Obscuria

Chapter Five - Your Secret Is Out

My entire body stiffens, Alma observing the scene, and to get out of confrontation, I have no choice but to draw out the lie.

"I- I was just phoning my sister again," I stammer. "I was apologising to her for arguing with her yesterday. It turns out she didn't take my shirt after all. I swear, I'm not seeing ghosts."

There's the magic word: ghosts. Good going, Misty. Crow's gonna see right through you now.

"You're not a very good liar," he comments. "Listen, I was there on the field, okay? During your meltdown or breakdown or whatever you want to call it, you were crying over seeing people who, in your words, aren't there. Correct?"

"I- I don't know," I say in a half-truth. "I was sort of dissociated through most of it. Not really in my body."

"Well, Everly and I had our suspicions," Crow continues. "We guessed you were either just psychotic, or something completely different." He sits himself down on a step. "You ought to know, Misty, we're not just a foster home."

"Okay, yeah, I get it, you're professional psychologists," I say sarcastically. "You're gonna keep your little secrets from me and then ship me off to a crazy house."

"Misty," Crow says seriously, not taking any of my sarcasm. "That's the furthest thing from true. I know this might be a shock to you, but we're not what you think we are. We're called the Supernatural Settlement. A home designed for children who were turned away or attacked for who we are. We live here because it's safer than the world outside."

"What?" I can only laugh.

"Every one of us has at least one supernatural power or curse. We've all read The Encyclopedia of Magick at least once, and we even annotate it and correct the outdated information. It was just obvious, Misty, no offence. We supernaturals can recognise each other from a mile away, and we suspect you might be a psychic."

I freeze from the absurdity - or at least, I think that's why I freeze. I can't even trust my own thoughts anymore.

"You're mental," I tell him. "Even if psychics were real, I couldn't be one. I can't read minds or see the future or see people's auras or anything! I just see people who aren't there!"

"That's called necromancy," he says blankly. "It's still a psychic ability. So you're still psychic. Or, if you want an edgier label, call yourself a necromancer."

I can't be dealing with this shit.

"You're sort of like me, really," he says slowly. "I'm a witch, but I have the same psychic ability as you as well. I can sense and communicate with spirits. Like Alma."

Now that he mentions it, I do remember Alma mentioning having conversations with a boy. Talking to him to keep herself sane. And that at first, he didn't believe he could see her either. But how do I know I'm not just hallucinating Crow as well? That he's not just my first opaque hallucination? But no, that can't be. Everyone else interacts with him. Everly, Piper, Mona, Ambrosius: they've all acknowledged him in one way or another.

"Okay, just-" I say, my mind freaking out. "What? Excuse me? I come into your fancy magic cottage and you tell me I'm a - what is it - necromancer on the second day of knowing me? And what- If I'm really a psychic then why don't I have all those other powers, like reading minds and stuff? Can you explain that to me, Mr. Magic Genius?"

"I don't know why, Misty. Personally, I inherited the ability."

I let out a sigh in a desperate attempt to calm down.

Supernatural. Psychic. Inherited.

But it can't be.

And yet, I almost believe him. Almost.