A Long Way Home

Premonitions

She had had dreams before. More like premonitions. But a dream nonetheless. They were often snatches of ideas. Bits of pieces and thoughts whirling around in her brain just wondering if she'd pick them up. A few times she had. There was the time she knew she'd run into him on the street. She'd had a dream about it the night before. She was so giddy when it came true she fell out of her chair as she rose to greet him.

Then there was the time she knew he had met someone. That one was harder to swallow. It was as though her waking mind couldn't allow it to be true so she fought the urge to think about it in daylight. But at night, the dreams came and when she woke she knew it was true.

It wasn't until she saw him at the house, her house, that her fears were confirmed. It was worse still, she was lovely. All rosy cheeked with freckles and a calm demeanor that suited him. They were different from one another – the two women that is. She had wavy brown hair and bright hazel eyes. She exuded cool girl summer chic with her denim cut offs, pristine Keds and an artfully oversized t-shirt.

Mia on the other hand, well, she was Mia. She didn't quite know how to explain herself. She also had brown hair but it didn't fall in waves. It more hung straight by her face then burst into curls at the ends of each strand. She assumed she'd have a better head of hair had she any idea of how to take care of it, but it wasn't on her priority list.

Besides her hair, she had dull brown eyes. They came alight when she had a premonition. Sometimes she'd catch her reflection in the bathroom mirror and think "oh there you are" as if she was seeing her true self. But outside of those rare moments she was just as she was. She wasn't boring per se. She had just stopped caring somewhere along the way.

Perhaps it was the long hours at school or the long hours at work but Mia had transformed from a young woman who prided herself on her pristine appearance to a not so young woman who rarely put on more than a ripped pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.

Every once and a while she would put makeup on and get "dressed" as her mother liked to say. But outside of those rare occasions Mia simply existed. She lived her life as it was and as it came to her. She had long ago stopped trying to make her life work out. Despite the premonitions and the signs from the universe, she never quite got it together. And for Mia, someone who used to strive to hard for being together, this came as an abundant and overwhelming disappointment.

At first she fought it. She threw everything she had into seeing her signs through. She tried desperately to prove to herself that her sixth sense had to be correct. It just had to be. How else could she explain the occurrences? The rare glimpses into the future that were ture but completely unexplainable? She tried desperately to make sense of it all until she met her. Her, the girl who he was with. Her, the woman he would marry. Her, the one she lost the contest to.

She looked down at her hands. In her right, she saw herself gripping her pen with super human strength. In her left, she held her journal and on the page strewn out in front of her, she saw what she'd been seeing for the last year. The house that she belonged to.