Colors

Unseeable, Unthinkable

*Kayla's pov

I heard him swallow. New territory, probably.

"You're...blind?" He asked, his voice was so surprised, suddenly losing the flirt that it had had just seconds before.

"Yes."

"How long? You seem pretty good at life. I mean, you know, not bumping into people much." I heard him chuckle. "That is, except this morning." I laughed too. I liked his voice, puzzled and guarded. It was so soothing and calm.

"I was in a car crash when I was 6, glass got into my eyes, actually it almost scrapped my nose off, but a surgery was able to save that, thank goodness." I was trying hard not to babble. "I don't remember most colors, not really. I know that an apple is red, and I know red is a darker pink, but if you tried to describe red to me, you couldn't. So I don't have them anymore." I stopped, taking a breath, again, trying not to babble.

"And you know around this town from memory? So you live here?"

"I like to travel, I don't really have a home. My night to night routine is an crappy motel. I just use common sense. It's like, a barn. A barn is usually 175 feet from the door in all three directions. So at least I won't walk into many walls.
"And also, I like to think I can sense where I'm going. For some reason, something always leads me where I need to go."

"Wow, so then why do you-" I put my finger on his lips.

"My turn." I said. He quieted.

"I heard you and another man, Sam, was it? You were talking about the mystery spot. This morning, in the coffee shop."

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't go there. Bad things. They say there is a ghost, a trickster, that kills innocents to capture another's attention. Just a rumor, of course, but there has been a few deaths. Strikes me as odd." I was trying to be careful. There were no myths. Just a trickster that needed to be killed. These fellow hunters haven't realized who it is yet.
I heard Dean swallow.

"A trickster?"

"They call him Gabriel." I said. And I heard him stand up, knocking his chair down in the process.

"Thank you. I have to go, it's been ten minutes. It was so good to meet you. You have a good night, beautiful." I just smiled as the deep voiced man walked away. I felt kind of bad, sending them to their deaths, like ants following the sweet scent of spray repellent.

I hate my conscience sometimes. This was one of those times.

I got up quickly, texting Sheryl that I couldn't find her, and was going home. I lied.