Burn My Paranoia One Last Time

5. Madam Vadoma

"It's from yesterday, isn't it," Carmen murmured, clutching the gold cross around her neck nervously.

"You were scratching at your face real desperately Amb," Shelby gulped.

Amber stared at the wooden table hard before looking back up at her friends. "I thought I was going to die. It's hard to explain.. but it's like," she closed her eyes and rubbed her head.

Shelby and Carmen exchanged a sympathetic glance, waiting for their friend to go on.

"I was panicking, but I couldn't even pinpoint the reason. The only way.. that was the only way I thought I could get rid of it, at least at that moment."

"That sounds terrible. I'm really sorry, Amb," Shelby apologized.

"It's the risk we had to take. Anyway, Carmen what was your dream?"

Carmen paused, recalling the odd vividness of the night before. "I don't think it's that important."

"Carmen, please." It was rare for Amber to pester or beg, so Carmen finally complied.

"Fine," she sighed. "I think I may have knocked out of fright, FYI. I dreamt that I snuck out late at night, hopped into a friend's limo, and went to some kind of underground punk club. Gosh," she laughed in disbelief, "I don't know what the heck we were wearing. Looked like something my mom would wear. People were dancing really weird and bumping around in some kind of circle. It totally looked like a cult to me."

"Was that all?" Shelby's eyes twinkled with curiosity.

"Yeah, that was pretty much it. I told you it wasn't that important," Carmen took a bite of the mozzarella stick that had been tempting her this whole time.

Suddenly, someone slid away her tray.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Guys," Shelby announced. "There's someone you have to meet."

***

"You do know that the majority of fortune tellers are frauds, right?" Amber questioned her friend dubiously as they walked down a street full of small businesses after school.

"Duh! But this one's not a fraud, trust me," Shelby spun around and led the group as she blew some bright pink gum.

"Tss, says who?" Carmen scoffed, crossing her arms over her pastel rose-colored button-up cardigan and surveying a mural of graffiti on the wall beside her.

"Says ME. I've gone to her before to get my tarot cards read, and her interpretations haven't been wrong before."

"If you say so," Carmen finally submitted. A sudden wave of apprehension washed over her as they approached an apartment with multiple teenage guys hanging out on the front door steps.

Some were shirtless with tattoos. Others wore graphically inappropriate t-shirts along with sagging trousers. The smell of tobacco permeated the air around them. They radiated energy you didn't want to mess with.

A loud whistle followed by some risqué comments caught the girls' attention as they walked past.

"Damn girl, look at them legs! She's thick as hell!"

Carmen cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she turned away, quickly speeding up her pace.

"Wooh, man, look at the size of those ti-"