Faithful

Chapter Two

I ignored the first voice, tying desperately to stay asleep for just a few more moments. I couldn’t bear to part with my mother. Not yet. It was so rare that I got to spend time with her. I hardy dreamed about her, yet here she was now, sitting next to me in our beloved car. More yelling interrupted my fuzzy haze and when the yelling died down a little, it took my dream with it. Mums edges slowly started to become fuzzy. The darkening night sky outside my window began to fade away. The angry voice I knew too well smashed through my blissful dream, bringing me back into reality.

"My gosh child! Do you ever listen? I've called your name at least several times!" Screeched my noisy 7th hour English teacher, right into my ear. Because of my heightened hearing, her voice echoed within me, loud enough to make my whole body shake. I woke up with a start, but didn’t open my eyes. I groaned loudly as my ears rang, blindly trying to push her face away from me.

To be honest, I was too scared to open my eyes. Not just because I didn't want the happy memory of my mum to disappear, but also because I didn’t want to give into the emotions rolling off everyone else and into me. When I was asleep, my senses were dulled, muted almost. It was like heaven. But I was already starting to feel what my classmates were. I sighed. It was so overwhelming feeling over twenty different emotions at once.

That may sound strange, but trust me, I’m not crazy. I’m psychic.

I’m what scientists would call an Empath. A psychic Empath takes on other people’s feelings, ranging from pain to pleasure, excitement to fear. A psychic Empath actually feels the emotions of other people. In short, I feel what everyone around me feels. That may sound cool, but it’s not. It’s the complete opposite. Life for me is like an emotional roller coaster.

I wasn’t always like this though. Once upon a time I was a happy, normal teenager who acted like a happy, normal teenager. I used to go to sleepovers, get drunk at parties without my parents knowing, sneak out, have crushes and date people just for the hell of it. I used to live my life in full. I used to have no regrets. Now my life was full of them…

"Faith!! If I have to say your name one more--" My groggy groan cut off her annoying voice, causing a few quiet snickers to spread through the classroom. My breathing was labored, my hair sticking in knotty clumps to the sweat that had broken out across my brow. Just a dream, I told myself sternly. It was just a dream. My heart fell. I had to keep reminding myself that mum was gone now, she wasn’t coming back. Ever.

My teacher clapped her huge, manly hands in front of my face in an attempt to bring me back to reality. I opened one eye, squinting against the harsh light that flooded the room, turning everything around me to gold. I flinched and closed my eye. Too bright. Slowly, I opened them, wincing as the light brought the pounding in my head back. I ground my teeth together, locking my jar tight against the pain.

Why wouldn’t it go away?

I managed to lift my head off the hard table, but only enough to look around at my surroundings. Another burst of snickers travelled around the room. I sent the whole front row a harsh glare, careful not to look anyone in the eye for too long. I wasn’t interested in knowing what they had lied about lately. I was about to give them all the bird, before I was tipped off from some girls head why they were laughing. My chin was wet. I’d been drooling while I slept.

Fabulous.

That’s another thing about me. Not only can I feel their emotions, I can also detect when their lying. All I have to do is look deep into their eyes for a few seconds and a whole slideshow will pass through my brain. It’s like I’m suddenly them, suddenly inside their body. I get taken through all the lies they have told in the last twenty four hours. Again, it may sound cool, but in truth? It’s horrible. It’s not fun knowing when somebody has lied to their parents or their husbands. It’s not nice walking past a 'poor' teenage boy on your way to school, watching countless people hand him money to help him survive, only to find out he isn’t poor at all. I can also read thoughts though. Not always, but sometimes. I don’t exactly know why I can only get a read sometimes and not always. Some days everyone’s thoughts are spread out wide before me, when other days... It’s like someone’s flicked a switch from on to off and then used a lock and key to keep me out.