The Clairvoyant

Chapter One: It Always Comes Down to Sex

     It always comes down to sex, Mary Ripley thought as she pretended to write down the long story her youthful clients were telling her. Really she was just drawing. Doodling out one of the many visions she had seen in her dreams.

   "So you're saying that you were... participating in an activity in the bedroom when the  hallway light flickered?"

   "Yes!" Squeaked Marjorie Jones, a college student who had booked an appointment with her boyfriend, Bobby, to see Mary and ask for guidance.

   Mary just sighed. She had to act like she took these two kids seriously. They were paying her quite a large sum that would cover most of her rent. If she humored them enough, they might refer someone to her who actually had a ghost problem.

  The minute she stepped into their house, she knew there was not another presence living with them. But she had to give them a show anyway. Sadly, the poor wide eyed kids would believe it.

   "Let me contact the spirit."

    "Please do!" Bobby was too excited for his own good.

    Mary closed her eyes and spread her hands. "Oh spirit in this house, I command thee to leaveth this happy couple! Go and passeth onwards, to the light!" She opened her eyes and lowered her hands. "Okay. There ya go. But I also recomend changing that lightbulb. Immediately."

   The things some people believed. The things others didn't. Oh this occupation was exhausting.

   "Did it mean anything that it made the light flicker while we both were really... getting dirty?"

                          ⭐

   Mary stretched out in her office chair. It was nine o'clock at night, and she had just arrived back home from her shift at the diner. Her feet ached from those ridiculous heels Barney made the waitresses wear. Black t-straps with stilettos. Stripper meets 1950's housewife. She yanked the fake pearls off of her neck and slid off her fishnet stockings.

     Sekhmet, Mary's cat, a black Manx jumped up onto her lap, purring.

   "Mmm, hello sweetie. I'm happy that you are at least glad to see me." She kissed the top of the cat's head. "Are you hungry, Sek?" She asked. Sekhmet released a very long, very loud meow.

     "Okay, kitty food time."

   Mary stood, cradling her black cat in her arms and walked to the kitchen. She let Sek go and grabbed a can of wet food from the cabinet. She was just reaching for the can opener when she dropped the food. It rolled across the floor with a loud thud and continuous scratching sound, before settling down by the stove. Sekhmet looked up at her mistress with annoyed eyes. It was going to take her that much longer to pick the food up and feed her.

   But Mary was now leaning over the counter, breathing heavily. Someone was going to call her tonight, regarding something important.

   Shitbiscuits. She didn't know when.

   She wasn't sure if knowing the future was part of her... gift. She wasn't even sure if she knew the future, or if it could be called that. But every so often she would predict things, little things, yes, lacking in detail and scene, but things nonetheless.

   She went back to feeding her cat.

   Exactly five seconds after Sekhmet took the first bite, Mary's phone rang.

   "Mary Ripley, speaking, how may I help you?"

   "Ms. Ripley?" Asked a man with an intense southern accent. Her name came out Miz Riplay.

   "Yes? This is she." I just told you that.

  "Hello, I'm Sheriff Taylor -"
Is this Mayberry? Mary hadn't noticed, she was too busy busting ghosts. "I'm the chief of police, and I... have come to an unfortunate... issue. I can't seem to solve this issue, and my team has come to a dead end. We are willing to supply you with anything you need, but only if you can confirm that you can, in fact help us."

   "Well Sheriff Taylor, why don't you tell me the issue so that I can tell you whether or not I can help?"

   "Right. Uh... have you heard of the Greenville House?"

    Dear Lord. Mary just about dropped the phone.

----------------Flashback-------------------

    "MOMMY! MOMMY NO!" The little blonde haired girl screamed as a man and woman in white uniforms carried her away from her mother, who stood outside their little white house with a smile on her face and rosarie beads in hand.

"Mommy," the little girl cried, "Please don't let them take me!"

   Her mother turned around and raised her hands to the house, as if trying to give it an airhug.

   "Oh Great and Holy God, and in the name of our merciful savior Jesus Christ, I ask you to cleanse this house, now that it has been rid of it's demon."

  The little girl was put in the back of a white van. She continued to scream. "Mommy! I'll stop seeing things! I lied, I don't see anything! Please, Mommy!"

   But her mother did not hear her.

   However the boy across the street did.

  The girl cried as the van started and drove away. She didn't understand what was so wrong with her. Why whatever it was was wrong. She only was sure of one thing: her mother feared it. She'd been sent away because of it.

    She peered out the iron barred window of the van, after a few minutes. They were driving through a place she had never been. A little residence up on a hill. It was not their destination. But the girl knew she would go there one day.

   The house they passed was covered in green ivy. It had green shutters, a wild, overgrown lawn and garden, and there was something undeniably evil about the property. The little girl could sense it, even from the road. There was an immense power in that house. It was so strong and powerful that it made her feel strong and powerful. She could feel the sensations, the energy coursing through her veins. It was inviting something and asking her to invite and welcome it. But in her innocent heart, she knew it was wrong and gave no answer.

   As they passed the house, she saw an old white sign on the corner of the lawn. In green letters it read, 'The Greenville House."

------------- End of flashback ------------

   Mary's hand shook and she swallowed hard. This was her future. What she felt. It was inevitable. One way or the other, it was where she would end up.

   Finding her nerve, which luckily was never far, she answered Sheriff Taylor, her voice strong and sure.

  "Yes, I know what The Greenville House is."

   Sekhmet whined. She probably wanted Mary to change her water. For the third time that day.