earliest post first | most recent post first

7/17/2016 2:04pm

Dear @Bella,

Now that I think of it, I've actually been connected to some... peculiar events... in the past. Like, when I was a 7 or 8, I made one of those dumb jokes that little kids tend to make, and I said it would be silly if it just started raining fish (since I was cloud-watching at the time). And, suddenly, a noise like a whip cracking came from the air above us, and silver, wriggling cods fell like bombs from the great cerulean skies into the grass by our shoes. Another time, this jerk from class told me to go jump in a lake, and I told him HE should do it instead, and, surprise, surprise, he does. The list goes on and on, but the bottom line is that if I said something should happen by accident, it would happen, whether I liked it or not. So, yeah. I think you might be right about this whole "me-having-secret-powers-even-though-nobody-has-mentioned-anything-about-it-during-my-entire-existence-until-this-point-in-time" thing, @Bella.

Also, the bucket of purple goo, or "flagghagenhiemer", as you put it, is purring and nipping tenderly (can goo nip tenderly?) at my finger at the moment. You were right about it being friendly, too.

Connect a journal entry to this post

The QT
7/10/2016 10:34am

I guess I should probably start this off by saying I'm not psychic. Can I sew shadows to my body, read cards, summon ancient demons, or do anything of supernatural importance? Nope. I'm just a plain ol' human. And being a plain ol' human isn't exactly a great thing to be if you're stuck in the maintenance closet of a place called "Psychic High School". As I type this, students with extra eyes wander the halls, classes on hyper-dimensional travel are taught, and here I am, wondering how I let myself get to this point in my life.

Everything began at my old summer school I went to, where there was this girl. Now, most kids came to this school because their grades slipped, or maybe because they threw a chair at someone, but not her. She was a bit of an unusual case. No one knew her name, for one thing. When whatever fat, balding teacher that manned the class that day called role, they always skipped her name, and everyone just ignored it. She also would whisper demonic-sounding words to herself, or if some kid stared at her for too long, she'd mutter those words in his direction. The day after that, the student would just not come to school, and if I told anyone in class about it, they'd look at me strangely and ask, "Who?"

Despite the fact that all of my classmates couldn't know that it was the girl that caused their friends to go missing, they still felt uneasy around her, so she didn't really have any acquaintances and kept to herself. One day, however, she approached my desk, which wouldn't have been odd if we hadn't been in the middle of test, and asked me if I had powers. If I had known that she was being serious at the time, maybe I would've ignored her, or maybe I would've told her off, or maybe I would've just dashed out of my chair and dived straight out of the second-story window. Anything would have been a better alternative to what I actually did.

Swiveling my head around to check if anyone had noticed the girl noisily getting up and going to my desk, which they strangely had not, I replied with mock importance that I was very good at guessing. And that was true, I was very good at guessing - for someone who was just a plain ol' human, which means I wasn't very good at guessing at all. Sometimes I can guess the suitcase correctly on Deal Or No Deal, it varies whether I can predict whether you're going to choose rock, paper, or scissors, and maybe I get one number in the lottery drawings. So my guessing "powers" aren't anything worthy of Psychic High, but the girl seemed to think so. I probably should have specified that with her earlier.

Anyway, she was unusually excited, muttering that she had found a "fresh one" or whatever, when she suddenly frogmarched me to the other end of the room, where the supplied are kept neatly in a closet. But the weirdest part wasn't that this random girl I barely know grabbed out of nowhere, or that no one else even bothered to bat an eye; it's what happened next. As she tugged the closet door open, she forcefully shoved me in, and when I grimly prepared to smack against the back of the closet, the world changed around me. Shelves of plain manila folders and pencil boxes morphed into the middle of a lively school hallway, students pushing past me to desperately rush towards class. The change was disorienting, since it felt like everything was slowly melting, yet it went by so quickly.

I'd tell you more, but the bucket of suspiciously purple cleaning liquid in this closet is growling at me. I probably need to leave, and fast. Wish me luck.