Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

My father put his arm around my shoulder and we began to walk in the direction of our house. His mood was shifting. He wasn't as uptight as he was before. It was almost like I felt surrender in him. He'd decided dreading whatever was bothering wasn't going to stop it, facing it head on would save him the misery.

"Willow...you're a gifted child, and I'm not talking about your creativity," he began.

My body tensed. I'd rehearsed exactly how I'd tell my parents about my weirdness, but I always chickened out before I said a word. It wasn't cool knowing I'd stressed about something for no reason. Did they really know?

"The gifts you have come, in part, from me," he said in his familiar peaceful tone.

I slowly glanced up and noticed the proud grin he saved just for me hugging the edge of his lips.

"Which ones?" I asked warily.

"Well, I cannot feel the soul of others, if that's what you're asking."

My stomach dropped. Did everyone know? Feel the soul of others, his rendition of what I did seemed more poetic.

"There are many empaths, Willow. You should never feel alone." His arm tightened a bit around me. "Here, I'll admit, I doubt many come close to the clarity of your ability. It's time for you to be proud of this, to stop managing your symptoms and take control of how divinely you're made.

Once home, Dad led me around the side of the house through the back gate. As we passed by he knocked on the kitchen window to get my mother's attention. Her excitement and anticipation rattled me. Rarely was I as eager about something I was signed up for as she was.

All kinds of scenarios were clamoring in my mind. Everything from being signed up for some ghost hunt to being tested in a special ability hospital—forever erased from my life.

My heart hammered as I sat down in a patio chair and swore to myself that my parents loved me too much to send me away—or unveil me and my weirdness to the world at large. I could believe this all I wanted, under it all I knew an awakening was about to slam into me. I'd expected it near daily when I was little, right when I figured out how different I was. The day never came, no one said a word, but I never let the fear go that one day 'a talk' would come.

I knew my mental freak out was causing me to feel things that were not real, but right then I'd swear the star on my wrist was burning my flesh as the largest spotlight in existence focused on it.

No nightmare, no star, no talk.

That freaking demon was about to turn my life upside down. He'd successfully broken into my reality.

Mom made her way out to the patio with three glasses of tea and set them around the table. She then ran back inside and returned with her phone, iPad, and laptop. I kept my eyes down, waiting for her to settle. When she did, Dad continued.

"Do you want to what I can do?" he asked, settling in next to my mother,

I met his stare, silently answering.

"I can see what is wrong inside the body."

"Anything?"

A shallow nod.

"You're a really good doctor."

Maybe this was a college talk? A course change? No New York? I could use this empath trait in a career choice like he did with his 'gift'?

"Do you have a weird gift, Mom?"

"Oh, no, I wish. I'm from this dimension," she said innocently.

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