Cursed

Suburbia. When I say that, what comes too mind? Freshly cut grass, and perfect houses and families that all look the same. Perhaps? To the naked eye, yes. But what you don't know, is that something darker is lurking within. Here, everyone has a secret. It just so happens that I do too. I see horrible things, terrible things before they happen. And Can't do anything about it. Almost everything I see is horrifying. And there is usually blood, lots of blood. And folks? This is the horrible tale I am forced to tell you.

I almost forgot to introduce myself! My name is Holly and I am very close to finishing the hellhole you call High School. I don't have any friends because of my secret. Since the age of 13 I have been cursed with this so-called 'gift'. More like a curse. I'm not a outcast, I guess i'm quite average. I just push myself away from everyone. When I first started having thse 'visions', I looked it up and realized a had the gift of 'premonition'. I have the ability to see the future. I am not psychic, and I can't read people's minds. I just have visions.

I have not told a soul. For the fear that i'd be stuck in labs for years, psyiciatric doctors examining me. I had even had visions of my father's death. He was coming home from work, when a drunk driver hit the side of his car. Killing him instantly. I didn't say anything, because my mother would probably call me crazy. And the best part was, I had the vision two days before it happened. I did everything I could to stop it, but it was useless. My father died at the age of 40.

So there I was, sitting in my room. Studying, on a saturday night because I had nothing better to do. I didn't want to make friends because I figured if I had gotten to close, I would have visions of terrible things happening to them. Then, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And the worst part is, I'm an only child. I'm surprised I haven't gone insane yet.

My mother is still single, she hasen't dated since my father died. Then, everything slowed down around me. I was having a vision. I saw a boy, maybe about 15. He had dirty blonde hair and glasses. And he was waving at me I guess, we appeared to have been in a living room. That's all I saw until things faded away, leaving me in my room again. Okay, so this guy was waving at me? And I was in his house?

That dosen't sound accurate. I mean, I was never social. No way this was going to happen. I got bored and pulled out a piece of paper and started writing.

I'm just a broken record.
You’re just a broken promise.
Sometimes love just doesn’t conquer all.
I won't chase trains, they move to fast
Like everything else, and I’m left behind

Like your favourite piece of glass
I’m not broken, I don’t need you.
I’m shattered in pieces on the floor,
I’m broken, and you can’t fix me.

I won't force my self toward you.
Because I’ll only leave you broken
Broken hearted [I’m breaking]
Lets not play games this time

You are just a delicate piece of porcelain
You are so fragile, yet you think your so strong.
I will break you I'll watch you fall to pieces
You’re breaking, so close to broken.

I don't want you locked up in my basement;
I want you buried in my backyard,
Where darkness can’t shield your eyes.
A secret between us, the scenery sets in

We’re breaking each other,
this could be the end.
And I, all have is you.
I never wanted you.
and we can go in over our heads,
It depends how far you will go.

so forget about the things I have seen
and I’ll forget the things you have heard.
I'll bite my lips, I’ll hold my tounge.
We won't let these feelings show.
and I’m trying to conceal what’s left unsaid,
but again you’ll reveal it and I’ll leave you for dead.

I’m not broken, don’t try to fix me.

As soon I was finished my door slammed open. It scared the crap out of me, and I must have jumped ten feet in the air. See, one thing I hate about my mom, she never knocks.

"Yes, mother?" I tried to say sweetly even though I was pissed.

"The new neighbors have moved in, I'm going over. You up to coming?" mom asked curiously.

"Umm...No." I trailed off.

"Oh, honey. Come on, make some friends. I'm getting really tired of you being alone all the time."

Oh, with the guilt trips.

"Okay fine!" I half yelled.

I'm not talking, I swear it.

I followed her out the door to about two houses down. I stood in the walkway. It seemed pretty nice. It was white and had cream colored trim. Some of the windows were circle shaped, and the house was quite large. The grass was neatly trimmed, typical suburban home. We walked up to the doorway and rung the doorbell. A middle aged man appeared before us.

"Hi! I'm Karen, and this is my daughter Holly. We came to welcome you guys into the neighborhood!" My mom said in one of her cheery voices.

"Oh hello! I'm Don, come in, come in!" The guy replied.

He stepped away and let us in.

You have got to be one of the biggest fucktards to let some random strangers into your house.

I walked in the house admiring the beauty. Two of the walls were a nice red colour, and the other two were cream.

The couches were also cream, with oakwood trim. The carpet was white. A brick fireplace stood in the far corner of the room.

"Michael! Gerard! We have company!" Don called.

A moment later a skinny boy with dirty blonde hair and glasses came strolling out, just like the boy in my vision.

Along with a slightly pudgy boy with black hair came out, he looked as if he hadn't seen the sun in ages.

"Karen, Holly. These are my sons Gerard and Michael." Don spoke.

"Mikey." The smaller one corrected.

And then he waved at me, just like my vision. The other boy just gave me a smile, which looked friendly. I waved back at Mikey. And smiled back at Gerard.

"Sit, sit!" Don ordred playfully.

So my mother and I sat down on their cream coloured couches, a painting hung on the wall. It was beautiful. It appeared to be of a man and woman leaning in for a kiss. It reminded me of the movie Casablanca. I kept staring at it, admiring it. Until a hand waved in front of my face. It was my mother's.

"Holly, are you okay?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, yeah. Just fine. Just, that painting on the wall. It's amazing!" I exclaimed breaking out of my trance.

And breaking my silent promise to myself that I wouldn't talk.

"Ah, yes. My son Gerard did that." Don said with a smile.

I looked over to Gerard, his cheeks were now flushed with a deep cherry color. He smiled, looking down.

"Your son is quite the artist, Don." My mother added as everyones eyes fell on the painting.

I looked over to Mikey, he wore a pained expression on his face. Looking like he was going to cry any second.

"Yes he is. Gerard drew it as a gift to my wife and I for our anniversary. Unfortunately, she passed away shortly after. " Don said wearing an expression that matched Mikey's. He quickly bounced back though. "Drinks anyone?" he asked with a smile. Changing the subject.

"That would be lovely, let me help you." My mom said following Don into the kitchen, not pushing the topic.

Leaving Mikey, Gerard, and I in the living room. Great.

"So what school do you go to?" Mikey asked with a smile

"Hollingsworth." I said plainly. Maybe if I acted like a bitch these guys would just get the fucking hint.

"Sweet, 'were going there too!" Gerard said with that cheesy grin of his. Just fucking wonderful!

"Whatever." I stated. It was taking all my willpower to act like this. Because before I had this curse, I was the nicest person you'd ever meet.