he meant his home. Luckily, I still had a room there. So, the idea of possibly staying there for the night didn’t bother me much. Especially since I now needed to go out and buy a new pillow for my room at the apartment.
“Dad, pull over,” I demanded. Luckily, he didn’t ask any questions and made his way to the shoulder just in time for me to spill from the car and throw up the once-delicious lunch my mother had made for me. I don’t know how much time passed, but I was sure as shit I would die right there on the side of the road. I felt THAT bad. The last thing I remember was my father’s broad arms scooping me up and dragging my ass back to the car. After that, it was lights out for Jonah.
Later on that afternoon, I woke up in my bed at my parent’s house. Wincing as I glanced at the nearby clock, I realized it was only an hour after my dad rescued me from the museum parking lot. God, just the thought of him having to pick me up in front of a client was enough embarrassment to last me a lifetime.
As if he knew exactly when I would wake up, likely because my dad could foresee the time that would happen, the doctor walked in to talk to me about my issues.
Dr. Jessen was a soul seer as well, although he specialized in psychic mediumship, more specifically the ability to speak to those who had passed on. But because he had a special gift, it was easier to talk with him about our ailments than a mainstream doctor, especially since he dealt more with psychological aspects of medicine. It wasn’t like we could walk into a hospital and say ‘Oh, you wanna know what’s wrong with me? Yeah… I can’t read minds anymore.’
The doctor said I should just rest. He thought my blocking technique actually did work under the sudden duress and that it may eventually wear off when I let my guard down. As far as why the increase in volume happened, he had no idea. But if I noticed any other changes in my gifts or if I noticed it coming back, I needed to call him right away.
As my dad escorted Jessen out of his home, I meandered down to the kitchen and found my mom’s worried form hunched over the sink.
“Mom? You ok?”
“Oh, Jonah. You should be in bed! Go. Go back up and I’ll bring you whatever it is you need,” she scolded as she tried to shoo me out of the kitchen.
“Mom, I’m ok. Really. I just needed to check on you. And, maybe get some more water,” I said with a shy smile, knowing she would like to hear me drinking water over soda.
“Well, I’m worried sick about my baby boy, that’s all,” she said with a sarcastic flick of her wrist.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t be worried. I’m okay. The doc says so,” I tried to assure her.
“Well, get your ass up to your room right now. I’ll bring you some water and we can talk more,” she ordered. I obeyed and climbed my way up to my old room. I decided it would be a good idea to heed the good doctor’s orders and just go to bed.
That night was the first in over six years I didn’t dream. I actually woke up in more of a panic than I would have with the most intense of dreams. I thought for sure with my nonexistent dream of amethyst eyes, I was likely dead. And if I wasn’t dead, I wanted to be.
Without my visions of her, I was nothing but a pathetic shell of a man.
Chapter Eight
You know the saying “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?” Well, I had no idea how much I enjoyed and relied on my gift until it disappeared. I couldn’t read a single soul and the quiet in my mind was near maddening.
“Sill nothing?” my father asked as I was headed out the door.
“Nothing,” I said angrily, avoiding eye contact at all costs. I didn’t look at him as I spoke. Even though I felt very emotional, I would be damned if I lost control, especially in front of my father.
“Jonah?” My name from his lips was full of pity and sorrow, which caused a bit of rage to begin simmering in my
“Dad, pull over,” I demanded. Luckily, he didn’t ask any questions and made his way to the shoulder just in time for me to spill from the car and throw up the once-delicious lunch my mother had made for me. I don’t know how much time passed, but I was sure as shit I would die right there on the side of the road. I felt THAT bad. The last thing I remember was my father’s broad arms scooping me up and dragging my ass back to the car. After that, it was lights out for Jonah.
Later on that afternoon, I woke up in my bed at my parent’s house. Wincing as I glanced at the nearby clock, I realized it was only an hour after my dad rescued me from the museum parking lot. God, just the thought of him having to pick me up in front of a client was enough embarrassment to last me a lifetime.
As if he knew exactly when I would wake up, likely because my dad could foresee the time that would happen, the doctor walked in to talk to me about my issues.
Dr. Jessen was a soul seer as well, although he specialized in psychic mediumship, more specifically the ability to speak to those who had passed on. But because he had a special gift, it was easier to talk with him about our ailments than a mainstream doctor, especially since he dealt more with psychological aspects of medicine. It wasn’t like we could walk into a hospital and say ‘Oh, you wanna know what’s wrong with me? Yeah… I can’t read minds anymore.’
The doctor said I should just rest. He thought my blocking technique actually did work under the sudden duress and that it may eventually wear off when I let my guard down. As far as why the increase in volume happened, he had no idea. But if I noticed any other changes in my gifts or if I noticed it coming back, I needed to call him right away.
As my dad escorted Jessen out of his home, I meandered down to the kitchen and found my mom’s worried form hunched over the sink.
“Mom? You ok?”
“Oh, Jonah. You should be in bed! Go. Go back up and I’ll bring you whatever it is you need,” she scolded as she tried to shoo me out of the kitchen.
“Mom, I’m ok. Really. I just needed to check on you. And, maybe get some more water,” I said with a shy smile, knowing she would like to hear me drinking water over soda.
“Well, I’m worried sick about my baby boy, that’s all,” she said with a sarcastic flick of her wrist.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t be worried. I’m okay. The doc says so,” I tried to assure her.
“Well, get your ass up to your room right now. I’ll bring you some water and we can talk more,” she ordered. I obeyed and climbed my way up to my old room. I decided it would be a good idea to heed the good doctor’s orders and just go to bed.
That night was the first in over six years I didn’t dream. I actually woke up in more of a panic than I would have with the most intense of dreams. I thought for sure with my nonexistent dream of amethyst eyes, I was likely dead. And if I wasn’t dead, I wanted to be.
Without my visions of her, I was nothing but a pathetic shell of a man.
Chapter Eight
You know the saying “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?” Well, I had no idea how much I enjoyed and relied on my gift until it disappeared. I couldn’t read a single soul and the quiet in my mind was near maddening.
“Sill nothing?” my father asked as I was headed out the door.
“Nothing,” I said angrily, avoiding eye contact at all costs. I didn’t look at him as I spoke. Even though I felt very emotional, I would be damned if I lost control, especially in front of my father.
“Jonah?” My name from his lips was full of pity and sorrow, which caused a bit of rage to begin simmering in my
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