The first time I saw his face, I was six years old

The first time I saw his face, I was six years old. I was just going to bed. Already having said my prayers, I curled up under my homemade quilt and prepared for sleep. My eyelids fluttered shut and I gasped. Behind my eyelids… like a photograph I could see his face.

His face was small and sweet. His cheeks were chubby with baby fat, his Cupid's bow lips pulled into a small smile almost as if he could see me. The one thing that stood out about him most were his eyes. They were warm and brown, like freshly melted chocolate. His midnight bangs slightly obscured my view of his eyes, but I could still see them.

My eyes snapped opened. I screamed.

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My Mother gently took me to the side and explained everything to me. She told me that I was just like her, in so many words. I was shocked by her words. My Mother worked on weekends as a Rent-A-Psychic, so to speak. She would tell desperate hopefuls their futures for a low price while I made new friends at the day care.

I had always thought that Mom's job was just a hobby, like her recent obsession with sci-fi movies. I never dreamed that this was for real, until I saw his face that is.

I had a gift; she explained softly, her voice as gentle as she could make it. She seemed hesitant to tell me everything, but I handled shock a little too well for a six year old. Having your father die suddenly in a car accident can do that to you.

"Your gift is much stronger than mine…" her voice was rueful, slightly envious "I can only hear blurred echoes of peoples past and see faint pictures of their futures. You on the other hand, have something special."

"But who was the boy?" I could handle being a psychic. I wasn't too keen on not knowing the boy though.

She shrugged lightly, her gray eyes full of concern "Whoever he is, he's an important part of your future. Depending on the decisions you make, you may see him within or a few years or you may see him never. Remember, the only certain thing about the future is uncertainty."

Back then I couldn't really understand her. I wasn't concerned with certainty or uncertainty. I wanted to see the boy. I needed to see him. Something deep inside me was pulling me towards him.

"So, I can see the future?"

Mom kissed my forehead and smoothed my pale blonde hair away from it. "I think so. I'm so proud of you honey."

I went to sleep pondering the recent turn of events and my Mother's dark warning to never tell anyone my secret.

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Four years had passed and I kept the secret as though my entire existence depended on it, which it technically did. No one minded my Mother much. They believed that her powers were a hoax, which was exactly what she wanted them to believe. After questioning her about it she responded, "I wear the turban and stuff so that nonbelievers will call it a crock. Only those who truly believe in gifts will come to see me. Those are the people who deserve it best." I never understood her twisted logic.

As most ten year olds, I tended to enjoy any advantages I had over other children. In other words, I cheated.

During school, I was the only person in my class who was prepared for pop quizzes or complicated assignments. My acquaintances were always confused on how I got assignments done early while they were still struggling. I would shrug modestly and say that I had a strong work ethic. I don't think they would've appreciated knowing that I predicted assignments and completed them days in advance.

Besides those minor distractions, life went on as usual. There were a few abnormalities though, other than the assignment thing. It happened one afternoon after my Language Arts class. I was walking down the hall with my newly acquired acquaintance Jessica Hopkins when she suddenly said, "Daniel Singer likes you."

"Who?" I blinked, taken by surprise for once. I hadn't seen anything about him developing feelings for me. Maybe I was getting rusty.

"Daniel Singer…" Jessica giggled nervously and pointed to a group of boys. I knew two of them from my other classes, and instantly recognized Daniel, the fifth grade hottie. He was attractive enough I supposed, with light brown hair and green eyes he easily attracted every girl in my grade and below.

For whatever strange reason he held no appeal for me. I was aware that he was an attractive male, but felt nothing else. Staring at Daniel, I realized that I had never found any boy extraordinary. While all the other girls my age were developing their first crushes, I was too busy noticing trends in the school's future to care.

I felt confused. My expression must've shown because Jessica suddenly looked panicky. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I whispered, still deep in thought. I realized that every time I saw a boy I would subconsciously think 'he's not HIM'.

Him, referring to the boy from my nightly visions. He had grown older, as had I, and had become very handsome. The baby fat slowly disappeared and gave way to charming dimples which added to his stunning smile. His hair was buzzed short, as most boys his age and his eyes were still warm. His nose was dusted with freckles now. I memorized every inch of his face, slowly committing it to my consciousness, drawing out his image at moments like these.

Every time I saw a boy, I would compare them to him. The difference was almost painful. Sure Daniel was attractive, but he didn't have gorgeous dimples, or warm eyes. He just wasn't him.

It was about that time I developed my theory which my Mother readily accepted. I had come to terms that this boy, whoever he was, was in fact my soul mate. Why else would I not feel the strange feelings that other girls did around cute boys?

My Mother agreed with me and actually did some research into that field, assisting me in every way possible. Apparently my theory had some merit, but I could already see that. Get it? I could already… oh never mind.

Despite my aversion to boys, life was pretty peaceful. Mom found a good weekday job in an office, and worked as a psychic in our living room. I was getting good grades, the bills were paid, and the world went round.

Unfortunately, things don't always go as smoothly as we plan.

During lunchtime, I was having a particularly strong headache. It was so potent, that Jessica and another girl had to guide me through the cafeteria and towards our regular seat in the corner. My friend Randy rushed up, his face the picture of concern.

"Is she okay?"

I couldn't answer. The headache came back stronger than ever. It felt like someone was beating my had with a hammer over and over again. Would the agony never end?

"I don't know…" Jessica bit her lip, passing me a glass of cool water. I felt no desire to drink, and quickly slid it away from me.

Randy reached over gently and touched my arm.

I literally jumped a foot in the air. Suddenly everything was clear. I stared at Randy, my face horrified. He froze at my expression "Avani? What's wrong?"

I couldn't breath. The scene was flashing before my eyes like a movie on fast forward. A woman with long, curly dark hair walking towards the stairwell in a familiar house. She balanced a laundry basket piled high with clothes on her waist. She took the first two steps down, not noticing the small hardcover book on the stairs. I bit my lip furiously, willing the woman to step over the book, even though I unconsciously knew that this was the future I was seeing. Her foot touched the book, half her weight instantly shifted and she fell. If her hands hadn't have been full, she would've made it with a few scrapes and bruises…

"NO!" My shout rang across the cafeteria, silencing many tables but I didn't care. Tears poured through my eyes as I watched the woman crumple in a pile at the base of the stairs, her limbs sticking out in irregular positions.

The vision was so clear; I could see her eyes slowly lose life.

I began to sob.

This was the future.

"Randy…" my voice came out choked as my vision cleared to match the present. By then all of my friends were staring at me with frightened expressions on their faces. "Randy go home."

"What?" he whimpered, fear leaking into his usually brave voice.

"Go home Randy…" I repeated a lump formed in my throat as I remembered his sweet, cheerful mother. She always made sugar cookies whenever I visited; now she was dead, or going to be. "Go home now!"

The urgency in my tone got to him before any logic could. He jumped to his feet and looked ready to bolt at a moment's notice. "Why? What's going on Vani? Talk to me!"

I shook my head harder than necessary, trying to clear the images from my mind. I kept seeing them over and over. Her smiling as she re-balanced the laundry and then her cold face as her dead eyes stared straight ahead, all flickers of warm light gone. I shuddered so hard it looked like a convulsion. "Your mother."

Then everything went black.

-

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We moved not too soon after that. Randy raced home to find his mother dead, and I never saw him again. Rumors spread like wildfire. The police made visits in an attempt to find out how I knew that his mother died, and Mom decided that life would be more peaceful in Ohio.

Define peaceful.

She scolded me frequently on my telling Randy about his mother's death, but it couldn't be helped. It was so sudden I couldn't help it.

After we moved, she decided to devote her time to training me with my talents. She wasn't as much help as she hoped, since my gift was more advanced, but it did help me suppress unpleasant things.

It was difficult walking through the park, and seeing someone who was going to die the next day but not being able to warn them. I would look into that person's face, knowing my own was a mask of sorrow and think 'I will never see this person again.' I wanted to help these people. I wanted it more than anything else. The passion was so strong that even my own mother could feel it whenever I returned home with a tear streaked face.

Time passed by slowly, as did the years. His face continued to mature, giving way to his natural beauty. I tried describing him to my Mom once, but failed to find the right words to describe my intense attraction toward him. It was much more than a crush… we were like magnets, in a way. I couldn't be too sure. He probably didn't even know I existed. I would spend my whole life, obsessing over the face of my soul mate, while he lived and had his happily ever after.

I could only hope that he'd wait for me… and that he lived on the same continent that I did, and the same time period.

Listening to my Mother's theories had my head spinning. What if I were seeing my soul mate, but he was now an old man? What if he lived during the Civil War? On the other hand, what if he lived somewhere in Australia, while I sat trapped in America? It was too much to think about, so I repeated my old schedule and focused on schoolwork.

I would find him someday.

I swore it.

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End Chapter

Okay, so I generally thought all this was crap. It was actually a spur-of-the-moment type deal here. I swore that I'd put one story on fictionpress and this is the one that popped into my head today. I only hope that someone liked it.

Avani is an Indian name and it means 'Mother Earth'. I used that because her Mom is a psychic and into spiritualism and stuff like that and it felt fitting. I couldn't give her a name like Helen.

I think that's it. If you have a heart, PLEASE REVIEW otherwise I might cry. Seriously. I need to know if I'm wasting my time or not.

Random Quote: "Character is what you are when no one else is looking"