Bloody Future, Bloody Halls

My eyes examine the school. It is marble. Cold and unforgiving. There is a scream. I felt my self run toward it, and… Jerk back into class.

I rarely remember the past as easily as I remember the future. The future is easy. The past is hard. I focus and try to pick through my future memories. I see the birth of a little girl. I smile. That’ll be soon. I find the time I was in again and look around, detaching myself from the body.

I gaze over the school and see blood. On an astral level, that overpowers everything else. I pull back from the future and pant.

“Is everything all right Miss Jessell?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Now, as I was saying. Next school year, you will go to Margene High. Remember, this summer may very well be the last time you have a summer before college. Unless you get held back.”

I look forward briefly to who will be held back. The smart girl? I raise my eyebrows but pull back. The bell will ring I pull myself back and rock forward, jumping just when the bell rang. I run home as fast as I can, my feet carrying me forward. I don’t pay attention to the path. I find myself in the park, and I sit there, my feet carrying me toward the bench.

I throw myself forward to the bloody memory. Margene High. says the sign. My future school. As our current High school is being closed, we will move to Margene, but now, I’m not sure I want to. My breath is shaky and I’m struggling to breathe, spit is pooling faster, and I put my head in my hands. The school has blood on its hands. Figuratively, obviously, but blood none the less. I get up and let my mind travel to better memories. But beyond the scream, I barely find anything. I see a woman screaming and holding a body. I shake and And pull into what I call the hall of future memories, where all my memories of the future are. I find the birth. I see the lifelessness on her for the first time. I can’t handle death right now, and gag, slinking away from the memories. What goes wrong in that school?

My feet can’t support me and I pull out my phone. Who should I call? Mom. I think. I won’t look into the future for now. I call her and ask her to come to pick me up. I get a flash-forward.

Mom gives me a cup of coffee. I fall to the ground, lifeless. I see Dad burning my body. The screams. All of my paths lead to death, I think irritably. My hands knit through my hair and runoff. I look forward. The police. I run off and walk-in. The receptionist listens to my prediction. People like me aren’t unheard of, but we’re definitely rare. I jump forward a moment and tell her, sharply, that I am not a faker and not to tell anyone where I am. She nods and walks away. I pull myself into a ball.

I hear the door open and I see my mother come in. I can’t even see why she’s here. Or can I?I throw myself forward.

“Officer!”

“How may I help you, ma’am?”

“Someone has kidnapped my daughter!”

I pull out of the memory and give a sharp laugh. Yeah, right. She turns to me.

“Darling!”

She hugs me. I briefly think about how lucky I am that I never told Mom or Dad I can remember the future.

I take the coffee from her hand and look forward. Death if I drink it. A knife to the back if I don’t. I pause. And scream. The officer comes back in. She sees the woman I described to kill me and me holding a coffee cup. I look and see my father slinking outside. She grabs the cup of coffee and snaps my mom's wrist. She takes me to the back room. She holds the coffee and pours it is a poison tester and it flashes green.

“Any other memories?”

“My high school. Blood.”

“What school?”

“Margene High.”

The officer who’s nametag I can now read and tell her name is Stephanie, sucks in a breath. “We’ve had our suspicions about Margene for a while. Students with less then a 3.5 GPA disappearing. We’ll track it down.”

I nod unceremoniously and pause. “Why did they want to kill me?”

“Maybe look into the past,” said Stephane softly.

I shake my head. “It hurts.”

“Try.”

I sigh and go into the memories, but as my mind spirals forward, I spiral back. I find myself stopped at a memory from about when I was two or three. I am sitting in my crib. Mother.

No. That’s not my mother. But my little self calls her Mama. Little me holds up her hands. As I am picked up, little me slides a knife out of nowhere, and I see cuts over my little body. Abuse maybe. I slide out the knife and stab the adult in the back, falling to the ground. Little me turns into a demon. The demon I used to see everywhere. He waits until the father comes in and easily stabs him. He picks up the real little me and puts me on the ground. The blood looks like fun to little me. I splash in it and invite the demon to play. He shakes his head and I see him drop the knife and vanish.

I pull out of the memory and got forward. Not a lot, but still in the past. Little me is in a courtroom. The judge declares me a murderer to be raised by my aunt and uncle.

I slide out of the memory and look at Stephanie. “A demon killed my actual parents, and they thought it was me. They wanted me dead because they think  I killed their siblings. The people I thought were my parents where my aunt and uncle on my mom's side.”

Stephanie nods. I suddenly feel a pull at the back of my head.

I awake happily but suddenly fall back as I realize that was the future. I see my guardian demon standing over me.

“They can never hurt you again little one,” he says, picking me up and taking my place. I can do nothing but watch as he murders my parents, and ends up pinning the blame on me.