My name is Isabella Boone. I'm twenty five and live in Charlotsville. I've had a special gift my whole life but didn't know what it was called or how it worked until I was sixteen. I moved to Charlotsville at eighteen years old to attend college at Bartston university where I continued my major in psychology and graduated at the top of my class. My high school psychology teacher referred me to Charlotsville's Bartston university. Psychology helped me identify my gift and learn how to use it. The authorities and detectives around Charlotsville and surrounding towns know of my gift and since my first case with them they use my gift to help others. My first case was after college and after I had also gotten a job. This first case is where my story starts.
It was a hot August day and my first weekend break from moving off college campus and into my own house and my week day job at Healing Hope, where I am a councilor for teens and young adults. I'd just sat down with my cup of tea and book when I saw her. A fragile, blue eyed, fawn haired young woman. She didn't speak as usually they don't for the first visit. I let her loom around my home while I sipped my tea and read my book.She looks at my book collection on the bookcase, not picking them up of course because she can't. She wanders around the living room and then out into the backyard. Smelling the roses and then sits on the garden bench looking at me through the glass sliding door between us. i wondered her name and what her story would be. She seemed so young and scared so I didn't attempt any conversation but did let her realize I can see her. She was greatful I could see her and i could feel the relief by the change in her eyes. She was the first to not haunt me all day before speaking to me. I let her roam around getting comfortable with the idea that I can see her.
After a few hours of exploring around my home and yard, she came to me. She starts by saying her name is Delta. I put my tea and half read book down and pat the couch beside me. She comes to me and sits beside me. I feel the cool breeze from her beside me.She looks at me awhile with curiosity before speaking again. "you're different than the others I've tried to speak to, they don't see or hear me." "I've been lost for three days and don't know how I got her." I tell her I have a gift that allows me to see and hear the deceased. She places her hand on mine and tells me she can't be dead that she's only sixteen. I feel the pain from her briefly putting her hand on mine. She says all she remembers is that she was walking on a walking trail and then a strong hand with a white cloth went over her face. The attacker hadn't spoken to reveal male or female but the hand she remembers look as a mans hand. Soft but strong. Delta goes on to explain that she had been out walking in a small park's walking trail but thats all she can remember of what she was doing. Her memories and lack of knowlege of what happened got me googling the Chearlotsville missing people website. It came up empty of any named Delta. I asked if Delta was a real name or a nick name she'd been given. She said it was her real name and that she weren't from this town.Being gone only three days makes it hard to find a match in any missing person file and none matched her description or name. I asked if she could remember what town she had lived in but she was too confused, from realizing she is dead and the strength of the drug that her assailant used,to remember. She said that she was still trying to remember. She held up her wrist and said this is the only reason I know my name. A silver bracelet that had the word Delta inscribed on it was on her wrist. I didn't want her even more shocked so didn't tell her that it may not be her name. I asked her to relax and try to concerntrate on the moments before the attack. She did and said she'd been out walking in the cloths she has on and that she had been thinking of a failed exam at school that day. She goes on to explain that she'd been in summer school for her fifth week and that she had to pass the summer course so she wouldn't be held back. She'd been out for the walk trying to get the courage to face her parents. The furthest she could get was the soft strong hand with the cloth on her face.She began to tremble with anxiety and quickly retreated back into the quiet depths she was in when she arrived here.She excused herself and disappeared. I sat down and gathered her conversation and wrote it in my journal I'd kept of paranormal activities I've encountered. I retreat to the internet again searching the lost persons within a hundred miles, finding no one that resembled her or any female her age. I went to the shower and then bed with nothing on my mind except her on my mind. Maybe tomorrow will be better and maybe she would remember something.
© Copyright 2016 smilie. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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