The Secret Gift

"Mom, I'm going out!" I hollered down the hall.

"Wait, where are you going?" She shouted back as she started descending down the front stairs.

"With Alyssa to go shopping for theatre costumes! Remember?" I replied. I grabbed my jacket and my purple striped bag. "The theatre play is just next weekend and we don't have our costumes yet." I snatched my keys from the hook by the door and I walked briskly outside into the chilly morning air. Just before the door slammed shut I heard my mother shout something that sounded like not to be out for to long.

"Burr" I shivered as I zipped up my jacket and jumped into my blue pick up truck. I put the keys into ignition and blasted the heat. I pulled out of the driveway and began my journey to Alyssa's house. "Ugh, I am going to be late." I sped up a little faster and took a sharp left turn into her neighborhood which was only a street away from mine. As I pulled into her drive way Alyssa came out of her garage and hurried to the passenger seat.

"Wow, it is cold!" She said as she flicked on her seat warmer.

"Even for Boston," I replied. "Come on turn on some real tunes, not this old lady jam you have on!" she mocked.

"So, where do you have in mind for us to go?" I asked.

"There's this new thrift store just on the way to town. A lot of kids in our play went and said it had good costume supplies." Alyssa said.

"Oh, thrift stores clothes are already used, doesn't that, like, creep you out a bit?" I whispered. Alyssa shook her head no in reply. The rest of the ride we sat in silence as a whirlwind of thoughts zoomed through my head. I hate using used things. Just like people, everything has a past, a story to it. It just so happens that I have this strange ability. I had learned about it back when I was five. Whenever I touch something I can feel the essence of its past, whether the story behind it is good or bad. When I was five I visited a museum on famous wars in history. Looking at one of the exhibits artifacts I accidentally brushed it with the tips of my fingers. The pain of death, heart break, and despair was so powerful I nearly fainted. I have learned to be careful when using others things. I felt a hand shaking my shoulder vigorously,

"earth to Clary!" Alyssa said. " we're here!". We jumped out of the car and hurried into the shop. A bell rang as we entered causing an older lady to look up from something she was knitting.

"Hello, dears," she greeted us quietly. I nodded and smiled at her and stuck my hands in my pocket. Alyssa was already going up and down the clothing isles. I followed behind her and every now and then she would whip around and hold a dress or fancy shirt up to me. She then would either hang it right back up or add it to the steadily growing pile of clothes on her arm. Each time she held something up to me I would expect the worse. Each time she held something up nothing would happen. After about ten minutes of this Alyssa decided she wanted to check out but just before reaching the checkout she veered toward all the junk in the back of the store.

"Where are you going? The check out counter is that way." I pointed out.

"Look at this doll! It has been completely tormented!" She replied. She was right. The hair of the doll was partially burned off and it was missing a leg an  two fingers on the left hand. It had an eye patch over one eye and the nose was unidentifiable. Alyssa suddenly through toward  me. I reached out to catch it.

As soon as my fingers gripped the world swirled around me and every thing went black.