Eliora (boyxboy)

Sound frequency.

Frequencies are the worst part of my ... gift.

It's like a short circuit in my brain, and everything just comes down crashing. Caspain had theorized that it was my brain's way of telling me it'd had enough, that I needed to do something about it soon. I never bothered to tell him that the frequencies had been happening since before I could remember. They were the worst part of all ... this.

I'd come to calling them frequencies, because it felt like a radio shuffling between different stations at once, and all the radio voices, and the sounds, all mix together until it's just a hot white, ear piercing sound frequency. It doesn't make sense, I know, I've never gotten it either, much less trying to explain it.

Sometimes, my visions hit like a tsunami. A huge tidal wave that never stops. I have vision after vision, every night, and day, and I can barely take a break from it. When that happens, I usually stay in my dorm, alone, surrounded by countless notebooks, and papers so as not to stain the walls.

Then, the visions would stop. Completely. And my brain would feel empty, and fuzzy for a few days before another wave hit. This time, the wave would just be voices, and screams, sometimes a mesh of passing visions all blurred together it feels like a frequency. That's the worst bit. When that happens, I can barely stand up straight, moreover, even open my eyes.

This time though, after that single vision I had the other day, the frequencies hit as soon as I'd woken up the next day. Not as severe as they usually are, more like whispers of what I'd seen in that vision, like my brain didn't want to forget, like I absolutely had to remember what I saw.

Usually, I'm not able to attend classes, but I'd been able to  open my eyes today, and even eat breakfast, with only mild grimaces every now and then, when a frequency happened. Caspain had looked worried, like usual, but him and I hadn't talked about it yet, so he hadn't said anything, just conversed with Robin, and only stared wearily at me from his peripheral.

"Raven!"

I flinched, snapping my head up. Uncle Luca had a frown on his face, his eyes shifted over my face, probably taking in the purple bags under my eyes, and the pale skin of my cheeks. He pulled his lips into a thin line.

"Raven ..." He hesitated, and I sighed.

"Yeah. I know." I looked like shit.

He opened his mouth, and closed it again, his brows furrowing deeper on his forehead. He stared at me before he spoke again. "Have you been getting any sleep?"

I shrugged, and he sighed. We sat in silence. me staring out the window, and him burning a hole on the side of my face.

I almost didn't hear him when he spoke again, his voice soft, and hesitant. "Y-Your dad's been calling."

I fought the urge to scoff. "Yeah, I haven't answered."

He nodded. "Yeah, I figured." He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Your, uh--mom's out of rehab."

I didn't know she'd been there in a the first place. Uncle Luca hated my parents as much as I did. Him, and dad never got along. And I'd been surprised that dad had swallowed what little pride he had and asked Luca if I could attend Kingston. Uncle Luca had agreed immediately, and as soon as I'd been dropped at the gates of the castle, I knew that I'd never see my parents again. Not that I minded much. Even at eleven years old, I'd known my parents were a bunch of twats.