It's fate that they found each other. Indigos are naturally drawn to one another through the threads of destiny. And for Hemlock Godfree, that's exactly what he is... an Indigo. Even if he doesn't know it yet. As a part time ghost hunter and full ti...
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Two Months Ago, late August
Brigid tied up her long saffron colored hair behind her head, securing it into place with a fallen twig from a crab apple tree. Strands of it still fell around her face as she bent down to grab her basket of fruit. The sun was just starting to rise, and the earth was damp with morning dew that the fog had left behind. The morning was so still that Brigid could hear the nearby creek flow over rocks and the tree branches start to stretch towards the dawning sun. Meadowlarks awoke, letting out songs that echoed down the mountainside and into the canyon. The orchard was filled with fresh bright red apples, but while they were no bigger than a walnut, they would make excellent tart sweet jelly. She had gotten up around 3am, after a fitful night of sleep. Something in the pit of her stomach had been growing, and along with it, her Gift. It not only scared her, but it stirred things inside of her that made the world even more terrifying. Some nights she would wake up at the foot of her bed, leaning against the old Victorian steam trunk that resided there. Inside... was something that made her skin crawl.
When she was born, Brigid had a caul over her face; a thin extra layer of skin, which had covered both her eyes and mouth. Her birth mother, Bernadette, was extremely superstitious and preserved the caul, keeping it in a jar of formaldehyde. While her meth-head of a father could care less who she was, her mother's theory had been, if Brigid never encountered it, she would never give in to Satan's temptations of sorcery and evil. Before family services moved her out of her mom's home, and into foster care, Brigid had stolen the jar, which had been hidden in the basement, along with her daycare paintings of aliens, talking trees, and faeries; things she had seen while walking through the park, on the playground, or simply in the backyard. From an early age... coincidences would happen to Brigid. And sometimes, she would make these things happen. She had been extremely bullied in elementary school for her weight and those boys who picked on her would randomly go missing for the day afterwards. But then, they were found, dazed, and miles out of town with no memory of how they had gotten there. Brigid told herself she had done it, because she had willed them to disappear. She had been beaten, stoned, and cornered by girls from church who swore they saw her levitate in her seat when she was nervous during tests. She had always been an odd child, but it was never her fault.
When she was allowed to read, which was scarce under the care of her abusive foster parents, she found out why this was all happening to her. It was said that those who were born with such skin over the eyes, were destined to be mediums, seers, and conduits. Being born with a caul usually signified that the child would be a psychic, a witch, or have special abilities. She didn't understand the power of the caul, but she knew that ever since it had come into her possession, things she had kept buried deep inside were reborn. Was it the caul itself? Or the idea that it was associated with such powerful notions? She had communication with the dead, had the feeling of the life force of all plants and animals, saw visions of things that had not yet come to pass, had influence over the natural elements, and gazed at faces and bodies within the bark and leaves of trees. Whatever she was, Brigid had tried to accept it... even if it scared her. But still, there were parts of her mind that she felt were yelling at her, screaming, subconsciously... saying that she was going to hell, or that she was foreshadowed a life of torment and pain. A wanderer.
