Hello, this is my sorta new piece of mine with a combo of my old works. [Remember: Tips on anything is highly appreciated.] I do have a tendency of switching tenses sometimes. Advice for that will be helpful. Any other pointers are wanted, too.
One - Edited
The sound of the seagulls and crashing waves was soothing and calming, but the annoying noise of my alarm clock had waken me up to an early start at seven in the morning. Why did I set it this early? Moaning, I tossed in bed not wanting to get up for the day, but the sound of footsteps outside my door thought otherwise.
“Honey, time to wake up for school,” mom didn't open the door or force me out of bed like she used to when I was young. Kicking and screaming, not wanting to go to grade school. It wasn't that I was afraid or scared of school, I was just too tired, like any kid would be.
I usually spent my childhood nights reading underneath the blankets, of different lands and adventures. Of heroes and monsters, even fair maidens captured by evil villains. Those tales and so many more preoccupied my thoughts, I sometimes believed that those mythical creatures were real. Not anymore.
Sure, I thought Santa Claus was real at a time, then I found out that my parents bought and wrapped the gifts. It was a disappointment but I knew I had to grow up. There was a time I thought the tooth fairy was real, but those were childish dreams.
I didn't believe in monstrous creatures like vampires and werewolves. I did believe that some people could see ghosts and that they communicated with them. From mermaids to fairies, they were mythical beings that I once thought of, but not anymore.
There was one mythical creature, that I definitely didn't believe in. Humans that could live forever? Yeah, right. That's not even possible. There was no possibility that there were immortals out there. Maybe some crazy scientist could invent some potion that could turn you...immortal.
Anyway, I don't believe in that mumbo-jumbo stuff. What I do know is that I once believed in things like that when I was a kid, but not anymore. I've grown up over the years. It's sad to say, but I have.
Realizing the minutes passed of thinking upon memories of long ago, I pushed myself out of bed, with sleep still in my eyes. My new room in my Grandmother's cottage was upstairs, with the basic stuff. On the left side was the mahogany dresser and the old fashioned bed, with a chestnut crate at the end. A place to store all those fond memories. To the right was the desk with my books and the laptop mom bought me when I started high school two years ago. The one thing I loved about my room besides the old Victorian looking vanity, was the open window that outlooked the beach. The best of all; the window seat.
Baby blue and white pillows of all sorts of sizes piled upon each other. The rectangular seat with a sea green cushion, overlooked the sea. The navy blue windows shafts were pulled back letting the cool ocean mist drift inside.
Being the beginning of December, I choose to wear a black and white striped sweater and jeans. With of course black sneakers. Finishing up, I hurried to brush my ash blond hair, grabbed my school bag and left downstairs.
Mom was already cooking her specialty blueberry pancakes, with grandma Bessie eating the ones she had cooked so far.
Mom's dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, even though some strands were coming out and was wearing a seashell apron. Dad's was ash blond and so was Bessie's. Except Bessie's hair was mostly fully white down in one long braid. She was wearing a long skirt full of assortment of colors and a white tee. Isn't she cold?
“Morning dear. How was your first sleep in the cottage?” Bessie who already had taken a bite of her pancakes, glanced up from the daily crossword. “You know, I never got how these things worked.”
Taking a seat, I glanced at the paper, “Bessie.” I never called her grandma. “It's a pretty complicated game.”
“Oh.” She whispered lightly. “Well, I guess that's one thing I never got, but-” Giving a heartwarming smile she went on. “At least I have my bingo. Can't get enough of that.”
As we both laughed mom came by to sit down and we started eating. “Oh, Bessie. The first night was amazing!”
“How so?”
“I left the shutters open just a crack letting the cool night breeze in, so I could hear the waves crash onto the shore. Plus I had a great night sleep, but with a really odd dream.” Mom and Bessie suddenly exchanged weary looks, “What?”
Mom was looking a little sea sick, “Honey, what type of dream did you have?”
Great, just when I thought it had all gone away, it had came back. Probably to haunt me. “Mom I don't think the dream had anything to do with The Sight. It was probably nothing.”
As I grew up from being a kid to a teen, I learned of a family secret. On my dad's side who's mother was Bessie, came a gift. The family line went far back. The gift came from every generation to generation to every female in the family. Because, Bessie had dad it of course skipped him and went straight to me and mom didn't have it.
The gift or The Sight was a powerful thing to have. I could take a glimpse of the past and relive everything it beholds. I usually got strong visions but never vivid dreams like last night. Bessie's sight was slowly going away due to her age, so it was just me and I didn't have any siblings.
I never used The Sight for negative and well, useless purposes. It was always to help someone or people to move on. It would usually happen like this: I would touch an object of a deceased person and relive how they died. No matter how far back it might go, I still saw the past. There was no way I would touch a real dead person, so I just choose to touch objects.
If I didn't relive how a person died, it was either how a person lived back then. I used to have people ask me how their relatives lived. How life was for them in the time. How was the fashion, foods, culture, economy and so much more.
The Sight used to seem boring and bland at first, but it really isn't. I first realized I had it when I turned fifteen.
I was at a neighborhood picnic after someone had passed away. Their health wasn't that great, but the day went on pretty well. People went on talking and enjoying their time even though someone close had died. Anyway, there was tables here and there with refreshments and mementos of the deceased person. I was walking by and saw a picture. It was an old photograph but without the burnt edges. In it was a young couple with a baby in their arms. It was so old fashioned, I thought it was taken at the beginning of the 20th century.
So curiosity took over, and the moment I touched the frame, everything changed. And I just wanted to see what year it was taken.
There was no picnic, no identical houses or brand new cars. The scene had changed, and everything became different. I was standing in a park with people going by. Kids were flying kites, mothers with their babies and dads cooking barbecue.
Then I saw the sign. The Fourth of July picnic and celebration. Except that's not what I was freaked over about. The year on the blue, red and white sign was 1911. I couldn't believe this was happening. I thought I was going crazy.
After blinking a few times and even pinching my skin, I was still there. In that year. So I began walking for a bit, trying to figure out what was going on.
Ladies dressed in bushy dresses and men with suits. As I came by a tent, I called out wanting to see if people saw or heard me. But, no one did. Great, not only am I crazy...I'm also invisible. I knew going to the picnic was not a good idea.
“Smile!” Turning around I saw what I supposed to be here for.
A man was behind a really old camera, like it was just invented and was taking a picture of a family. That family. The one in the picture.
The young lady and I suppose with her husband and their baby. I guess the baby was the old person who just died. Looking into the lens, they smiled brightly like there was no tomorrow and then it flashed.
It was if I was just hit in the face by some bully. An immediate rush of pain filled me as I clutched my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. Instead I felt a little better, I opened my eyes and realized I was back home. Well, the picnic. Glancing at the table, the photograph was there as if I was never holding it.
I then glanced all around me and noticed no one was staring at me. Well, at least they don't think I had a major break down. But, instead I saw mom. She looked like a ghost and was really pale in the face. And that was when I found out about The Sight.
“Sky. Can you hear me?” The present started to drift back into focus as Bessie and mom was staring at me.
“What did you say?”
“Honey are you alright? You don't look so good.”
“Mom, I'm okay.”
“Because I can take you to school if you want me too.”
Giving her the look, Bessie stepped in. “Becky, I think Sky is able to drive herself to the school.”
Taking a deep breath, mom sighed in defeat. “Oh, alright. But, Sky just be careful. I don't want your gift to come back so suddenly after last time.”
Shuddering at the thought, I grabbed my bag and got up, “I don't think anything will happen at the school. Well, bye Mom. Bessie. I have to stop by the office to grab my schedule. And Bessie, when do you want me at the shop?”
“Oh, be there around three but no later than three fifteen. And have a great day!”
As I closed the door to the cottage, I turned around I glanced up at the house. The white wrap around porch, swing seat, blue shutters, potted plants and the flower garden. The cottage looked like a picture from a magazine.
Harsh winds came by and I wrapped my white scarf tighter around me neck. It was cold and the winter season was not helping the situation.
Getting into my car, I drove off hoping that the first day at the Westport high school was going to be good and well...positive.
Here are a few things i noticed though: