Dangerous Intuition by Tasha Kessler (read after TXT) 📕

about anything today, he hit me with a game of twenty questions. “Your white blood cell count is very high. Do you know why that is?” He seemed almost angry about something. But how could anything in my blood make him angry? I just stared at him in blank confusion. “And you seem to have some kind of infection as well. The nurses and other doctors can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong.” Ugh. The way he said word ‘doctors’ got on my nerves too. “Megan. Do you know anything about your family histories?” Well that was a new one…Not. “I thought you already had all the information on my family’s medical history.” I asked in a tone that said I was both already bored with this and tired. “You misunderstand. I have your family’s medical history. I am asking you if you know anything of your family’s origins.” He said the word slowly, caressing it as if I was supposed to catch on to some underlying meaning. It gave me the creeps. I shook my head and gave the most honest answer I had. “I’m not really sure what you mean. My mother’s family has been in America all the way back to the tea party. And you already know I don’t know who my father is.” I stared at him in confusion. “Are you sure you don’t know who your father is?” What was he really asking?

The next day I was released from the hospital. I don’t know what happened. Why would they release me after attempting suicide? Did they realize that my being there was the reason behind my depression? Did they think I was cured? Maybe it had something to do with that infection I had. Maybe I was sick and they didn’t want to catch whatever disease I had. Whatever. I was free now, did it really matter why? I was up all night. I couldn’t get rid of this feeling. The last conversation I had with Dr. Argyros playing over and over in my mind. The way he was asking about my family history. And about my father. It was like he knew something…. And was making sure I didn’t. I couldn’t shake the feeling that that conversation, that whatever it was he knew that I wasn’t supposed to know, was the reason I was out.
New Beginnings

From a very young age I knew that I was different. Always sensing things, knowing, almost seeing them before they happened. I knew when I was going to have a headache, when a red light would change, or when someone close by would light a cigarette. These were things that had always happened. Small things. Days, sometimes weeks into a general future, one that usually involved me in some way. Something that was not substantial and could be changed. After attempting suicide three weeks ago, these.....feelings, became even more prominent. Stronger than before. Ever since I was released from the hospital... I don't know, it’s hard to explain. It’s almost as if I can see into people. Not only their immediate futures- but months, years into their future... even their deaths, and I could see their pasts as well. Every wrong, everything that no one wants anyone to ever know that they’ve done. It was hardest around people I loved. To know things, that no one should know. Least of all me.

I had to distance myself. Create a new beginning. Get some kind of substantial hold on my gift if that’s what you would call it, and what it could now do. Right now it felt like more of a curse. I couldn’t believe what I just saw. There is nothing in the world that could have prepared me for that. Nothing that could ever make it better. I was unwanted. I was a mistake that had resulted from trying to eradicate another mistake. To find out this way…. To find out at all. It’s not right. I needed to get away from here. Learn to control this thing so I wouldn’t have to see anything like this again if I didn’t want to. But first I had to know. I had to ask her… I had to ask her why.

“Mom?” It was hard to call her that now, knowing what I now knew. I felt bile rising in my throat at just the thought of it. I was so confused. I still loved my mother, but I felt so hurt, and sickened by what she had done. Maybe if I found out why… maybe if there was a good reason… “I need to ask you a question, and this is really hard for me. But I need to know.” Even if I didn’t really want to know the details as to why she would have done that horrible thing, I still needed to know. I only saw things that would happen, things that had happened…. Not the reasons or feelings behind them. “Anything. Megan, you know you can come to me with anything…?” My mother seemed so sincere. She must have some regret, some part of her that did really love me… right? “I need to know why. You tried to kill me, Mom. I- I need to know why you tried to have me aborted.” I had stumbled though my question and it came out more as a statement than anything else.

My mother just stood there slack jawed, confused. Unsure of how I knew. Tears started streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry. I was young and I was scared. The man that…. Your father. He was so handsome and charismatic. I- I couldn’t say no. I wanted to… but it was like my mind was screaming and crying out ‘No!’ but my body wouldn’t stop, and my mouth wouldn’t do what my mind was telling it to. I wasn’t raped. Not really. But it felt like it. Emotionally I mean. He took advantage of me. I was only 16. I didn’t know what else to do. I regretted the abortion every second from the moment I walked out of the hospital. When you…. When I found out that I was still pregnant after the abortion…. I- I was so happy.” “ I thought it was a sign. You were meant to be no matter how you got here. I hoped and prayed everyday that you would be ok. That I wouldn’t have some type of complication from the abortion that caused me to miscarry or have you too soon. I was told there were no birth defects and you were a healthy baby girl and everything just fell into place for me. They told me that you were a twin. Your brother is who I had aborted. Luckily they didn’t see you. They didn’t know you were there. I cry every day missing him. Knowing that I could have had a son as well. Knowing that I killed my own child. But somehow- When I look at you it’s like being told I have a second chance. I never wanted you to find out. I’m so sorry Megan. How…..?” Whoosh. There went my air supply. I hadn’t expected this. My mother had been raped. Not physically it seemed, but in every other way that counts. I could no longer blame her for anything. I no longer felt disgusted- not with her anyway. I would have done the same thing. Only I’m not sure I would have regretted it. I no longer felt hurt. My mother did love me and I was wanted. My mother hadn’t thought me the mistake, but her choice. And I had a brother. Not living but a brother just the same. I found myself mourning his absence even though I only just learned of his short existence. “I can’t tell you how I know, Mom. I just do. I don’t even really know how I know- but… thank you. For being honest with me. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect that.” Now we were both crying. “ I love you Megan. Please never doubt that.” My mom said, as she reached out for a hug. “I know , Mom. I know.” We said our goodbyes and I started heading for my hotel. I hadn’t gotten an appartment yet and I wasn’t sure I wanted one. It seemed like after rent and bills and all that that it pretty much evened out with the cost of a hotel. And this way I got free house keeping. I thought it was pretty clever.

Something blurred passed me in an instant so quick that if it hadn’t been for the wind it created brushing my hair back I would have thought I had imagined it. Especially since I hadn’t seen anything. It was probably just a big bug or something. Maybe an owl. As soon as I got to my room I flopped down on the bed with such enthusiasm that I almost bounced back off the side. I would get up in a minute. I promised myself a long relaxing bath. Just as soon as my legs stop screaming from the long walk home.

There was blood everywhere. I didn’t know where I was. It looked like some kind of maze. A labyrinth. Possibly underground. I was lost and starting to panic. “I don’t know where I am” I mumbled to myself. “I can’t find my way back. I can’t get out. I have to get out!” I screamed. “Where are you?!” who was I looking for? I couldn’t tell. I was afraid. I knew that much. More afraid than I remember ever having been in my life. What was going on? I couldn’t make heads or tails of this vision. I was lost somewhere in a panic looking for someone and I didn’t know who. I looked down at myself and saw that I was covered in blood. “I have to find him. I have to help him. I need to get out of here! Someone please help me!” It felt like I screamed it at the top of my lungs.

Suddenly I was lying on my bed in the hotel room looking up at the sealing. “Ohmigod! Are you OK?” I turned, confused trying to find where the voice was coming from. The maid was standing over me with a horrified look on her face. “I’m Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in- You screamed for help. I came in and saw you…. Your eyes were open and blank white like they rolled back into your head. Are you ok? Did you have a seizure? Should I call 911?” She was starting to panic. “I’m fine.” I lied. I wasn’t fine. I was scared. I didn’t know what to make of this. I had never actually talked or screamed during one of my visions or dreams. And as for the eyes I didn’t know if that had happened before or not but it freaked me out either way. Nothing