Most people wouldn’t think this is a talent, but hell, since when have
I been normal. Thanks to him, I was able to sneak to LA with them, buy a house, and start a little business, even though I was under-age at 16.
Well, that “little business” evolved into a big one, and I was able to not only pay James back (
don’t ask where he got the money,
I never did. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, that’s what I say. Who made up that phrase, anyway? Does that make any sense? What… oh, crap I’m rambling. Sorry.), but I was also able to buy quite a bit of furniture, and running water, thank
God. For a while… well, let’s just say I’m happy to have a flushing toilet.
Speaking of running water, the water in my shower had gotten
freezing. I had been so wrapped up with thoughts of my past that I hadn’t even noticed.
I turned off the water, shivering miserably. Ugh, I
hated the cold. Probably a good thing I was living on a beach, then.
I quickly dried off, and tied my black robe around myself. After wrapping my hair in my towel, I walked into the kitchen.
I was rummaging through the fridge (another thing I was glad I could afford, let me tell you) when I heard a noise. I gasped, and spun around to find someone climbing in my window.
A/N: Hey again... wow, this chapter was long. Please read, reply, vote, do whatever. I'll post the next chapter when I feel like it. It could be tomorrow, could be nex year, who knows? I'm just wierd like that... so, okay, I'll shut up now. Bye-for-now!
