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Chapter 5

Chapter 5

My mind wanders to my first time dreaming of the future. It was September 4th, 2001. I remember it so vividly, even now, and recall how I could feel the earth shaking.

In the dream I was standing on the street, I was staring at the tallest building around. It was miles higher than all the others when suddenly a plane hit it. It crashed into the top of it, causing the entire thing to collapse.

When the force of air from the explosion reached me and knocked me over it was like someone hit the repeat button, it happened again and again and again, and all I could do was watch as the plane collided with the beautiful building. I remember my mother shaking me awake.

She told me later that I had been screaming for help, something about a plane and a skyscraper. Then a week later it happened again, but for real.

I walked down the stairs the morning of September 11th and gasped when I saw what I had so vividly dreamed. After that it happened more and more often, whether it was my mother spilling her coffee or a murder was happening on the news.

I can remember looking in the mirror everyday and just thinking it was my fault. I’d stare at my stupid green eyes and tell myself that if I hadn’t dreamt my mom spilling her coffee on herself then it would never had happened and she never would have been late and her clients wouldn’t have fired her.

I’d sometimes pull at my short brown hair, yanking on it so that maybe it would pull the dreams out. When I got older I quit hurting myself as I realized that it couldn’t be my fault, although I still sometimes wondered that if I hadn’t dreamt it maybe it wouldn’t have happened?

I grew out of my shell when I hit puberty, but I still stayed home a lot and didn’t go anywhere for the most part. Thinking about myself made me think of my father. He was often gone and I could never tell him anything.

I loved him to death of course, the few hours of the day that I was awake to see him during. We didn’t talk about anything serious. He was always the person who brightened my day, and now sitting here I wish so badly that he were here and not across the country, thinking I'm dead.

I roll over in the bed, burying my head into the white pillow trying to stop myself from even thinking. Perhaps if I just slept now I'll dream of nothing. Perhaps I'll dream of something pleasant, like the beach, or maybe my own bed at home in New York. I let out a heavy sigh and closed my eyes tight.

Then I hear a knock. “What?” I mumble, the noise muffled from behind my pillow.

“Are you okay?” asks Alexia from the large doorway. The light streaming in from the windows seems bright from having my head stuffed in a pillow and I blink rapidly.

“Yah, I'm just tired is all,” I say to her. She walks in and sits on the soft sheets. She smells like grass and I assume she’s been outside in the yard. It’s a very contrasting smell from the dull smell of cleaner and metal inside.

“So, Brian freaked out,” she says, not looking at me, but instead looking at the off-white ceiling tiles above our heads. They remind me of the ones my high school used to have. “You’d think if someone was mentally unstable they’d know before he was 21 years old.”

I looked at her, shocked she was say that. “What do you mean?” I ask, “Are you saying he’s mentally unstable? He’s not crazy, he’s… I mean it’s just his power. Urgh, not power, his talent.” I say frustrated.

“Sorry” she says quickly, “I didn’t mean to insult him, it’s just that it was a bit weird, you don’t think anything is wrong with him, do you?” I turn away from her and stare at the belt sitting on Willa’s bed, next to mine. “We all have something wrong with us, that’s why we are here, isn’t it?” I feel her stiffen up.