Unwanted Power

I can remember being able to do it since, well since I was able to remember. It is the earliest memory that I have. I was something like two years old. My father had picked me up off the floor because I was crying. I looked right into his eyes, and not like just a glance like most people do, I looked deep into his eyes, and I was able to see everything. Images of loads of things flashed in front of my vision of my dad. I saw a little boy sitting alone on a swing set, crying. I saw a little girl approaching him on the swing. Flash, then I saw a woman walking down aisle in a beautiful long dress. Flash, I saw a room full of kids, with the teacher passing out papers to the kids. A little boy dressed in a green and gray flannel shirt got his, and a test score written in red pen said "25/25" with a little smiley face next to it. Flash, their was a car flipped upside down on a country road. Red and blue lights were flashing everywhere. Inside the car were two adults, one male and one female. In the back seat of the car was a five year old child crying and screaming "Help, help, someone please help. My Mommy and Daddy are hurt. HELP!" Then a series of numbers flashed forward upon the scene I was seeing. The numbers were "11/23/2005," that was the day my parents had left me alone in this world.

After that day when my dad had picked me up off the floor, I remembered everything that had happened in his life. Not just everything that had happened, though, I was also able to see his future. It didn't just happen with my dad. It had happened every time I looked deeply into someone’s eyes, when I stared into their eyes not just glanced into them. When I did glance into them I got a little flash but not everything. The really freaky thing, though, is the fact that I remember everything I have seen. I know everything about them, from the day they were born, to when and how they lost their first tooth, to the day they got married, and finally knowing the exact date they are going to die, and how they will leave this world.

So that day when my dad had picked me up off the floor, I knew how and when they were going to die. On November 23rd, 2005, my parents had died in a car crash. I was in the car and survived the accident. I was only five years old when I became an orphan. After that day, I knew, I knew what my power was exactly and what I was able to do. I can remember looking into my mother’s eyes when I was about four years old and seeing the exact same end to her story as my father’s. At the time, I thought nothing of it of course, but after that, I understood I have an unwanted power. It would be a power I will never want to have or use.

I am seventeen years old now, and I still continue to live in an orphanage. I have probably had over 100 adoption interviews since I became an orphan. I expect it is probably something to do with the fact I can tell the people who are considering me for adoption, everything about their lives. I am guessing that, that it might sorta freak them out a little bit. I can remember a funny story from this one guy once. He was six years old when it had happened to him. He wasn't the brightest kid in the world; he had short blonde hair and the cutest blue eyes I had ever seen on a little kid. He was walking down a street in a big town, surprisingly the street he was on was completely bare off people, which for him was probably a good thing. A black dog, a Russell terrier, had gotten loose, apparently, and ran up behind Francis, that was his name. Francis, allegedly, had gotten so scared of the dog that he had actually peed his pants. That wasn't the only funny part out this guy's memory. It was his birthday that same day, and he was on his way home from school, and when he had gotten home, there was a whole bunch of people waiting to greet him. He was so embarrassed. A girl he had liked was there and everything.

Of course, after all, I can remember everything about everyone. Another example is this one single lady who had wanted to adopt me a while back, maybe when I was like seven years old. When she was 22 years old, a couple years before I had met her, she had been left by her husband of six years. They for some dumb-ass reason had decided to get married when they were 16 years old. Their marriage had fallen apart because she wanted children, and he had wanted to live life before he had to be tied down even further. Look though where she showed up three years later. So, my guess is that this ability, this unwanted power that I have must freak people out just a little bit. Well, it freaks me out so why wouldn’t it freak them out. 

How creepy would it be to meet a child for the first time, someone you have never met in your entire life, and then they knew everything about you? Knew that in the fifth grade you peed your pants. She knew when (to the exact time of day) you had lost your first tooth. Wouldn't you freak out if someone told you the day you are going to die, and how you are going to leave the world. 

Why would I tell the people this, though? I mean why don’t I just keep my mouth shut and not tell them I know things about them. Well I was brought up to honest no matter what. I can remember my father telling me before he died that honesty counts. He said, “To earn one’s trust you will need honesty. Therefore, honesty is what is most important I think about people, so why shouldn’t I be honest to them when they ask me, “Did you want to know some things about us?” So, I tell them I know everything. Of course, they do not believe me. They ask questions then to see if I really do, and I can, definitely, answer every question about their lives that they ask me. Probably not the greatest thing in the world, but I just cannot help it because I have to be honest. 

What I really hate is when they aren’t honest to me. I see their past, I know everything about them. Of course, they don’t know that quite yet, but they will lie to me telling me how great of person they are when in fact they really aren’t at all. I am afraid that one day I am going to see  into someone’s past, someone to whom I trust dearly, and to find out that they are a murderer. 

I guess that is what this power of mine could be used for though couldn’t it? Sure, I don’t want this power, but I never had a choice of having it or not. I have always tried to think of why I had this power. What good or usefulness could come of this, this strange unwanted power of mine? Well, for the past year,my guardian, Bertha, at the orphanage here has tried to get me looking into career paths that I might be interested in, so I can apply for colleges after I get my diploma. A couple days ago, however, I came across something that might have at least something to do with my power, as I like to call it. 

Working in law enforcement would work wouldn’t it? I mean people would have to believe me that I have this power, but I am sure there are ways in which they could possibly check it. Law enforcement would be good because I could interrogate people, but instead I would be reading into their past to find out what they did and if they actually did it. 

Oh my god, I just realized that I never really introduced myself have I? How very rude of me. I have just been blabbing on and on about my history, about my power, and what I plan on doing after I get out of this orphanage, and you don’t even know my name. Well I think my name is the reason why so many people wanted to adopt me. My name is Eliza Ruth Hunterson. People seem to think Eliza Ruth is a very beautiful name. I have blonde hair, seemingly, beautiful blue eyes (so I have been told), and I (have also been told) that I have a perfect body. I swear guys at this orphanage are freaking crazy! 

There is no need for strange facts about me as you already know them right? Well, the main one I guess you know. All the other strange things about me have to do with the fact that I can see everyone’s past and future and then remember it. People think it is extremely weird that I have not once looked into a mirror in my life, well that I can remember at least. I am just too afraid too. I do not want to know about my future. I do not want to know when and how I am going to die. I think that I couldn’t handle it, and if I ever did find out, I would be so depressed. 

That’s what I have always wondered though. Is what I see for people’s future actually going to happen, or is it possible to change it if you want to? I have so many questions still about my power. I never know truly, exactly everything. I can remember this one guy, however. He wanted a daughter so badly, a teenage daughter. He was so close to getting me (I know it sounds weird saying he was going to get me, but that’s basically what it means). I saw his future and saw that he was going to be diagnosed with a serious and very rare form of cancer within the next week. Then, three weeks later he was going to die. I had to tell him because after what I had seen when I met him some three years ago, I started crying, and he wanted to know why all of a sudden I was crying. He left almost immediately after I had told him. I felt so badly for him; he could have been a father to me. 

Speaking of adoptions, strangely enough I have a interview for adoption today. Bertha and I were both very surprised actually because no one, and I mean absolutely no one ever has adopted a 17 year old. Whats the point of spending money on adopting a child that will soon be a legal adult. We were going to say no, but I just want to always have someone I can trust, know what I mean? If I need somewhere to go I will always have them. 

It is three o’clock in the afternoon on the 2nd of July, 2015. I am waiting anxiously in the interview room as I have for the past 12 years. I have had thousands of dreams in this room. Yellowish colored walls with old movie posters scattered all over the them, Bertha is a huge movie buff. A white collapsible table is in the middle of the room, with me sitting in one dark brown leather chair on one side, and two empty wooden chairs on the other side. My interview does’t start until 3:30, but I was just too excited to wait anywhere else.

When 3:25 rolled around, I heard a knock on the door. Nerves were flowing through me like pain when you step on a nail. Bertha came walking in with a dark brown haired man, he looked very built and seemed to be like a very serious business man. I did not make eye contact. With interviews I always try not too (especially this one) but always end up somehow making that contact. She also walked in his a bigger tougher looking guy. He must have been a body builder. 

“Eliza, this is Jerry,” pointing to the brown haired man, “and this is Frank. I will leave you three alone to talk,” said Bertha in her soft heartwarming voice. She had shut the door behind her. This was probably the biggest mistake of her life. 

“Hi Jerry and Frank,” I said smiling to the both of them. They were still standing. Jerry had reached into his suit suddenly and said, “Hello Eliza. Do not panic, we are not here to hurt you.” That was the last thing I could remember before everything went black. 

To be continued . . .

Sleepless Night

(WARNING: before you read this make sure you are okay with reading obscene material such as gory content). 

Dear to whoever reads this,

11 o'clock at night and I am just getting home from a night out at the movies with some friends. We (well technically I) decided to go see the film Contagion. It was an alright movie. Seemed to be choppy, and it really cut-off parts like it was edited very badly. Anyway that is not the reason I am writing this letter to whom it concerns. I am writing this at 12 o'clock at night because I am afraid for my life, and I will explain why later in the letter . . . if I get the chance to finish it. Anyway yes I am writing this letter just to let you all know what happened, and that I love you all. If I make it to the morning I will just end up throwing it away in the morning. 

So as I was saying I am in fear of my life right at the moment. I came home tonight and when I was walking through my kitchen towards my bedroom, I saw a man's face in the window staring in at me. Well at first glance I didn't see anything, but when I looked back I saw him looking into the window. I jumped, spilling the Coca-Cola in my hand all over the floor. When I looked back at the window the man wasn't there. I swear though I saw him, so I run up to the window to look and see if I can see anyone near by. I look out the window, and DUH its 11 o'clock at night, how in the hell am I going to see anyone out there. 

So I guess assume it was the trick of the light, and forget about it and remember I have a pop spill to pick up. I go to the sink and get a wet rag and wipe up the sweet smelling soda of my polished wood floors. After I through the cloth in the sink I look back over at the window. I jump again the man's face was their. He has a full grown beard and shaggy hair. When I look again though he is gone. 

Now I am starting to panic. Thinking what do I do. Well I go double check that I triple lock my door, I have three lock to my front door of my apartment. I make sure all my windows are locked close. I saw him again though. I was shutting an upstairs window when I saw a man's figure standing in the middle of the road, the street lamps was illuminating his shadow. I walk away from that window and go to shut another one right next to it, and the man's figure is gone. "What the eff is going on?" I question myself. 

So I go to my room and bolt it shut, thankfully it actually has one. It does have a window though, and right now I am really wishing that it didn't. I look over towards it after I have stripped down to my boxers and crawled into my bed. Nothing, thankfully, was looking in towards me. I sit there for what felt like hours and hours, but when I look over at my nightstand I see that it has only been 30 minutes since I have spilled that soda in the kitchen. I continue to think over and over in my head, 'who would do this to people? Why would someone have a sick mind to look into a man's house and creep him out into a sleepless night?' 

Then I began to think about the next day, and how I have to work a 12 hour shift tomorrow. I groan with the thought of standing in front of a conveyor belt all day staring at bottles of water be made. I look over at the window, I jump straight up and out of my bed! Their the man's face was again in the window staring in at me. I blinked though and he was gone. 

Now reader whoever you are . . . you are probably wondering by now why have I not called the cops or someone? Well I will tell you why it is because I do not own a phone in my apartment. Stupid right? Well I don't and I can't change that tonight, and I am not going out their with some crazy possibly out their. So after I see the man's face once again I decided to . . . 

WAIT WHAT WAS THAT?!?!?

Johnny Wenderson was found dead in his apartment on July 18th, 2012, three days after this letter was dated. He was found in his bathroom with his mouth knitted shut, throat slit, fingernails removed, feet taken off at the ankle, and his neck broken. His body was found in the bathtub soaking in his own blood. The autopsy revealed that Johnny was alive through it all until the killer finally slit his throat. The killer is yet to be found, but it is considered that this isn't his first killing. Their was a mysterious death two days prior to Johnny's. Their are no clues leading to the killer, and absolutely no lead to go on. This killer knows what he is doing, and that is what is starting to scare the city.

To be continued . . .

This has been a story idea by Noah Mark Bitney. 

A Dilemma

Seven days a week I work. Well not technically as I am on call all seven day, but I would still count it as working all week long. My boss calls me whenever I need to work. If he can't get a hold of me it''s fine and I just try to work the next day if he has work for me. Oh I work at a transportation company in a big city. I can gratefully thank my brother-in law, Hank, for getting me the job. He got me the job because he works there too.

I am 17 years old, and I needed a job so he was nice enough to talk to his boss and land me a job there. I wash trucks, clean the shop, run after parts, change tires, and a lot of other odd jobs. I get paid really well to: I get about 9.50 an hour, which is really good for my age. I love my brother-in-law for landing me the job. I would do anything for him now. Problem is I can't find anything to do for him. Well that's what I thought for a couple of months until I reached my dilemma.

Obviously Hank is married to my sister, Samantha, as that is how it works. I found something out though yesterday about my sister that I would never had wanted to know or even see as her brother. Hank has a friend named Robert that I had met on my Sister, Samantha, and Hank's wedding day. Robert is the kind of guy that is a man whore as I would call him. I think you can find someone in your life who is or was like that.

Well apparently Robert was the one who introduced Hank to my big sister Samantha. When Sam and Hank first met it was like love at first site they said. Something though I knew was up with Sam and Robert. I could see it in their eyes when I saw them together for the first time. This was confirmed though, I was proved right the other day.

After work one day last week I had to stop at my sister's to drop off my check so she could cash some of it and put the other part of it in my savings. She works at a bank, so it makes it easier for me so I don't have to run 20 minutes to go drop it off when she could just do it herself when she goes into work. I was planning on just leaving a note on the envelope and leaving it inside their front porch.

On that day I had seen Robert at my work because he also works their once and while. He left awhile before me though. So when I pull into my sister's driveway I saw his truck. I thought to myself that this is weird. Hank is still working, so why is he here? Then I saw my sister's car, and wondered even more because she was supposed to be at work. I parked on the street, and decided to walk up to the front door.

I then saw things I never ever want to see happening to my sister ever. I looked in through the front window and saw that Samantha and Robert where having sex on the couch. My mind was disgusted and repulsed, but at the same time I had a swelling anger building up in me. I didn't walk in of course that would just be weird. Before I walked back to my car though I heard Samantha say something I wish I would have never heard, "What we going to have another baby?"

Sam and Hank have a one-year-old baby. Well my whole family thought it was Sam and Hank's. My stomach dropped when I heard this. I walked back to my car and drove away. So, yes this is my dilemma. What am I supposed to do? Tell my brother-in-law, and ruin his heart and life, or do not tell him and let him live in lies for the rest of his life?

I am 17 years old, one year left of High School, and I shouldn't have this on my mind should I? I have a huge dilemma on my mind, and I have no idea what to do about it. It should't be my concern. Help me . . . someone???

This has been a fictional story by Noah Mark Bitney. 

In fear

"WHAT WAS THAT?" I yelled out in the middle of the night. Sweat was dripping down my chest. I was taking in deep breathes. All I could think about was the possibility of a murderer could be standing outside of my window, or maybe even outside the door to my apartment. 

This is my life. I live in fear of what could possibly happen to me. If a friend asks me go out to have a drink or go see a movie, I make up some lame excuse on how I cannot go. That was years ago though. I don't think a friend has asked me to go out in like three years. Why don't I go out? Well because I have lived my life in fear ever since I was a little child, and I was kidnapped by a stranger. So now, every time someone knocks on my door, or if I am out on the streets, I think that they are a murderer plotting a way to kill me. I mean you can't trust anyone can you? You don't know what they could be planning or doing.

I am also terrified of driving. I could be the safest driver in the world, but yet their could be a drunk-ass man out there driving and he could hit me a kill me like a little bug on a windshield. So what do I do right? I can't leave to go anywhere, well I don't leave actually at all unless I need food. I run an online store in my apartment, and I take online courses for college to advance my education further and further. I leave my apartment only for food, and only if it is absolutely necessary. I think the last time I left was about a month ago now. I stock up on canned goods, ramen noodles, and lots of food that can last awhile so I can buy in stock and not go out as often. 

My entertainment is just watching TV, movies on Netflix, and maybe some video gaming (I buy all my gadgets and thing on Amazon.com, so they are shipped straight to my door). Oh that's not always the best though because I do not trust the man that comes to the door. What if he is broke, depressed because his wife now wants a divorce, so he brought a gun to kill me and take all my money? God scary moment everything a delivery guy comes. I hate it.

You make think I am crazy right? I am not though. I want to live for a long time and not be killed, so I decided to live my life in fear. All of this because of that guy who kidnapped me when I was only 12 years old. Before that I used to go up to random people and say, "Hi, how are you today sir?" I used to go out with my friends, and be the life of the party . . . what has happened with my life? Isn't better to live life to it's fullest instead of living it in fear. I have no life instead of a life like every other human being out their. I sit at home all day and everyday sitting in front of a computer screen running a online store. 

There is a gun sitting on my night stand, and I say to myself, "Why not right? Do it Jessica, I don't have a life anyway!" So I pull the trigger and . . . . ring ring. . . . ring ring. . . Wait guns don't go ring ring right? 

My phone on my nightstand next to my bed it ringing and moving across the surface of the nightstand. I realize it was just dream, a dream of me realizing that my life is a piece of shit. I grab the phone and hit the green button. "Hello Jessica, this is Rachel. You probably don't remember me, but we used friends a long time ago. I was thinking about you today, and was wondering if maybe you wanted to catch a drink and catch up?" 

Oh my god it's Rachel I haven't talked to her in years. "Oh hey Rachel. Ummm . . . I was sleeping . . ." I pause, then say, "but yes I would love that. You know where that bar on Herman's Avenue is right?" I thought it was time I had started not living my life in fear, but living it to the fullest. 

This has been a fictional story by Noah Bitney 

The Mistakes

I told him to slow down, over and over again. I told him to stop passing cars. He was weaving in and out of each lane he was in. The last time I checked his speed before it had happened he was going about 100 miles an hour. I repeated myself even louder, "SLOW DOWN!" He of course didn't listen to me. Why would he? If I would have been a smart person I would, and should have told him to stop and let me out. Sure we were in the middle of nowhere, but I probably had a better chance with that than being with him. It was though already to late for that. It's all to late now.

My friend Bobby and I were heading home from a night out. Just us guys hanging out, doing guy stuff you know? Just having a little guy time. Well we had decided to take his truck to wherever we went. I think I remember us going out to a burger shop and maybe a little time for some shopping at a video game store. I am not sure what we were doing, all I can remember is the ride home. He was just speeding and speeding. He would slow down a little bit, but then pick up his speed again. If there was a car in front of him, and he would just go right around that car without any hesitation. Now you have to realize that we aren't on a freeway or a two lane, one way road. We were on a normal highway, where their are cars going in opposite directions. I was griping the JC (Jesus Christ) handle with all my might. I was sacred out of my wits.

Why didn't I tell him to let me out or soothing? Well it never occurred to me, but I guess there is no point dwelling on what has happened right? I can't change it no matter how much I want to. So anyway we were heading home, and we were about maybe 20 minutes away from my house, when my phone started humming in my pocket. So, I pull out my iPhone and see that my girlfriend, Rachel, is calling me. I pick it up say hello and hear her say,"Hey baby, where are you? I am at your house waiting for you. I thought we were going out?"

I had remembered but I thought I would make her wait for me for once. She used to always be late for me when I would go to pick her up. She would be out with her friends and such. "Oh I am on my way I should be their in about 15 minutes babe. Sorry."

She responds in a irritated tone, "Oh alright see you soon then?"

I say "Yes of course baby! I love you, you know that right?" But that was the last thing I heard and the last thing I said. All of a sudden their was this huge amount of pressure on my chest from my seatbelt. I was thrown forward. At this point I don't even know what the fuck had happened to my phone. I see glass shattering everywhere. Then I feel myself thrown to the side as the car slides on the blacktop towards a tree. I can barely see i, but it keeps getting closer and closer. Then all of a sudden darkness hits . . . .

My eyes open up. All I can see it white as I am looking up towards the sky. I hear some sirens and people screaming and saying, "Oh my god what happened here?" My entire body aches with complete and utter agony. Everything, every inch of my body burns with pain. My eyes start to focus I look down and see that my legs are smashed up, and bent the opposite way. I can start to feel the darkness coming again, but before it comes I see Rachel running towards me tears running down her face. . . .

That was the last thing I remember, and that was the last time I was alive. My name is Roger Kentin, and this is the story of how I died.

This is a fictional story created by Noah Mark Bitney.