Forced Into Insanity

Chapter 10: The Psychic

— Francesca —

I haven't been to a coffee shop in ages. I only realise this as I'm walking by my favourite pawn shop, lingering on this one beautiful necklace, it's beaded from start to finish with these beautiful, brown, rustic looking jewels embedded in a gold frame. I should probably save up to get it but it will probably be sold out by them.

Oh well, next time then.

I continue walking around the town shops and push past the door to an electronics store. I buy what I need and wave the store owner goodbye, they're lovely people. I open my new headphones, opting for putting on some music and walk to work.

—~~~—

— Oliver —

I haven't had a good rest in ages. I wake up to find myself kneeled over my desk with my head in my arms. What happened? Did I get hung over? I hope not. I'm not a drinker so it wouldn't make much sense for me to have been hung over; As I'm pondering this, my eyes land on a section of red string on my arm.

Fran.

She operated on me, but how? When?

She did a phenomenal job, though. The stitching is clean, barely affected by the scar tissue underneath, no bleeding too.

Well done, love.

Love? Why did I call Fran 'love'?

I realise I feel a bit empty, almost like I'm missing something. Is it bad that I kind of miss Fran's presence? I'm losing my mind. Get it together, Oliver.

You have classes.

Land them all in detention.

No, do your job, Oliver.

—~~~—

I go to exit the school and bump into the one and only Francesca Heart. She seems just as surprised as I am and it honestly makes me want to laugh. Her tiny figure always surprises me especially now that we're this close to one another. I feel strange, not bad, but definitely new, I feel a sense of happiness, or is it relief? I guess it's both.

I realise I'm just standing there.

My face flushes at the thought.

"I..I uh- I'm sorry I'll let you go now, sorry for the trouble." Why am I stuttering? What has gotten into you, Feurn?
"It's fine." She grins at me and walks past. I turn to leave but I hear her shout something back at me.
"Have a great day!"
"Thank you." I shout back, trying to be polite. It's not exactly polite to shout at people but what else could I have done? Forget it.

I'm walking past my favourite shops, the coffee shop and the local pawn shop. It's a tiny establishment but they have great taste. I eye a gold necklace with brown beads, perhaps I should get Fran a gift. She is my friend after all, maybe I could show her my favourite coffee shop as well. That sounds pretty fun to me.

It's a plan, then.

I turn to leave and thank the shop owner.

"What are you doing here?" I question Fran, who I've once again managed to bump into.
"I'm done with work, you?" She answers rather cheerfully.
"That quick? I just left." I look at her, confused.
"I needed to stop by to pickup a few papers. I don't have any actual work today, Thomas is covering all his classes for today." Well that's a relief, then.
"Would you like to visit the coffee shop, then? I was going there anyway." I sound unsure and truthfully, I am. I'm extremely nervous. Fran only nods and we start walking.

I turn to Fran and offer her the gift.
"What's this?"
"A gift. It..reminded me of you, a-as a thank you."
"A thank you for what?" She asks.
"For...everything really." I plunge my hands into my pockets. I see her turn to open the gift, she delicately takes out the wooden box and her eyes go wide, wider than I've ever seen anyway, she turns to me, about to say something. I'm so anxious that I can't even think right now. Is it too little? Too ugly? Too cheap?

It's the necklace.

"Excuse me?" I question her.
She looks at me like I've just gone insane and her face returns to normal in realisation.
"It's beautiful, Oliver."
"Why is it the necklace though?"
"You'll never give up, will you?" She playfully shoves my arm.
"I don't choose to read your thoughts, Fran." She stays silent, pondering something but I decide not to focus on her.
"Have you ever read anyone else's thoughts? Besides me I mean."
"Then yes."
"Who?"
"Katherine and Thomas, maybe I could even read Gabriel if I focus on him hard enough but yeah that's it."
"Why don't you try to use it? It doesn't have to be a bad thing." She looks at me expectantly.

I'm unsure how to respond to this.

"It's raining." She looks up and sure enough, it's raining.
"Well, see you then, Oliver."
"Wait I..my flat is closer. It's the next street over." I look down at my feet as I say this. What has gotten to me? Just let her go home, freak.
"Are you asking me to stay over, Oliver Feurn?" She says this in a softer tone than her normal voice. She's leaning close to me. I assume she's going to stay like this until I answer. I look away from her and furrow my brows, pondering how to respond to her.
"I guess so." I say softly.
"Look me straight in the eye and tell me yes or no."

I continue looking off into the distance.

"Then it's a no." She questions me. I look back at her.
"It's not a no?" She tries to read my face.
"It isn't." I say meekly.
"Then let's go, it's raining pretty hard." She rushes me. I immediately grab her wrist and pull her towards her car. She's going to get soaked if I don't do something. Her top seems pretty lightweight, if it gets wet it might show through. I take off my jacket and place it atop her shoulders.
"Who drives?" I ask.
"You." She replies.
We get into the car and take a breather. I'm trying to steady myself so I can drive with a clear mind. Focus, Oliver. I look over to check on Fran.

She's shivering.

I look back to the driver's wheel, concerned. How do I get her to stop shivering? Turn on the heater, so I do. Alright, what else? Get her home. I start the engine and begin driving.

She collapses onto my lap. I decide to let it go and just get us home.

—~~~—

— Francesca —

I wake up on a couch. What the hell? I look to the nearby window and see that it's raining hard. I don't recognise the place as my own though. The kitchen has tinted cabinets and stained oak countertops. The strong vanilla scent hits my senses.

My eyes widen in realisation.

I've been here before.

Oh god what am I doing here? I tug at the blanket covering me. Oh god, oh god.

The memories flood back into my mind more vividly than ever.

I tilt my head to the side expecting to cast my eyes on my kitchen. I'm greeted with a foreign kitchen, one nothing like my own; tinted cabinets and stained oak filling the space.

"You alright, Love?"
"Who's place is this, Oliver?"

Mine. The fuck has gotten to you, Fran?

"The fuck has gotten into me? The fuck has gotten into you!"

"You read me?" Oliver asks in a tone I've never heard from him before. He sounds astonished, taken off guard.

"I guess I did, Love."