Vessel of Grey Clouds and Present Lives

Submitted into Contest #152 in response to: Set your story in an oracle or a fortune teller’s parlor.... view prompt

0 comments

Fantasy Creative Nonfiction Fiction

This story contains sensitive content

Trigger warning: Serious illness of a loved one.


Grief is a powerful, unforgiving state that demands to be felt. It holds onto you and doesn’t let go until you’ve spiraled into every emotion imaginable. Even when you believe you’ve overcome it, it remains lingering, striking in the least expected, most vulnerable moments. The only thing worse than grief itself is the present moment when it hasn’t consumed you yet, but it’s in the shadows, waiting for the inevitable, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 


It always starts as a low hum until I can eventually decipher the words she’s thinking. Her pleads have become more frantic within the past few days, desperate for help. Not only can I hear her, but I also feel what she feels. It’s an unpleasant, but all too familiar feeling that once tormented my own soul years ago. 


I needed to reach her. Time was running out. 


***


Violet sat down on the steps leading up to the front door of her apartment complex. She cradled her knees closely to her chest, rested her chin on top of them, and looked out onto the busy street. She watched as cars drove by, thinking about how each person inside of them had their own life they were living. A life filled with its own experiences. She wondered how they were feeling or what they were going through, only to be overcome with the reality that she would never know. Just as they would never know what the girl perched upon these very steps was feeling. 


She wasn’t feeling… well… anything really. Upon receiving the news of her grandfather, a terrible numbness had swallowed her whole. His cancer had spread rapidly and there wasn’t much that the hospital could do at this point. The conversation with the doctor replayed over in her mind. 


It’s in his lungs now. He has the option of continuing treatment, but I’m afraid he isn’t making the progress we’d anticipate at this point. I’m sorry, but there’s only so much we can do.”


Violet felt angry recalling the doctor’s response. His tone of voice so blunt, with such a lack of empathy. 


“What do you mean!? You’re doctors! You’re supposed to help people heal!”


Violet hadn’t waited for a reply and instead stormed off down the hall back towards her grandfather’s room. She ignored her mother’s demands to come back. She slammed the door shut behind her, startling her grandfather who was seated upright in his bed slowly trying to keep down some applesauce. 


Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, wanting to appear strong for her grandfather. 


Come here sunflower”, her grandfather called out to her while setting his food aside. She smiled slightly at the comforting nickname he had given her when she was a baby. He had explained to her that she had been a happy baby, always beaming as bright as sunshine upon seeing him. 


Violet walked over and sat by his bed, nestling into his arm, careful to avoid the IV’s. 


How are you feeling?” Violet asked. 


Like a million bucks, you know this thing can’t take down little ole’ me.” He smiled before coughing slightly, quickly dismantling the illusion he was attempting to hide behind. 


Violet, now focusing back again on the present, smiled, recalling her grandfather’s bravery and attitude towards his diagnosis. Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. It pained her terribly knowing that he was only acting that way to spare her and her mother from the severity of his condition. 


Violet was never a believer in religion, but she did, to some degree, believe that there could be something, or someone, big out there. Something that could hear her pleads and help her grandfather. She had taken it upon herself to speak out into the universe in a desperate attempt to reach this higher being. She had felt silly at first, engaging in a conversation with, seemingly, no recipient, but after some time, she felt comfort in it. It gave her a glimpse of hope when there seemed to be none at all. 


Upon those steps, Violet began reaching out once again. 


“If there’s anyone out there… Please, I will do anything. Just let my grandfather survive this… He doesn’t deserve this…” 


She felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, embarrassed that someone may see her cry. She breathed slowly, eyes locked on the concrete sidewalk below her. The red and yellow leaves at her feet tumbled over each other as they were picked up by the wind. With closed eyes, she allowed the breeze to gently caress her face. The moment was peaceful, tranquil even as Violet let her mind focus solely on the feeling of the wind. It was then that something much less gentle smacked Violet across the left side of her face.


“What the hell?” Violet quickly reached up, grabbing the piece of paper that had slammed into her, annoyed that her moment of peace was abruptly interrupted. 


Violet straightened out the paper in her hands and studied it. The background was completely black with a white, detailed image of hands hovering around a crystal ball printed in the middle. Information was written within the crystal ball.


“Madame Winona

Fortune Teller”

127 N. Floral Ln.”


Violet rolled her eyes and crumpled up the paper. Yeah she was desperate, but she needed help from professionals, not from some scam artist. She walked through the door of her complex and threw the paper into the nearest trash bin. 


On the fourth floor, Violet retrieved her keys from her pocket and stepped into her apartment. The space was dark and cluttered. She hadn’t had the energy to clean in weeks and it was beginning to catch up with her. Sighing, she walked over to her fridge to get some water. With an outstretched arm, she froze in place, staring at the piece of paper that was hanging on her fridge door. 


The crystal ball stared at her from the middle of the paper, the written information appearing in a much bolder font. 


Violet stepped back, rubbing her eyes, fully convinced she was imagining things, yet the paper was still clipped to the door. Had she gotten one of these flyers a while ago and stuck it there? Maybe she was just sleep deprived. Sleeping in the hospital chairs did not guarantee the best rest. Violet continued to rationalize with herself until she was convinced the paper had always been there. Slightly disturbed, Violet unclipped the paper and placed it in her trash bin, wanting to remove it from her sight. 


“I need to shower,” Violet thought to herself. She had suddenly begun to feel uneasy and wished to wash away the feeling. 


Violet stepped into her bathroom, turned on the light, and twisted the shower knob. As she waited for the water to warm up, she examined her face in the mirror. She looked more disheveled than she thought. Her hair hadn’t been properly brushed in a week and her eyes were puffy from crying. She took in a deep breath, allowing her lungs to fill with air. She needed to take better care of herself. 


Violet was in the middle of removing her shirt when she heard something bang on her kitchen window. Startled, Violet jumped back and wrestled the shirt back onto her body. Hesitantly, Violet slowly opened the bathroom door, cringing at the high pitched squeak the door emitted. Assessing that the coast was clear, Violet made her way into the kitchen. Upon rounding the corner, she gasped as she noticed an owl perfectly perched right outside her window. The owl was a beautiful white color, with streaks of orange detailing its feathers. It held a paper in its beak. Its dark eyes pierced into her, beckoning her to come towards it. 


Violet walked over and opened the window. The owl quickly dropped the paper onto her floor and flapped its wings, taking flight. Violet peered down at the paper, heart racing. She bent down and turned it over, to find the crystal ball glaring back at her, no longer giving her a choice but to go to the address. 


***


Violet stood outside the one story building, and squinted at the small numbers on the wall to double check that she was at the correct address. It had taken her 20 minutes to reach the address from her apartment, an uneasy feeling swirling around her. At one point she had stopped and hesitated, but then remembered a friend she had back in college. Her friend, Cynthia, was going through a breakup that had left her in complete shambles. In a desperate attempt to take control, Cynthia had gone to see a fortune teller, determined to gain more insight into her relationship. Violet remembered the phone call she received shortly afterwards. 


“Oh Violet, it was so cool! She knew so many things that I never even mentioned and … Braydon and I are getting back together! I knew I had a good feeling about this!”


Violet had initially brushed it off, just trying to remain positive for her friend, but … sure enough, two weeks later Cynthia and Braydon were back together. 


Violet shrugged and figured no harm could be done from going in. Violet ascended the front steps and knocked before entering. A small bell jingled as the door opened, leading Violet into a dimly lit space, illuminated by the soft orange glow of a fire. Several bookcases towered against the walls, filled with books, candles and crystals. Towards the back of the room was another open door, long strands of blue and purple beads hanging from the doorframe. The space was calming and inviting. Violet walked over to the front desk. There were several papers scattered across the top, with an open book to her left, and an almost empty cup of tea to her right. Someone certainly worked there, but where were they? Eyeing the different documents on the table, Violet noticed a small bell underneath one of the small piles. With seemingly no other choice, Violet tapped the bell. 


“Hello Violet, I’m glad you could make it.” 


Violet jumped, feeling her heart leap out of her chest. 


The woman chuckled. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. 


Violet struggled to find her voice, “Um, no … no. It’s fine really. I’m okay …” 


Standing up straighter, Violet got a better look at the woman. She was tall with sleek black hair that was held back with a blue headscarf. A long skirt flowed over her legs nearly hiding the heels she was wearing. Several gold bracelets clinked together when she moved her arms as she spoke. 


“Follow me my dear," the woman turned on her heels and walked towards the back room. She pushed the beads to the side and slid into the dark. Her voice was enticing and Violet found her feet moving on their own. 


Violet pushed the beads to the side, taking in the room as she entered. It was much darker, the only light coming from a lamp that loomed over a table that was centered in the middle of the floor. The table was rather small, only two chairs able to fit comfortably around it in this space. On the table rested a crystal ball … the same one that had been antagonizing her only hours ago. The woman sat behind it, waiting for Violet to take a seat. 


“Violet dearie, please, make yourself comfortable.”


Violet stood in place. 


“How do you know my name?” 


The woman only stared at her with a small smirk. Violet instantly felt her face flush. 


“Oh, right… sorry. Fortune teller stuff…” Violet fidgeted with her fingers as she took her seat. 


“It’s good to meet you Violet. You may refer to me as Madame Winona.”


“It’s nice to meet you too.” Violet replied, leg now nervously bouncing underneath the table. Madame Winona smiled back, but remained silent. “Um … I’m not quite sure how this works exactly …” Violet stammered, struggling to make eye contact.


“You’re in pain, is this correct?” Madame Winona spoke, the sudden bluntness taking Violet by surprise. 


“I mean … I don’t know, I guess you could say …” Violet hesitated, suddenly overcome with emotion thinking about her grandfather. She gave in, “Yes, yes I am.”


“It’s okay to be vulnerable, my dear. I’m here to help.” Madame Winona repositioned herself in her chair. “If you are comfortable with it, I’d like you to place your left hand in mine and your right on the crystal ball.” 


Violet hesitantly placed her left hand in Madame Winona’s and her right on the crystal ball, which, to her surprise, was rather warm. 


“Thank you for your trust Violet. Now, close your eyes and allow yourself to feel your emotions. Feel them deeply. You do not need to hold on to them, in fact, lend your emotions to me. Allow me to feel what you feel …


***


I felt Violet’s hand wrap around mine. She was tense at first, but she eventually loosened her grip and sunk lower in her chair. She was in pain, much more than I had anticipated. She was a delicate little thing, desperately willingly to do anything to save her grandfather. 


With our hands connected, I watched as blurry images began to emerge from the fog from within. 


“As you feel these emotions, I want you to remember to breathe. You’re in total control.” I reassured Violet. First timers were always the most nervous. The more nervous they were, the hazier the fragments of their present lives were. 


As I allowed Violet the time to breathe, her nerves settled and I began to gain clarity. Her grandfather was in critical condition. I was right, there wasn’t much time left. If I was going to act, I would need to act now. 


“Violet, I’m asking you now to think of the one thing you wish to happen in your life. It could be anything …” I kept my voice low and steady, trying to read her facial expressions. Her eyebrows furrowed, but then softened. I returned my attention back to the crystal ball. The images were slowly transforming into something new. 


“You care deeply for your grandfather.” I stated. I felt her grasp tighten as she nodded slightly. A single tear rolled down her cheek. 


The image immediately became clearer. The crystal ball displayed Violet sitting next to her grandfather. He appeared healthier and stronger. The color had fully returned to his face and his cheeks were no longer sunken in. His bright hazel eyes stared directly back into my own. I smiled. “Sweet girl,” I thought to myself as I began quietly reciting an entrancement spell.  


With the image now fully structured, I closed my eyes and focused. Focused intently and with purpose. My hand became warmer against the ball and, through closed eyelids, I noticed the light in the room becoming brighter. I maintained posture and controlled my breathing. I just needed a few more minutes. I transferred my thoughts to my own past, to when I too felt this great deal of pain. Back to the day I lost my own father. Back to the pain in my chest and the hole that forever embedded itself into my heart. Back to the day I vowed to use my powers to ensure no one would ever feel the way I did. The feelings creeped in until they engulfed me whole once more. 


The entire room filled with a bright, blinding light, then dulled slowly. I opened my eyes. The crystal ball was once again a mere vessel of gray clouds, freeing myself of Violet’s mind. Violet remained seated across the table, breathing slowly. I began to talk her out of the trance I had placed her in. 


“How do you feel?” I asked her once she seemed to regain full consciousness. 


Violet didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Strangely … I feel light. Much lighter than before.” 


I nodded my head and smiled. “Good.” 


While Violet was placed in her trance, she was made to believe that we were talking about her grandfather the entire time. She would not recall the warm pressure of the crystal ball nor the blinding lights that swallowed the room. 


After a few moments of small talk and gratitude, I walked Violet out of the building and wished her well. Once inside, I made my way to the front window. I felt a whoosh of air on the back of my neck and pressure on my left side as an owl perched itself onto my shoulder. It squawked quietly. 


“You did good buddy.” I smiled and rubbed the top of his feathers. 


We stood and watched as Violet stopped on the sidewalk and grabbed her phone out of her purse. She fumbled with it before answering. Within moments, Violet’s solemn appearance was unraveled as a smile overtook her and tears pooled in her eyes. She took off running down the sidewalk and I watched until she was out of sight. 


***


The humming returned hours later and I focused until I could hear Violet’s thoughts once more. This time, the pleas were replaced with gratitude. A miracle had been blessed upon the family. 


I turned to the owl who was watching me intently, as if waiting to hear the news. 


“Turns out the cancer just … disappeared.” I smiled, feeling warmth overtake my body. “Imagine that.”


July 01, 2022 02:55

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.