Page 1 of Dark Visions (Strange Gifts #1)
Aislinn cursed herself for forgetting her umbrella as she ducked beneath one shop awning and then another, dodging the bone-chilling rain that pelted her face without mercy. She was already twenty minutes late for work, and to top it off, the barista had left her lid slightly askew, causing her to spill the too-expensive latte down the front of her new sweater. A sweater still unpaid for on her American Express card.
The headache, which inevitably came to her a few times a month, was slowly making its way to her frontal cortex. The pain undeniable. Having already been out three times this month for the same issue, she dared not call in, or Mr. Lewis would most certainly terminate her.
Since she was a child, Aislinn Carter found herself plagued by the inexplicable headaches, preparing herself at the first sign of onset. Her parents took her to see the finest neurologists in the country, and when they had no explanations, they took her to every other specialty known to man. The worst were the psychiatrists who were determined to find some deep hidden meaning or secret to the headaches that crippled her body.
Aislinn learned early on that telling anyone about the visions that came with the headaches would only label her, ostracizing her from others, or worse. The mental hospital when she was twelve was a turning point in her ability to cope with the episodes. It was simple. Don’t tell anyone.
The first vision occurred at the tender age of six. She was too young to understand its meaning and too afraid to tell anyone. Curled in the center of her small twin bed, she rocked back and forth with Mr. Bunny, praying for the images to stop. Images of blood and pain and death.
Her tiny brain couldn’t understand the horrific pictures that flashed through her brain, but as she matured, her understanding of the visions and their meaning became clear. Aislinn learned that she was seeing events in the near future, events she could stop if she remembered who she had touched or who had touched her during the day.
The sequence was the same each time. A weakness and dizziness followed a few hours later by the earliest signs of the headache and then the gripping terror of images she couldn’t control. Always death, always. Not once in her thirty-one years did she have visions graced with images of happiness or beauty. Only death.
Opening the door of the large office building housing Lewis you show up and actually work. That’s how this business arrangement works.”
“Yes, sir, I know. I’m sorry, it’s just with the rain today, and I spilled my coffee, and my headache…” she trailed off, cringing at the stabbing sensations coming quicker.
“Again?! Really, Miss Carter, get your female issues under control, or you’ll need to find another job.” His condescending tone hit her in all the wrong places. Standing, she gripped his sleeve, turning him around as he tried to walk away.
“Mr. Lewis,” she said through gritted teeth, “I assure you this is not a female problem. This is a constant mind-fuck of a headache. Now, I would appreciate it if you would not be so ignorant in your claims, or I may have to… have to…” Aislinn gripped his sleeve tighter, knowing what was coming.
“Miss Carter? Miss Carter?” Mr. Lewis’s face showed the first signs of compassion and concern as she fell to the floor. To Aislinn, it felt as though it were happening in slow motion. It always felt like slow motion.
The pain intensified. The shortness of breath came quickly. The loss of feeling in her legs overwhelmed her, and then it came as it always did. Without warning, without provocation, the images of death and blood, so much blood, and then blackness.