Milayna by Michelle Pickett Read Free Book Online Page A

ribbon—a helium balloon, floating farther and farther away from my family.
    No . I gave my head a quick shake and pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. I’m pushing them away. I’m not floating away from them; I’m shoving them away from me. They lied. All these years, all the lies, how can I forget that?
    A vision pulled at me on my drive home from school that afternoon. It jerked and pushed for control of my thoughts and actions. I struggled to lock it out. But it seemed that the more visions I had, the stronger they became. And the more dangerous the situation, the stronger the vision. But when my chest tensed and a knot twisted in my stomach, sending bile up my throat, I was determined to ignore the vision I knew would follow.
    I’m not giving up my free will and having something that I didn’t ask for shoved on me.
    This time, I heard it before I saw it. My ears felt like they were full of cotton, and the normal sounds of my surroundings were muted in the background. Like an explosion, the sounds of the upcoming vision bombarded my mind. They were all I could hear, all I could focus on.
    I’m not listening this time. I’m going to ignore, ignore, ignore. Demi-angel or not, I’m not going to let these visions control me!
    What kind of life would I have if I could have a vision anytime, anywhere? I could see myself standing in front of a church full of people. Flowers and candles filled the room. I was in a gorgeous white gown about to give my wedding vows to Jake, then BAM! A vision. Nope, no thanks .
    I turned on the radio to drown out the sounds. It didn’t help. My mind focused on them, even as I cursed it.
    Kids laughing. Singing.
    “No! I’m not listening,” I said through clenched teeth, banging my fist against the steering wheel.
    Laughing. Playing.
    My vision started to crackle, and I shifted in my seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter. I couldn’t have a vision while I was driving. I’d cause an accident. Sweat covered my back and my shirt stuck to my skin. But the vision came anyway. It was transparent, playing like a video over my normal sight.
    A ball. A toddler. The ball rolling into the road—a teenager racing down the road, not paying attention.
    “No! It’s a baby!”
    A child’s life was in danger. There was no question—I gave in.
    Once I stopped fighting the vision, it guided me. It was like I was a remote-controlled toy, and someone used the remote to drive me to the kids playing in the yard. I saw the red ball and the blond-headed little boy.
    Reaching the house, I steered my truck so it blocked the road. I saw the old Trans-Am barreling toward me on one side of my truck and the little boy, running in that wobbly way little kids do, on the other side. The driver of the Trans-Am slammed on his brakes just in time to keep from hitting my truck. At the same time, the little boy picked up his ball and held it over his head with a loud giggle. He threw it, and it bounced back into the yard. He ran after it. As soon as the toddler was safely in his yard again, the vision cleared and my hearing returned to normal. The clenching pain in my stomach eased, but adrenaline still zinged through my veins like electricity shooting across my nerve endings.
    The idiot in the Trans-Am got out of his car and stalked to my window. “What the hell are you doing?”
    I rolled down the window, reached through the opening, and poked him in the chest. “Listen, idiot, you should be thanking me. Stop speeding through these streets; there are little kids playing. Now move your dumb-ass car.” I rolled my window up and tapped my finger on the steering wheel, waiting for him to move.
    He stared at me with a stupid expression before turning and slowly walking to his car.
    Once he was gone, I drove to the bakery where I worked part time. I had a closing shift that night, so I didn’t get home until after eight. I grabbed a frozen dinner and threw it in the microwave.
    “Milayna?” my mom