Installment 27

"Ok... let's start with something simple. Ever seen a ghost?"
I shook my head and smirked a little.
"Ever... had a premonition."
I stared at him for a moment, still smirking, but slowly my face fell as a long forgotten memory returned to me.
"Yes, I have. I'd forgotten.
"I was only 13 or so. A group of us used to hang out in the woods. We'd built a rope swing over the river. It was so high; it kind of felt like you were flying. Leon was in the Sea Scouts and knew a lot about knots, so he climbed up and tied the rope. That first time, when he jumped out across the river, none of really, truly believed it was going to hold, but it did. We had a broom handle that someone had cut in half as a seat and we'd take it in turns to try to go higher and further. We spent hours pretty much every day that summer, just swinging across the river.
"Then one night, I had a nightmare... or... a kind of waking dream, I'm not sure. I felt like I was awake, but I suddenly had all these feelings. It wasn't so much a vision as hearing and feeling something. There were screams and just the most painful terror I have ever experienced. I knew that something bad was going to happen. So, the next day, we went off to the woods, and I really wanted to say something, I really did, but... well, I was afraid they'd laugh at me. It seemed stupid, so I didn't tell anyone.
"Someone had sawn into the branch. The found it later and it was smoothly cut halfway, then broken and splintered the other half. Someone did that.
"Leon was in a coma for 7 months. It was a miracle he survived. They say the chances of waking up after more than a few weeks are..." I waved my hand. I couldn't remember the statistic.
For the first time since I started speaking, I looked over at the man. He looked bored; like he didn't believe me, or like he was waiting for me to say something interesting.
I coughed quietly and continued, "He's ok now. I mean, he can't walk without sticks, but he's... well, he's ok. I told him once. I felt so guilty for having let him get on the swing when I knew something bad was going to happen. He didn't believe me. He said, 'Memory's a funny thing. It so often gets mixed up with hindsight'." I shrugged, "I know I didn't get it mixed up. I know what I felt. I remember the dread as we walked to the woods," I paused, waiting for him to say something. He didn't.
I took a deep breath and said, "I haven't spoken about that in, what, 15 years, maybe more."
"Ok, well how did you do that?"
I looked at him quizzically, "Do what?"
"Have the premonition. How did you do it?"
"I... I don't know."
"How can you not know?"
"I didn't mean to do it. I'm not sure I did do it. It just kinda happened."
He stood up and picked up one of the empty beer bottles onto the bed, "Well, what use is a power if you can't control it? Or even re-create it? You're useless to me!"
"I... I don't know... it only happened that one time. I had forgotten all about it."
"Well, of course you had! Guilt like that? Either you're strong and you learn to control and use your power, or you're weak and you just repress the memory and any further premonitions, and you are weak," he almost spat out the words.
"I didn't mean to. I don't know why you're so angry with me. It's not my fault," I could tell as the words left my mouth that this would not placate him. My voice had become a high pitched whine and I was now even irritating myself.
"You don't know why I'm angry? I'm angry because you have what's mine and you have the power to help me take it back, but you're too weak to do it. They told me that you could do this and brought me here and you're nothing. Just a chancer. A fucking mortal chancer, with your sob-story about how you could have saved your friend but did nothing to learn to use that power. You just hid from it, feeling sorry for yourself, never thinking that you may be able to use it to do great things. You're a wasted opportunity. Nothing more."

I could feel tears streaming down my face as I stared at him, wide-eyed. I let them fall; made no attempt to hide them. What was there to hide? There was my whole life boiled down into two words. My gravestone could read "Fiona Barnes - 1981-whenever - Wasted Opportunity".

And then suddenly, I felt a rush of calm run through me. My muscles relaxed and I let out a sigh which seemed to rid my body of all the anxiety. I felt... loved. I think I smiled; I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed. I thought I heard him say something as I fell asleep. I thought I heard him say, "That's my girl."