a screeching halt

This is one of the reasons why I don’t think I could do well with children. Besides the fact that sleeping with a woman is not something I’m looking to do, I don’t even think I could manage to pleasure her properly as it is.

I was just walking this morning. I don’t usually spend much time out walking because it becomes painful after too long but I walked this morning, I crossed over to the park and settled along one of the benches. I had wrapped myself up comfortably with a light scarf and my mid-season coat. It was just cool enough outside to be slightly uncomfortable but not cold enough to warrant the heavier winter coat.

There was this one woman with her kids in the park, playing not far from where I was sitting. There was a lot of giggling going on and a lot of chasing. At that point, I was telling myself it might as well just be a shame that I couldn’t really have kids, that maybe it would have been nice but then I shook my head and told myself to forget that idea.

I don’t know how long they played but it was long enough for me to begin to feel slightly achy from the hard surface of the bench I’d settled on. I got back up to my feet, went to the crossing lines so I could get back to my side of the street, waited until the car that had come around had gone and I went across.

It was as I started down the sidewalk to head back home that I heard the screeching sound of one driver hitting the brakes so he or she could get the car to stop moving as quickly as possible and I looked back. There was one little boy, the oldest of the woman’s children from what I could see, who had run across the street, he barely just made it a few feet away from me. The car, forced to its screeching halt, had nearly hit the kid and I couldn’t blame the driver for now looking.

I’ve noticed that it seems as though a lot of people think the roads belong to them, that they don’t need to look both ways before crossing and I’m pretty sure that’s what happened here. The kid is sitting on the sidewalk, as if he’d jumped the last few feet to safety, his eyes are wide and terrified, he’s panting hard. I look at him for a long moment, then I look at his mother’s horrified face and my feet sort of freeze in place. I could very well just have walked away but there was this need to know whether or not the woman would blame this driver, a man now that I took a look, or her child for the almost accident.

She gathered her other children with her, barely looked across the street—thank heavens there was no one else coming around—and she ran across. She stopped by her son, looked up to the driver and I could see the torn look on her face. As far as I was concerned, which in a way I wasn’t at all, it was the kid’s fault, he’d run across without looking. She grabbed her son by the arm to heft him to his feet and she merely hugged him as if her life—and more likely his—depended on it.

The driver stayed still for several more minutes before he slowly started driving away. Now, even if she wanted to blame him for almost hitting her kid, she couldn’t and my feet started moving again.

This really is the main reason I don’t think I could handle kids. For one, I can’t chase after them when they want to play so I’d be in rather fine shit if I couldn’t play with them. For two, if they did decide to run across a street without looking, I would be in no shape to run after them in that situation either and any hope of saving them would be nonexistent.

We’d discussed kids at one point, when Andoni still had been with me, still alive and smiling, we thought that maybe, one of these days, we could consider the idea of having a child or two, we thought about adopting or maybe even trying with a surrogate mother. I was never sure if I could handle the idea of kids but he looked so bright-eyed whenever he spoke of the idea that I couldn’t bring myself to telling him no.

Finally home, I walked around the building to head to the back where I dropped onto the swing set with a soft sigh. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around these things. Do parents not teach their kids that they should look both ways before crossing a street? If we lived in the country, I would say that it’s not as dangerous for how few cars drive around but it doesn’t change the fact that kids are living very dangerous lives now, as if safety no longer is important at all.

The quietness of the yard eased my mind into another mindset. Instead of being focused on what I had just witness, I focused on the whisper-soft voices I still could hear in my mind. I was so used to it by now that I honestly didn’t hear them. I wondered if that was how it was for Eoghan. Though he was so old at this point a part of me wanted to believe that he had managed to find means to be in complete silence without even the hint of a whisper at this point.

I closed my fingers around the bracelet I still refuse to take off to this day and I focused. I built up a wall of water all around my mind, it worked better than a brick wall. I carefully tugged the bracelet off and the voices remained muddled, lost in the wall of water that surrounded me. Of course this wasn’t something I could hold for long but I could manage longer every time, even if just by a little bit.

I released my focus just a little, still imagining the watery wall all around my mind but not with as much force as I was first giving it. The voices grow but barely and I know that my control is growing with me every time I work on this.

After a few more moments, I slipped the bracelet back to my wrist and I let go of the water. I felt it washing over me, refreshing me almost and I sighed. My life had changed since I’d first met Eoghan and the others. At first I didn’t know what to think, I’d been used to my quiet, lonely life though it had been an aching one and now, well now things are looking so much better.

I’m not overworked at the library with the twins helping me. Mira is like a sponge, wanting to learn everything he could. Agni is a little reluctant though barely. There are the weekly shared meals, the movies, the time spent together, the outings and Eoghan still comes at least once a week to give me more tips so I might one day really control this gift.

I don’t know that I might ever live long enough to be able to have control over my gift the way Eoghan does but it still is comforting to know I’m not actually crazy. I thought I had lost it at first with all those voices in my head, I didn’t want to focus too much on it but they were driving me absolutely crazy, I think I did consider jumping off the roof to be done with it all and never have to worry about it again. I would have lost out on a lot of new discoveries, if I’d done that.


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