Foresight: A Superhero Story

3. Alley

I find myself standing in the street a few yards away from the café. I stare into the front windows of The Broken Spoke. It was a charming, but dated space. The interior was still decorated in a distinctive, yet kitschy 1960's style. The small cafe was nearly packed. It had developed an almost cult like following from the city's hipster population.

I stare at the wagon wheel suspended above the entrance. My tattoo is now a mirror image of it. I rub my bare arms as goosebumps spread across my skin. I adjust my polo and purse in my hands, unsure of what to do. I decide to move as the scent of the garbage in the narrow alley beside the café reaches my nose.

What does it mean?

I continue moving forward, stopping just under the sign. The rusty chains that hold the wheel squeak in the wind. I watch the bustling restaurant for a moment before walking down the sidewalk. My thoughts ran glumly through my mind.

Why did I expect to find an answer here? I'm clearly losing my damn mind... Again.

A loud shriek jostled me from my thoughts. I turn around to be nearly taken down by a man in a black hoodie. His shoulder hits mine, turning my body forcefully from the impact. I snap my head in the direction he is running. I can make out an orange purse under his arm as he disappears from view.

I turn back around, searching for the source of the scream. My head whips back and forth as I listen to the night. At first, I cannot hear anything but the bustling café, but as I approach the alley, I can hear someone weeping.

Against my better judgement I chose to enter the dark alley, moving towards the sound of a child crying. In the darkness I can just make out two silhouettes. I see an unconscious woman slumped against the outer wall of the café. Near her is a young girl. I freeze when I notice the blood. I gulp hard before rushing to the woman's side. I can see a large cut running across her abdomen. I hesitate before applying pressure with my crumpled work uniform.

With my free hand I call 911. I give the operator our location and a brief description of what happened. I have to raise my voice to be heard over the hysterical child. I want to comfort her, to tell the child that her mother will be fine, but the words get caught in my throat. I can only stare at her mother's ashen face as we wait for help to arrive.

The police are the first on site. A male officer holds the child while his partner takes over for me. I step back, feeling the shock taking over. I watch through wide eyes as the paramedics arrive. They scoop the woman up as I give my statement.

I am soon left alone in the alleyway. I pick up my soiled uniform top before deciding to leave it in the dirt. I gag, suddenly noticing the blood that coated my hands. I wipe my hands on my pants, desperate to be rid of the ruby red stains.

It's too much. This is all just too much. I take a shaking breath as my heart thuds painfully in my chest. I lean against the opposite wall, slowly sliding to the ground as the full extent of what happened makes my knees buckle. I stay on the ground a while, losing track of time.

The tingling sensation in my shoulder soon returns. The sensation crescendos to an unpleasant sting. I rub my tattoo gently once it begins to burn. I refused to watch it this time. I didn't want to know what monstrosity my tattoo was changing into.

I soon leave the alley, spurred on by the realization that I was sitting in a disgusting place and the familiar, nagging sensation that I wasn't alone. I rush to the bus stop, looking behind me occasionally. I soon board the bus, garnering a few curious looks. To my relief, the other passengers quickly make room for me- no doubt in fear of coming into contact with my bloody outfit.

I sit towards the back, feeling numb. I stare through the window with unseeing eyes as the bus nears my stop. I desperately want to see what my tattoo did, but I resist the urge for a little while longer. Eventually, my curiosity gets the better of me and I turn my head to glance at my tattoo. I look down with a grimace before shaking my head in disbelief.

I really am going crazy... That's it. I'm checking myself into the hospital tomorrow.

On my left shoulder was the familiar tattoo of an intricate dreamcatcher.