This is a Gift

Is apologizing for not being special a thing? It had been a week since Madison had given Liadan her proposal, and in such time she’d basically ignored Liadan. Or paid too much attention to her. It was an odd mixture of giving Liadan space by not speaking to her, and still watching every move she made. At this rate, she felt Madison could really give the blonde guy some tips.

I should employ Madison to help. Her television obsessions might give me a lead. Liadan sat with her head propped in her hands, sitting in a gymnasium for her after-school-care job. The kids were currently running around playing tag, and until a fight broke out she had a brief reprieve from moving too much. She was still scared of herself, but it was almost a new normal she was getting used to. She did what she knew to do: go to school and hope nothing moved on its own. When she went to work and heard elementary school children’s thoughts, Liadan tried to cover her ears, but she wore hoop earrings that day and instead of blocking out sound she just kept tugging on them – not that covering her ears was really going to do anything. So she let them filter through her mind like tuning out elevator muzak.

(currently: one little girl was day dreaming about being a ballerina, and the boy next to her was thinking about dinner and his favorite cartoons)

The telepathy problem somewhat managed, her solution for telekinesis was thinking“still” thoughts:

I want the water fountain to stay off unless I push the button. I want my teacher’s stapler to stay on the table.

When it was all done and she found herself at home, she would hide in her room as soon as possible and wake up the next morning and start it all over again. The method made her feel better and, in some ways, secure, because it was familiar and routine and made sense. The safety of knowing exactly what she was going to get out of her schedule was the protective walls against her current reality she desperately craved.

She sat and watched as one of the second graders tried to jump rope and kept missing it. He would jump and swing it over his head at the same time, causing the rope to come down onto his feet just as his feet hit the ground again.

“Keep trying!” She called encouragingly. “Practice swinging it over your head and spotting it first!”

He nodded. And then did the same thing he’d been doing: jumping while swinging it over his head.

Liadan watched a few more failed attempts, laughing to herself. She visualized the rope working properly, swinging under him right when he went into the air. In a moment of sheer curiosity, she focused her energy on helping him jump rope correctly.

It did.

He would swing the rope over his head as he jumped, as he had been, but Liadan focused on the rope speeding forward to swing under him quickly before he came back down. Obediently each time she thought it, the rope did.

“Look! I’m doing it!” He cried triumphantly and Liadan responded with a thumbs up.

“Good job!” She yelled back, though she meant it to herself. Her own skin was still an alien to her, but one small step in understanding was a long way in comfort.

---

Towards the end of October, Liadan was in the library by herself. She had a government midterm in two days, and every book she could find was displayed and laying open on the table around her. Though she had built her bedroom as her own personal fortress of solitude, being at home had become somewhat of a challenge. Her family noticed the recent change in her behavior.

“Is everything okay?” Her brother would ask her at different moments, and her mother would ask her if anything happened at school. Her father seemed to take moments to offer her things, almost as if he was trying to make her feel better (“Would you like some of my ice cream? It’s cherry vanilla!”) The change was subtle, but when the camera crews got bored with nothing out of the ordinary happening, the hallways didn’t seem as eerie and terrifying as they before. Slowly, voices started to enter her mind unwillingly, speaking of all numbers of things. Paranoid thoughts, scattered memories, and whisperings of evil and people Liadan had never heard of.

“They’re coming now.”

Liadan put her head in her hands, propping her elbows on the table. Not again, she thought. She began to read the pages more furiously. She squinted her eyes.

“Coming for you, Lecta.”

Liadan, she mentally corrected before she realized what she was doing. She looked up, startled, and spotted Julian looking intently at her across the library. He looked unnaturally happy about something.

Liadan returned to her books, flipping the pages furiously. “They’re coming for you, Liadan Ryan.” Now her name was enunciated mockingly, the ee sound in her name dragged out. Liadan shivered. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore how uncomfortable she felt, and the heaviness that was settling on her, but she couldn’t. She began to throw all the items that belonged to her into her book bag. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest; she just had to get out. That would solve everything, she told herself. It’s just the library, not your own sanity, she assured herself. She nearly tripped over her chair in her rush to leave, other students looking her way. Her eyes ever so briefly went to where Julian had been standing, but she found he was gone.

“Whatever.” She muttered. She didn’t care that he was gone. He wasn’t even involved. Just a coincidence. She pushed out of the library, her bag hitting one or two chairs and disrupting more than one student, but she was oblivious.

Out in the parking lot, someone caught hold of her arm. “Hey, are you okay?” A kind voice asked her, and Liadan looked up to see her very own stalker looking back at her. From this point of view she could see that he had very bright blue eyes. Aryan. She’d just read that in a history book last week, she thought, trying to focus on something mundane. For a moment, everything cleared.

“I’m okay.” Liadan said, speaking honestly for what felt like the first time in ages.

“You should come with me,” he said, looking at something over her shoulder. Liadan didn’t notice. Instead, she shook her head no.

“No, I’d rather just go home. I think that’s the best thing for me right now.”

“No, it really isn’t,” he told her. His hand was still on her arm, and Liadan looked at it. It tightened, squeezing her for just a brief moment. Her heart started pumping faster, and wildly she started wondering if she should call out for help. Just across the parking lot was a group of students in the smoking section and one guy looked pretty big. She looked back up at mystery man and saw that his attention was on something behind her. She turned her head quickly to see Julian walking their way in a smooth strut. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to be worrying about, Aaron?” Julian asked, his voice filling Liadan with a dread she couldn’t have explained if she wanted to

.Aaron – presumably – let go of her arm and shifted so that he was in between Liadan and Julian. “Don’t you only want paying customers, Julian?”

I’m not a slab of meat, Liadan thought frantically. She didn’t want to think about any impending danger or otherworldly oddities so instead put her attention on typical misogynist banter. Julian, his stride never slowing, now stopped in front of Aaron. The smile that had been on his lips fell away.

“You should stay out of this. It would be best for you.” He told Aaron calmly, and attempted to step around him. Aaron shifted to block Liadan and Liadan decided that she wanted to stay with Aaron more than anything else right now. She sidestepped as well, making sure her entire body was hidden behind his full frame. He was wearing the same letterman jacket she’d seen before and she hoped that meant that underneath he was built like a linebacker.

“It’s my business, though.” Aaron shrugged, mock apologetic style.

“Hmm.” Julian seemed thoughtful for a moment and then he pulled his arm back and Liadan just knew he was going to punch Aaron. She opened her mouth to warn him, but right when Julian’s fist was about to make contact, Aaron’s head disappeared. Liadan’s eyes went wide and she looked around wildly to see if any of the smoking students had seen it, but unfortunately they’d all dispersed; the rest of the parking lot was deserted. When she turned back around, Aaron’s head had reappeared, and neither he nor Julian seemed at all shocked at the development. Liadan had seen enough. Aaron wasn’t holding onto her and seemed more interested in Julian. She took off into the parking lot, intending to hide behind the biggest car she could find. It seemed completely stupid even to her, but she’d reached her limit; voices, being watched, making items move, and now invisible heads? She’d had a good two day run of coming to terms with it and that all disappeared with Aaron’s head. She couldn’t cope. Not with this. Not right now. She had a paper due and a test to study for, damn it.

Liadan didn’t see a car she liked, so hooked a right and hightailed it around the building. Her hoodie was falling off one shoulder with the movement of her gait, and her bookbag bounced painfully on the back of her thighs. She probably looked like a hot mess. She found herself in the middle of the college courtyard. There was a body of water with a fountain shooting up in the middle of it, and groups of students all around. Some were seated at outdoor tables for the café, and others were walking on their way to other classes. One or two people glanced at her as she ran past, but most didn’t bother, and Liadan didn’t care if they saw her or not. She just wanted off this stupid campus. She glanced back as she stopped in the middle of some tables, wondering if they were following her. No one seemed to be, and she slowed her pace a bit. She began to walk, and as she turned back around to see where she was going, she stopped. Standing in front of her was Julian. How he’d gotten over here so fast, she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Going somewhere, Lecta?”

“Currently? Out of my mind,” Liadan said, followed promptly by nervous laughter. Her mother had always said when she was nervous she became increasingly snarky and giggly, and now only served as a prime example. She stood there, her fingers tracing down to her bag, wanting to grab her keys and dash for her car.

“Funny. Resembles humor, even,” said Julian, a thoughtful expression on his face. Liadan took a step back, frantically trying to think of an escape route. She looked around, thinking that someone must be seeing this. Someone must see her distress, but they were all frozen. She let that register in her mind as she saw in the distance the campus security jeep and she considered calling out for them.

“Don’t bother. You’ll just waste your breath.”

Liadan’s eyes went right back to Julian. “Did you…”“Read your mind? Yeah.” He just stood there, so calm it was unsettling. “And you can read my mind, can’t you?”

Liadan opened her mouth in surprise, caught off guard, and was about to shake her head no when Julian smiled: he hadn’t spoken aloud.

Again, words seemed to float across her mind. “Ah, so you can.” His grin got wider and he lunged at her. Liadan squealed (unfortunately), bracing herself for impact. Instead, someone wrapped their arms around her from behind and she disappeared.