Chapter 5

• Felicity looked around the room before walking over to sit on the couch. Pulling one leg up under her body, she leaned on the arm of the couch and then smiled over at the other woman.
• Sandy sat down in the chair across from her, glancing at the notebook that always sat beside her. She didn’t think she’d really need it today; something told her that this woman was used to the routine as far as the private sessions went. “So, I’m Doctor Gains—Sandy.” The smiling woman nodded her acknowledgment. “I’ve read all the reports, seen the newspaper clippings, so I know all that stuff.” She paused for a moment and studied Miss Felicity Dante. “What I’d like is to hear is all from you—not some misconstrued reporters’ version.”
• Felicity raised both eyebrows at her for a moment before recovering. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.” She smirked. “Where is the how do you feel part?”
• Sandy laughed. “Oh, I might use it at some point, but what I’d really like is the truth.” She tapped the notebook beside her. “I have to report back to the judge that sent you here; it would be a lot easier to play his game if I’m on the same field with you.”
• Felicity nodded and then sat there thinking for a moment. She studied the doctor for a moment, many expressions crossing her face. “You may not like or believe the truth Doctor Gains.”
• Sandy pouted her lips out for a moment trying not to smirk. “You might be pleasantly shocked to see what I am capable of believing.”
• Felicity gave her a skeptical look. “I really don’t know where to start.”
• “Let’s start with the reason that brought you here to my office – then we’ll go from there.”
• Felicity nodded slowly. “Okay.” She looked down at the floor for a few seconds searching for the right words. “I see things. Inside my head . . . like you would on a tv screen I suppose.” Chancing a glance at the doctor, she expected to see that academic look on her face. It wasn’t, she was actually listening to her. “The things I see are things that are actually happening—at that moment to someone else.” She leaned back on the couch, looking around for a few seconds, giving the doctor time to ask questions if she wanted. When silence met her, she continued. “I’m here because of something I saw. Stupidly, I panicked and ran to the police, hoping they would do something . . . anything to help.”
• “What did you see?”
• Experience told her not to answer, but her mouth ignored her head and did anyways. “I saw a little boy, probably around seven or eight, and a little girl; I’d say she was four, if that.” She took a calming breath before going on. “They were somewhere dark and hidden, I couldn’t figure out where—they were scared and upset…” She remembered the little boy cradling the girl to calm her down so she would sleep. “They took the little girl, and I freaked out…”
• “Who took her?”
• Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know, it was dark and shadowed, I couldn’t see.”
• “Where did they take her?”
• Felicity sat forward shaking her head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t connected with her, just the little boy. He was scared and upset. He didn’t want them to take her, then he just cried and cried…” She looked over at the doctor, who surprisingly was sitting forward in her chair as well as listening. “I felt lost and helpless— I wanted to help so I went to the police.” She sat back. “And now I’m here and somewhere out there is a little boy alone, confined in the dark and I have no way to find him.”
• Sandy sat there, looking at her for a long moment. “You’re connected with the little boy? Still?” She nodded. “How do you know these things are in the here and now?”
• Felicity was actually shocked by the question. No one had ever asked in such a way that made her think they might believe her. “I just know. In the past I’ve found . . . people from my visions…” She took a deep breath. “But they were adults, and I could pick up much more that they noticed.”
• “The newspaper stories, the murder, the lost people, all the others— they were true?”
• Felicity looked at her for a long time without answering. Her face said she was concerned, her body language said she had her entire attention. “Yes.” She whispered it like it was a sin she was guilty of because to her it was – all the ones she’d never been able to help. “But there are so many I could never help.”
• “That’s an awful thing to bear.” Felicity just nodded at her. “When does this happen? Awake? Asleep?”
• She cocked her head and studied the doctor cautiously. Was this where the hidden mockery began? “Awake, but I more or less become paralyzed when it happens, at least I think I do because I’m always exactly as I was beforehand.”
• Sandy frowned for a moment. “Do they physically affect you?”
• “Uh - sometimes I’m disoriented or even ill, but other times just tired.” It was an odd question for someone to ask, how would she know to ask it?
• “Is the reason you move around so much because people have found out or is there another reason?”
• Felicity was waiting to wake up and discover she was dreaming this entire time; these weren’t the questions the doctors asked her. “Sometimes that’s why.” She looked at the floor and then back to the doctor. You’ve come this far, might as well tell her the rest. “Sometimes I have to leave because I can’t do anything to help. If I go to the authorities with any of it, it gets me sent to places like your office and I only see things that are fairly close to where I am…” She hated saying it out loud. “So, if I leave, the visions stop and I don’t have to sit and watch the news every night to see the outcome of the latest tragedy.”
• “Self-preservation.” The Doctor whispered as she looked down at her own hands clenched in her lap.
• “Sometimes it’s the only way.” She sat back, looking at the doctor.
• The doctor sat there looking at her for a moment and then grinned. “Would you be entirely shocked if I told you I believed every word?”
• Frowning, Felicity nodded at her. “Yes.” I’m dreaming, this sort of thing would never happen when I am awake. She watched the doctor get up and walk over to her desk and lean as she wrote something down.