The Willows (book three)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6-Ocean’s POV:

The days quickly pass since the attack in the alley. I've tried so hard to find the courage to talk to the boys that saved me, but I just couldn’t. I'm scared to and the more I think about it the more I doubt myself of the decision. 

I decide to find out for about my unnatural gift of healing myself. To experiment on the gift. I hold the sewing needle in my hands, gently between the pads of my fingers. I run my finger under water for a minute I walk into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I sit on the mattress cross legged still holding the silver needle, my palms getting sweaty. I have to do it fast before I think too much like I always do. I place the sharp end of the needle to my index finger. My heart is beating rapidly as I aply pressure to the skin, the needle breaks the surface of my skin, the pain stinging the more pressure I put on it. Deep red blood oozes from the cut on my finger and I set the needle down. I take a piece of tissue and wipe away the drop of blood. I channel my thoughts and wishes and hope that the cut would go away. I'm eager for the blood to stop and the stinging pain to heal. After a matter of seconds the stinging simmers like the first time. I look at the small cut and it closes from one end to another, it forms a scar that fades quickly to my natural shade of skin. 

It's real. I am capable to heal myself from an open wound. I don’t know if I'm going to share this secret with anyone, I'm not sure if I'm going to tell Anne or Gemma. Maybe I should keep this to myself, I don’t know what will happen if I tell them and I'm afraid to know.

I look at the picture frame where the unknown boy and I stand. I'm just as eager to know who he is as I'm eager to know my own life story for the truth no one is telling me, and this boy may be a piece to the information I need.

I open the frame, gently I take it from it's casing and put it in my jacket pocket like all the times I go downtown. I pull on my shoes and walk downstairs, taking Gemma’s keys and driving downtown again.

There is something about the house that I find so stressful. Something about the walls that stare right at me, something about the flooring as I wait for it to break under my weight. The ceiling and the way it taunts me from above.

I park the car somewhere on the street in front of an antique shop and walk the rest of the way. The grey sky looks like it was going to rain soon so I can’t take long out here. I stroll passed a restaurant and peer inside, the blonde boy from the previous night a few days ago wipes off an empty table inside. He's clad in a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the shirt tucked in black slacks and he wore a black tie with dress shoes.

The curiostiy bites at me and I find myself walking inside the fancy front glass doors. A young lady at the front pedestal greets me with a smile, “Would you like a table?” She inquires in a friendly voice, “Sorry I just came to see my friend.” She nods and let me pass. I walk around the restaurant trying the find the blonde haired boy. I finally spot him on the other side of the dark bar cleaning out a glass cup before placing it with others.

I sit down on one of the stools and lean my elbows on the bar. He stands in front of me, back turned to me as he puts away clean wine glasses. He doesn’t turn around yet so I cough into my hand once to get his attention. He glances over his shoulder at me then freezes. I remain silent. He turns to me, staring at my face with his shining blue eyes. The same vivid hallucination appears like the last time. A small snowflake flutters down beside him and lands on the bar, melting on the warm wood and into oblivion. 

I look back up at him not saying anything, but it looks like he is about to as his lips part and his voice speaks through.

“What are you doing here?” He says glancing around the restaurant, “Whats your name?” I ask him, he takes a step towards me, “Niall.” He replies, it's familiar to my ear and it fit him perfectly, “Niall, I wanted to talk to you about someone.” He stiffens a bit and steps forwards again. I reach in my pocket and pull out the photograph, I set it on the bar and slide it in front of him. He put his hands on the bar leaning into them. He smiles at the photo and gave a breathy laugh,