Page 14 of Possessed By Shadows

It shouldn’t have hurt that much. But for a few seconds it felt like I couldn’t breathe. There was a wallop of pain in my gut, and I tried to tell myself it was just cards, random draws of paper. It didn’t really mean anything. But my vision blurred again with tears.

Dion held out a tissue box for me. I was far too tired to deal with this.

“What did you ask?” Micah wanted to know.

“If I would ever be free of the thing that haunts me,” I whispered. No, she had said. A decisive no. To believe that? Knowing there was no way out? To always be cursed this way? My heart hurt.

“Can I ask one?” Micah asked her, his hands hovering over the spread of cards.

“Of course,” Dion agreed.

Micah did appear to make a more thoughtful choice on his cards before handing one over. She looked at it while he squeezed my hand.

“The choice is yours,” she finally said. “To use it, or let it use you. Those of us borndifferentalways find it a burden. It’s how we use it that matters. Will you let it destroy what you are? Take control? Or become a master of yourselves?”

What had Micah asked? About his own demon? Was there a way to control what we saw? What did she mean? I studied Micah’s face to try to gleam what he was thinking, but he seemed lost in thought.

“Can we control this?” I finally asked. “These things we see and experience?”

“Yes and no,” Dion said. “You can control how you react. But the abilities…”

Would never go away. I understood that. Even if I stopped seeing ghosts right this minute, didn’t mean I’d ever stop looking for them. What I really wanted was for them to not be able to use me whenever they wanted, to take over and make me some sort of living doll. “Can I keep them from using me?”

“With training,” she agreed with a nod. “One as sensitive as you would need to bargain for that freedom. But it can be done.” She reached back to the table and picked up a copy of the class guide again, this time flipping to a set of pages. She circled a few of the classes. “These are a good place to start. A lot of what we struggle with is accepting that we are different, and how the world villainizes us for it.”

That was certainly the truth. “What if I’m crazy?” I asked, thoughts still in my head of all the different mental illnesses I could have.

She motioned to the spread of cards. “Perhaps you’d like to ask the universe?”

That, in and of itself, sounded peculiar, but whatever, it was late and we were in some random wicca shop having a tarot reading. I hovered my hand over the cards like Micah had done, seeing if I could sense any energy or anything from them, but felt nothing. None of them jumped out and saidpick me, pick me. I grabbed one and handed it over, thinkingAm I crazy?

She looked at the card and smiled, “The Universe has humor. Its answer is, a little.”

I gaped at her. “You are making that up. The Universe did not just call me a little crazy.”

“But aren’t we all?” She gathered up the deck, sticking the cards back inside and shuffling. Then she handed it to me. “Shuffle.”

I did, though it wasn’t graceful at all like the fancy card play I’d seen on TV from Vegas hustlers.

“Pick another card,” she instructed. “Think your question again.”

I did, handing it over without looking at it. Still holding the deck.

She flipped it over. Same card.

“The fuck…” I said, knowing that wasn’t possible, unless the entire deck was that card. I flipped over the deck, finding it to be the mix of standard tarot images. “That’s not possible. Scientifically the statistical chance of pulling the same card…” It wasn’t possible.

She handed back the card. “Shuffle again. Same question.”

I shuffled pretty furiously this time, intent on the question of my sanity. Rephrasing the question in my head a half-dozen ways. Was I crazy? Was I insane? Did all this make me mentally ill? When I finally drew a card again my chest tightened with anxiety.

Dion flipped the card and again, same card.

“Fuck me,” I grumbled.

She smiled. “This card means the answer is not so simple.”

“This is nuts,” I said, staring at the card. “Are you seeing this?” I asked Micah. He nodded. “This is real?” I looked around the room. “I’m not dreaming or something?”