Delude

I tried to compose my thoughts in order to speak. Instead, I stared at him with questioning eyes. He was watching me closely, his grey eyes narrowed slightly. He chewed one of his snake bites.

“Judging from your expression, I’d say not.” Nixon frowned, his eyes focusing on something across the room.

“No,” I responded, not liking the look on his face. “What is it?”

His lip turned up slightly, almost unsettling.

“Who,” he corrected, his voice calm. “The Sweeper is a person, Casey.”

I shuddered involuntarily at his words. “I don’t understand.”

He sighed; clearly frustrated that he had to explain this further. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sweepers are humans with the ability to cast memories back, behind the more important things.They can manipulate the mind. Soon enough, though, the memories that have been pushed away, depending how strong the individual is, will vanish completely. I believe, but am not certain, that is what Evan is attempting to do to the people around you.”

“Have you been watching some weird movies?”

“Maybe you should just see why I said not to trust him again.”

“Again? But you never—“

He reached out, suddenly, and tapped my temple with his finger. Then he grinned. “Don’t you remember your dream from the other night?”

I replayed his words in my head, trying to find some loophole, to make them not work. I gasped quietly, the realization slowly sinking in. It was a terrible feeling, being different, and now I really was.

“What are you?” I whispered. I wanted to run, but something compelled me to stay.

“Telepathic and Dreamer,” he mumbled, like he was embarrassed by the fact. “I know how all of this sounds.”

“Do you?” I hissed. “Because I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

“I was skeptical when I first heard it, too.” He stared at me, his eyes cool. “I was going to call the police, just like I know you’re thinking about doing. I don’t need your expression to tell me that”

I wanted to wake myself up. Clearly, this was some horrible dream.

“It’s not a nightmare,” he assured me. “Do you understand what I’m telling you now?”

“You’re crazy,” I said, standing. He was up, too, his hands around my shoulders. I thought he was going to shake me.

“You’re afraid you’ll never get your friendship with Jade back, or your mother. You hate your math class and you draw in the little margins of your notebook to pass the time. When you were younger, you got rejected by a boy you liked so you egged his house, only you accidentally broke a window.”

I blinked.

“How am I doing so far?” He smirked.

“You’re close,” I whispered, my bottom lip trembling.

“Oh, and you think your father’s death was your fault.” He stared at me, frowning. “Is that good enough for you?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears built behind them. “That was too close.” My voice was small.

“It was necessary,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

I was aware of the ticking clock somewhere in the room. It thundered in my head and rattled through my body. I closed my eyes briefly, a shaky breath escaping me.

“I wish you knew what was coming,” he said. “It’s important that you know what’s going to happen.”

“I think you should go,” I mumbled.

He stood up quietly, looking down at me. “Tell me you’ll be careful.”

I smiled. “I’ll be careful.”

He left without another word. I wondered if he’d be mad that I lied.