Chapter One

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"Stop pouting woman," he states, his light brown eyes staring into mine. A hint of amusement hits his face as he holds his cards close to his torso.

"Are you going to show me more of what you have done?" I ask and all I get in return is a smirk along with a dimple on his right cheek.

"In due time, my love." I roll my eyes as dramatically as I can. I smirk at my next play. I think I may lose because he seems to have good cards. He is most likely bluffing. The room is silent all but the faint sounds of his feet taping on the wooden floor.

Fate always deals the devil with the right cards. He fell from heaven and was given to hell. I sit before my devil, yet I know my hand is not acceptable for the game we are playing.

Should I bluff and see if he folds?
I ask myself while I glance at the matte black cards I hold in my hand. They are all horrible for the game we are playing. Whoever dealt this hand of cards gave me the worst luck. Looking back at it, I can't remember where they came from.

No, I can't fall into this game that would be too easy. I would rather wait for him to fade away like he normally does. Until I put him away, he will never leave my unconscious world. He will continue haunting me. My dreams used to help me, until I helped the wrong people all because of him. Then all my visions became nightmares, which I hate.

"Stop your pouting woman," he states as he stares intensely into my eyes, a hint of amusement crossing his face as he holds his cards close to him.

I was forbidden to do anything but ignore. To never speak of the gift bestowed upon me by my ancestors. My grandma who died when I was ten told me about it when my dreams kept giving me Deja vu. She never really explained the gift, only that it was no good.

"Are you going to show me more of what you have done?" I ask, he just grins, clearly not ready to give away what awful things he has done.

"In due time my love." As he says this I roll my eyes at him and peek at my hand to see if I have to fold.

The room is silent, aside from the faint sounds of his feet tapping against the carpeted floor and a breeze from a window that is opened up slightly that sounds like a whistle.

"Alicia, wake your ass up, you should already be getting ready for tonight!" Thema shouted as I lay in my smelly work clothes from today. I must have passed out, while she was talking. She must have let me fall asleep.

"Sorry, it's been a long day." I yawn out of exhaustion hoping that tiny cat nap saved me from the horrible dark circles that have formed from overworking myself. I don't sleep much, so I can ignore this curse. But the dreams are getting more interesting each one is it's own piece of art.

"Your Mama called," she says, handing over my phone. She calls almost every day to the point it's like I never left. She is a very caring kind of person, but sometimes I tend to avoid her calls because she can call too much.

In the last few years since my split with my ex, I have found myself. But quite recently I have found him again thanks to the curse. My Mama doesn't know about it, she has never been someone to talk to about it. I didn't want her to assume I am crazy. She already tries to control my life. If she knew she would send me to a looney bin.

My Mama constantly tells me that I wouldn't know myself truly until at least the age of thirty. I'm pretty sure that's half-bullshit, the only thing I do not know is why these types of dreams show up. I know a few things about myself like hating the color purple on me because I look sallow. I also hate being tardy. Which we are going to be if she doesn't let me get ready for tonight.

Thema is planning on going to the bar tonight, she is kindly letting me go with her. After the last few years of knowing each other, it is like we are sisters. We clicked in so many ways, our pasts linked us up. Thema is a tall, curvy dark-skinned woman with the most honest personality I have ever had the pleasure to endure. I still haven't told her about my curse. The feeling that no one would believe me is exhausting and unsettling.

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