Short Stories of my OC

I Read Minds. But This Time, You Read Mine

I read minds. No, I'm not some freaky voodoo or do weird gypsy shit to see what you're thinking. I actually read minds, without any specific ritual to perform. I just look at people and that's pretty much. I've been doing this since I was seven. Tragic experiences come with this power. I can read what people are feeling, how they feel about other people, what they are going to do, even what they are reading on a paper or a book. I found this out when my parents wanted a divorce. (They re-married by the way.)

I was waiting in bed for a goodnight kiss from my mom and dad. I was smart enough to tell how long an hour was, and when an hour passed my bedtime, I decided to go see my parents myself. They weren't sitting next to each other, in fact, my mom was watching my dad grab a pillow and blanket to sleep on the couch. For those of you who don't know, when the husband sleeps on the couch, it usually means that the wife is mad and refuses to sleep in the same bed as her husband for the night. Anyway, I took a long look at my mom, and words appeared out of nowhere. They read, "We are getting the divorce papers tomorrow." I looked at my dad, the same words were coming out of his head. Sure enough, when I got home from school the next day, I looked on the counter that read, 'Divorce for the Sheers'.

Ever since then I always knew what people were thinking. Especially for tests and crushes. I've helped friends get together with other people, and I have also had some heartbreaks myself. Never had a boyfriend in my life, mainly because guys thought I was weird. Not kidding, that's what they were thinking. You would think that I became a therapist for a living. Nah! I'm just a street photographer, I'm not into those fancy photography set-ups that they do for models and all that crap.

I set out every afternoon to take pictures in Central Park. Today I was assigned to take pictures of the Alice in Wonderland sculpture that was there. There were lots of parents with their kids there, and those kids were climbing up and down on the sculpture. I looked at a mother, she was thinking, "We need to go. I am not about to be late for work again." After that, I heard her yell. "Christine! Come on, we got to go sweetie or mommy is going to be late for work!" A little girl with a brown ponytail came running down from the mushroom and grabbed her mother's hand. I took out my camera and started to take pictures, I took it from all different angles, some with a close up of Alice's face. I even took a picture of the quote that was imbedded in the ground. Just when I thought the day was going swell, a strong breeze suddenly picked up and blew all my pictures in my bag away.

I ran after them, trying to pick one up that was very important to me. It was a gorgeous picture of a sun shining on a beautiful couple that shared a kiss. It was my favorite, everyday I would look at it wondering if that was ever going to be me someday with somebody I love. One of the pictures hits a man behind his hand, he was tall. Probably at least 1 1/2" taller than me. His hair was dark, really dark. His shirt was a flannel with a combination of green and white, with that he wore a grey beanie and black jeans. It seemed that he was a photographer too because he had camera with a strap and an album sticking out of his bag. He puts his hand behind his head and feels the paper, only to realize that I was trying to get my blown away papers. I didn't even have to ask, and before you know it, he was already helping get the papers back. Once we gathered them all up he handed them to me but, before he did, he took a slight pause to look at the photos. "Nice work." He says, sill looking down at the photo. "Maybe you can give me some tips?"

"Always shoot from the right angle that makes your target look gorgeous." I reply.

"Can I try it on you? The wind has calmed down to a nice little breeze."

I nod. I give a big smile with my fingers up by my face in a peace position. I hear the snap in the camera go off five times. He shows me the picture and it was amazing, my hair was being blown by the breeze so perfectly like you would see in a movie. The lighting came from the right side of my face and brightened up my smile. "You did a great job!"

"Thanks. Kind of new at this."

"Really? Well then, pretty amazing for a newbie."

"Heh, yeah I guess. Here, uh, let's go sit. I think you might need to after the whole 'papers being blown away' incident."

"You said it." We walked over to a bench that looked out into a large lake.

When we sat down, we didn't talk, we just sat there and enjoyed the view. It was beautiful, pigeons flying across the bright blue sky, and the water glistening off the Sun's light. I took out my camera and shot a picture of the sight. The picture was great for the first time shooting it. I thought I couldn't get another picture like this. It was getting really hot though, I could use a cold Starbucks drink.

"Alright, what do you want?" I hear Peter say.

"Huh?"

"What kind of Starbucks drink do you need me to get you, I was just about to go get some myself."

"Um, Java Chip. How did you know I wanted Starbucks?"

"I read your mind, it's a gift."

When I looked at him, words popped out of his head that said, "I'm so glad I'm not the only one this time." I smiled. "I'm glad I'm not the only one either."

"What's your name?"

"Can't you just read my mind to figure that out?"

"Nah, too lazy too. So please, tell me your name."

"Cameron Sheer. Photography is my passion, and my job."

"Getting fancy with introductions, are we?" He stands up and bows like a gentlemen. "I am Peter. Peter Kenway. Photography is my hobby, and my job is a historical professor."

"Nice to meet you Peter." I say giggling.

"Same to you, Miss Sheer."

He was flirting with me, right? We had only just met but, he's already making me blush. Peter and I get up and walked over to the Starbucks. I got my drink, he got his, and we both sat at a small table outside. We discussed pictures, cameras, especially the polaroid. We talked about everything. Then Peter spoke. "So, you wanna hang tonight?"

"Sure, my place?"

"Sounds great, I'll bring some photos I took."

"Alright then. Here's my address." I hand him my address and we both head our separate ways.

A few hours pass by as I sit in my apartment, I think about how this night will go, and I'm glad to find someone that has the same gift as me. I hear a knock on my door. I open it and there he is, Peter, wearing the same outfit he wore when we met, along with a photo album. He stepped into my apartment and we sat at the dining table. Those hours with him were amazing. I found someone to share my gift with, I found someone that was about to change my life forever.