Finally Home… …Or Not

My life has been pretty much messed up from the beginning, from the moment I was born. By the way, my name is Ahuva Margalit, which by Hebrew meaning means “Beloved/A Precious Object”. I really don’t feel like a beloved or a precious object right now and you know, now that I think about it, I never really felt that way. It started when my mom never wanted me or so it feels like since I never met her or my father. They gave me up for adoption as soon as I was born. I mean, I’m sure they had their reasons but it still hurts. I’ve been from foster family to foster family each one worse than the last. I’ve finally given up hope for love, happiness, a family, and a life I’ve dreamed about. I have to just figure it out on my own, I guess.
I ran away from my last foster family, at the age of twelve, and lived on the streets of New York doing the best I could. I have a gift though and my gift is what some people would call psychic. I can tell you anything you could possibly know about a person just by touching their skin. I think that is why nobody ever adopted me. I broke up marriages by accident because I found out things and spoke them allowed without thinking.
Now I am seventeen and I am living with four other special teens (Amanda Ellen, Connor Turner, Malachi Kenmore and Lela Adams) in a house where we have a place to sleep and we have food on the table. But the only way we can stay here is by using our gifts for Dr. Keels. Amanda can make you do anything she wants and Lela can see the future. Connor can heal you from any injury and Malachi can erase your memories.
Dr. Keels runs a Psychic house, or whatever you want to call it, where people come to get their fortune read, get their mental and physical wounds healed, get the knowledge of about a friend or family member, and get bad memories erased. Each day we train to get better at what we do. We sit in this chair and the second hand doctor Marie connects us to the chair. We have sensors connected to the middle of our foreheads, our temples, our chests, and tubes connected to our arms to monitor our breathing, our pulse, and our brain patterns as we meditate for at least an hour (it is required). Afterwards we just hang out and just be the teenagers we are.
I am sitting in the kitchen right now, listening to Lela tell us some childhood story. “My parents were out of town and my brother Daniel and I had to have a babysitter. We hated her, she was horrible. So we decide to lock her out of the house. I said I heard someone outside and when she went out to see my bro locked the door” Lela said as she and the others laughed, well except Malachi.
That night I dreamed that my mom did love me and never gave me up and we had a family together, maybe even a little brother or sister. I was so happy and then I woke up. I wonder how it would feel to live with your mother for so long and still have her end up giving you away because she couldn’t stand you. I wonder what it would feel like to know that your mother loved your brother better then you because he was normal. I wonder what it would be like to be Lela.
Connor and I get along the best because we have similar backgrounds and stories. I understand him and he understands me. Today Connor and I have to work. I am sitting at the front desk with Connor and we are talking when a man wearing an all black suit walks in. He asks for information on a coworker but he won’t say the coworker’s name. He still wants me to look. I’ll give it a shot but I still shoot a worried glance at Connor but he just shrugs. The man and I walk in a room and sit down facing each other. I hold out my hand and he places his in mine. I give him a look but he just smiles, this smile is sarcastic like he knows something I don’t. I roll my eyes then I close them and just watch what goes like a slide show before my eyes.
He knows Dr. Keels and I see pictures of each of us in the “training” room and the mirror that is in there turns out to be a window on one side and a mirror on the other. Dr. Keels and this man are in some room I don’t recognize it looks like there are no doors or windows except the one that one window/mirror (you know those window/mirrors that cops have in the interrogating room). The pictures are going fast now and I try to catch everyone but it is hard. The pictures are becoming clear to me they are forming a story and that story is one full of lies and betrayal and heart ache. Dr. Keels is draining our psychic energy with that “training” chair and is using us, for what I don’t know.

Impressum

Texte: All rights reserved by Alayna Turney 2010
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 28.07.2010

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Widmung:
A Psychic House Novel Book 1