whispers of amethyst

0197

The number 0197 had been plaguing her for two weeks. Most people saw repeating numbers as angel numbers or signs of good luck, but for her, it was a signal – a wavering case. She liked to call her job missions to make it sound less depressing, but this case... did she even want it? She'd promised herself a break, a normal life for a while, but the big guy upstairs clearly didn't have that in store.

"Amy," the cashier called out. Lost in the sick theories swirling in her head, she hadn't realized where she was. Grabbing her coffee, she mumbled an apology and paid, leaving the change behind.

Living a normal life as a paranormal investigator wasn't easy, but it wasn't like she disliked it. There was a thrill in knowing she was the only one who could do this, a special kind of uniqueness. Not like the ghost hunters or clairvoyants in movies. They weren't entirely wrong, but far from the whole truth.

She'd been able to communicate with spirits since she was nine, a power she'd never understood or embraced. Then, at seven, she learned who she was, and everything became a mess. It was like her life had taken a sharp turn. She understood quickly that her carefree days were over. Great power came with great responsibility, as Uncle Ben would say.

It wasn't all bad though. She'd had support. It started with helping spirits connect with loved ones they couldn't say goodbye to. But by fifteen, she faced her first case. It messed her up so bad she didn't leave her room for two months straight. She remembered Taehyung making a hole in the door to slip food in. It had been a crazy experience.

Movies never showed the reality of handling evil spirits. No one ever did, because they hadn't been on the inside. And frankly, she wasn't sure the world should know this side of evil. It wasn't worth knowing, but someone had to fix it, right?

"0197? I thought you stopped having visions. Wait, does your head hurt like the Indian ghost case? Do you need your crystals?" Taehyung, her best friend who was more like a brother, bombarded her with questions.

"For the love of god, shut up Taehyung," she snapped, frustration building with each passing moment. The numbers were drilling into her brain, a constant echo like the grandfather clock from Stranger Things.

"I don't know exactly what it is yet, it's like there's no spiritual connection yet, but I can sense it's going to happen soon. Weirdly enough, I can't see when."

"I understand," he said, though they both knew he didn't. He'd been there since the beginning of this phase of her life, seen her at her worst, and she knew he understood at least part of it.

He wrapped her in a hug, his comforting scent enveloping her. He was a real teddy bear. When they pulled away, she sensed his sadness.

"Tae, tell me."

"Can you just read my mind? I don't want to say it out loud." She frowned but nodded, taking his hand. Entering his mind was easy, like second nature. He wasn't guarded like her 'clients.' She sifted through his thoughts, the usual chipper Taehyung replaced with a deep, raw grief.

"Oh," she breathed. "Oh my god Tae, I'm so sorry." She quickly pulled him into another hug as he sobbed into her hair. He clung to her so tightly she worried he might hurt her, but she didn't stop him.

"Shh," she soothed, rubbing his back, but it wasn't working. She guided him to the couch and let him use her as a human tissue.

"Do you want to see him?" she asked softly. His head snapped up, a faint neck crack echoing in the silence. She winced in sympathy.

"Are you sure? Won't it hurt you?"

"Does running your restaurant hurt you? It's my job, come on. Get something that belonged to him."