She is not part of a prophesy... She IS the prophesy. There can be no mistakes, but Fate loves a good game and in order to succeed, she must bring to light everything that's been hidden away; locked away in the last place she'd ever expect...
Hersel...
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Have you ever had that feeling that you're forgetting something, like a word perhaps that's right on the tip of your tongue but never quite close enough to align with your thoughts?
My dreams are like that.
The same nightmare every single night, some parts more vivid than others. The worst is when that dream twists from what actually happened that night into something more. Flashes of conversations and people that I can't understand. They always happen so fast I can hardly comprehend anything from them.
When I was younger, my mother told me that dreams were our way of coping with things. They were our brains' way of working through problems. Whenever I would have the same dream she would say it was my minds way of telling me something I already knew, it was just something I hadn't consciously put together yet.
I've had the same dream every single night for the past year. Only now things were starting to change, subtly, but still noticeable and inescapable. My mind was screaming for me to realize something and no matter how hard I tried, it was like listening to the answers underwater.
I took a sharp look around my room grateful for its emptiness. I had somehow managed to doze off after unpacking, and trying to rationally explain why I wake up screaming or walking to a roommate without them thinking I was a freak would be impossible. It's a big reason as to why I isolated myself from everyone after the accident.
I could hardly explain it to myself let alone anyone else.
As I sat there lost in thought, this slow chill began to crawl it's way over my skin, like when you're about throw up and these sickening chills trace their way over your whole body, only it was much slower. It felt like a whisper carefully being spoken over and over.
I felt watched.
For a moment I couldn't move, and then I heard it, a single whisper snarled teasingly, "Evelyn."
The rather spacious room was becoming smaller by the second so without another thought I dashed out of there feeling this need to be anywhere else. It called me back invitingly, almost like a craving. I had heard that voice before in my dreams. It was always right before I woke up, but those were just dreams weren't they?
I moved on instinct taking the elevator to the top and then climbing a set of narrow stairs. Thankful when that invisible wave began to dissipate the higher I climbed. I found myself constantly looking around me expecting to see someone or something but there was nothing. And something told me what ever that had been was gone.
Maybe I'm finally going crazy, the stress just being to much.
My first visit to this school had been to take the required tests for acceptance. I had been so freaked out at the idea of failing and letting my dad down that I could hardly breathe, so my dad got us here an hour early so that he could show me the little flower garden someone anonymously cultivated on the roof. The height terrified me, but then my dad pointed out how small everything was from up there.
