Seventh Sense

II

It used to be that I never spoke due to me stutter, now I just don't. People claim I'm either deaf or stupid, but if anyone ever knew my secret they'd use me. Your voice is always the most powerful part of you, it's free, your outlet for expression. Those who don't talk have the most to say, while those who talk a lot have the most hidden from the world.

Sometimes I feel like screaming as loud as I can, keeping everything bottled in is tiring. Some days it's like losing the battle in myself, as if some external force is hidden inside me. Not speaking has put me through a lot of trouble, which probably helps to explain the policeman who was shouting at me. “So you're one of those kids huh? Never talking to protect your little buddies! Who else was with you! Answer me girl!” He slapped me. I clasped my hand to my face instantly as he stood above me glaring, I had hardly noticed he was actually on top of the table until another voice forced my mind out of focus.

“Lawrence, her foster parents are here. And should I remind you that you could lose your badge for hurting anyone, whether they are actually guilty or not. Innocent until proven otherwise.” A woman walked into the room. “One more misdemeanor and you're gone. Now go talk to her parents.”

I watched as he almost stormed out of the room, as if he was a small child throwing a temper tantrum when heading into time out. The woman sat just across from me, in her police uniform she took charge, sat up straight and just looked at me, her hazel eyes calmly glaring through me. “You're in quite a predicament young lady. You were caught with drug dealers while avoiding arrest.” Her tone was controlling, “But I think there's a different story than what meets the eye. I've talked to your foster parents, private tutor, and the other kids who were there. I'll invite your parents in and explain the whole thing to them as well as you.” She left complete puzzlement in the air, all I did was get lost and I end up here.

One quiet minute later one angry set of foster parents came bursting through the door. “The quiet one, well that explains everything now doesn't it!” My foster mother was furious.

“Mrs Ray, now please sit down. There's been a huge misunderstanding here and I'd like the chance to apologize, congratulate, and explain everything.” The police woman smiled. “First I'm sorry for the whole fiasco that's happened here, and I congratulate you for raising this fine young lady.”

“She was seen with drug dealers and avoided arrest, are you seriously congratulating us for that?” My foster father roared. “And I thought that movies were unbelievable, but this is nuts!”

“Now Mr Ray, Paisley had nothing to do with them. She got lost on the way home from her tutor’s due to the fact that she had to meet her tutor at her new house instead of the office, I was told that you dropped her off yourself so you can't deny the location was difficult. It just so happens that before she was out into the system Paisley was irresponsibly and horrifyingly ripped from her mother and watched the policeman who took her murder her mother on the spot. Paisley has a fear of the sirens, fearing that something is going to happen to her. She heard a siren when she was regrettably near a high market for drugs when she started running, a classic case of a child reacting to an unexpected phobia. It was a complete mistake her even being there. I'm sorry to waste your time. You're all free to go.” The woman explained.

“You got Paisley to say all that?” My foster mother beamed with joy. I watched as a few tears formed in her eyes as she clung tightly with hope to my foster father’s arm.

“No, interviewing others, looking at her non-existent file, watching security cameras, and personally knowing the cop who murdered her mother. It's easy to piece everything together. Also all the drug dealers trying to throw her under the bus when they never talk, way too obvious. Thank you for your time.” I watched her get up and walk to the door. “You can talk in here for a few minutes while I finish the paperwork.”

Left in the room, all I could do was listen to the squeaking of the fan. My foster parents seemed disappointed, they always wished I would talk to anyone, but how could I?  My foster mother's eyes were slightly glazed with tears, and now they represented her grief instead of hope. Her auburn hair in its usual bun while her suit outfit perfect, not a single wrinkle or hair clinging to any fiber. Her eyes were heavy, the bags underneath showing her tiredness. Holding hands with my foster father, he stayed firm and collected. His blue eyes staring straight at me as if he waited for me to explain something. Bald scalp and loose wrinkles, not very distinctive, or attractive in any way to anyone.

“Paisley, I think it is time for you to find a new foster family. It's not that we don't love you, or that you did anything wrong. We can't take the silence anymore. I'm sorry Paisley but it's eating your mother and me alive. Even your old stutter was better than the silence. We’ll bring your stuff down, I'm sure the police woman can take care of everything else for us, it would be too hard for you to come with us. Goodbye.” My foster father held his wife close as they left the interrogation room, but before they did a pile of papers were taken out of my foster father's brief case, ripped, and thrown to the floor. Incomplete adoption papers.

A single tear traced my cheek, and soon it flowed into a constant stream of salt water racing from my eyes. It was killing me not speaking, and they say they're the ones suffering. I ran to the corner, and in a small ball continued to cry. They will never understand what I have to go through, my voice inside my head screaming for freedom but unable to without repercussions. Outside the precinct I could hear the pounding of a sudden downpour.

The door started to rattle as the policewoman came back in. “I overheard, I'm so sorry.” She wrapped her gentle arms around me.

So much was built up, all the pain sort of slipped out, “Leave me alone!” I shouted as lightning struck the building. Through the flickering lights I watched as she was instantly thrown to the other side of the room. Her whole being was thrusted against the opposite wall in such fury as she flopped to the ground as if she were nothing but a doll. She glanced at me, not in horror, but more with amusement. Meanwhile, I was the one flocked with horror. I had been so good about not talking for years that I didn't even recognize my own voice, let alone its strength.

“You weren't afraid of the police siren. You were afraid because you're a Siren.” She was bewildered and curious. The rain outside started solidifying into sleet as the this were getting louder and the air was getting colder. “Please don't be afraid, I'm like you. Your a sixth sense as well. You must be scared, don't worry you’ll be okay.”

Slowly walking towards me she reached out her hand. “You can stay with me for the night. I'll explain everything. How does that sound?” Her hard attitude melted. She seemed like a whole new person. As I took it the weather had stopped leaving nothing more than an overcast grey sky to linger on.

I nodded my head slightly, still terrified and severely confused. Still crying she sat next to me, and told me the story of Adam and Eve and how they created sixth senses like us, for she never talked to anyone about me to find out the truth. She dug into my head and found the answers herself, she's a telepath.