Chapter 51- The Sharp Sting Of Disbelief

819 26 27
                                    

Isabel walked around the tents, looking for one in particular. She knew her life was falling apart at the seams, but she couldn't figure out a way to fix it on her own. So she had decided that maybe she needed outside intervention. She had never believed in psychic dealings or mediums or fortunetellers or anything like that, but hell, she was already at rock bottom. How much worse could she possibly get? She had known that the circus was coming back into town, so she was going to see if there was a psychic to speak with.

Finally, she could see a sign that announced that inside the tent was some psychic named Miss Octavia. Isabel stared at that sign for a few minutes, before shaking her head. She could not believe she was doing this. But, as she had already decided, there was no way her life could get any more messed up. There was nothing that this psychic could do that would bring her any lower. The only way her life could get any worse was if Isabel lost it, although that might even be an improvement. She sighed, and parted the flaps on the tent, walking in.

"Come in, Isabel. I've been expecting you," a sultry voice said from the other side of the tent. At first, Isabel shook her head, wondering if "I've been expecting you" was something she said to every person who walked into her tent. But then she realized that Miss Octavia had called her by name. She had explicitly said "Isabel", when Isabel hadn't actually said her name. Well, score one for Miss Octavia.

"Do ye always greet yer visitors like that?"

"Only the ones that I can sense need a little kindness. Why don't you come a little closer? Come on, sit down in front of my table so we can get started," Miss Octavia said, and Isabel nodded curtly, finally walking into the tent instead of just staying in the entrance. The inside was exactly what Isabel expected the tent of a supposed mystic to look like. Even Miss Octavia was dressed the way she expected, like some sort of mystical gypsy. Isabel sat down in front of the table Miss Octavia had mentioned, and looked at the objects on it.

"Crystal ball, could ye get any more predictable?"

"You're not the first skeptic to walk into my tent. So, tell me something, child. If you are so skeptical about the psychic arts, then why did you come today?" Miss Octavia asked, and Isabel snorted but didn't answer right away. She was still observing the table. On the center, of course, was a large crystal ball, but on the corner was an incense holder, which honestly made the tent smell really nice, and Isabel appreciated that. On the right side of the crystal ball was a deck of what Isabel assumed were tarot cards, and on the left was a teapot and cup.

"I figured a great psychic like yerself would know that already," Isabel said, raising an eyebrow, challenging the woman sitting across from her.

"Oh, trust me, I do. But being honest with yourself is typically the first step, so I'd like to hear you say it," Miss Octavia said, but Isabel remained silent, leaving her eyebrow in it's raised position. "Very well. From the moment you walked in here I could sense that you were a very stubborn spirit. And I was right about that, wasn't I? But, as for the reason the came in today. Your life has been very messy and painful lately, and you don't have the knowledge or the willpower to fix it yourself.  So, you figured you'd come to me. After all, there's not much I can do now that will bring you any lower, am I right?"

"I wonder how many people come to ye with the same reasoning," Isabel asked, and Miss Octavia smiled.

"Too many. But that's not how I knew."

"I bet it wasn't. So, how exactly does this work? Do you just look in your crystal ball and tell me my future?"

"Well, only if you want me to. There are four ways for me to see your future. I can use palm-reading, I can read tea leaves, I can draw from the tarot pile, or I can use the crystal ball."

PsychosisWhere stories live. Discover now