"She wished she could read their thoughts, the thoughts of people from the past. She would prefer it to reading the thoughts of those from the present."
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Life is bullshit.
Well, actually, no. That statement is a little dramatic and cynical. To rephrase it, life is sometimes bullshit. It’s a good thing Ismay was a strong and stubborn believer that from bad things, good things will come in a domino effect. For example, if Ismay never had gone into foster care, being pulled from London to go to America, she would never have met Kayden. If she never had been shoved against a locker by that kid, she would never had run away and founded the Safe Haven with Kayden. If there was no Haven, Ismay wouldn’t met all the people she grew to love. In turn, all of that stuff never would have happened if she hadn’t had been born with her power. She didn’t like her power. It’s not that she necessarily found it as a burden in itself, but more or less the thing that caused the burdens, that caused the hurt people felt. If an opportunity were to ever arise in which she could get rid of it, her ability, she would take it. Reading peoples thoughts, causing killer migraines and walking though people’s dreams wasn’t all it was cracked out to be; It wasn’t at like how those fantasy teen books illustrated it like- then again those where usually fluffed up by romances- but that was besides the point. Ismay honestly had no idea how Edward Cullen didn’t just rip his brain right out of his head, as Ismay wanted to herself after reading the book, with all those thoughts constantly flowing in and out of his own thought stream, or why he didn’t just run away forever to bask in the sunlight in all his glorious sparkle. At least May had the choice to turn it off, to an extent. It was difficult to get people to trust Ismay, fully at least. Often times when people found out about her power, they would be hesitant, constantly seeming like they tip toed around her. May always told them that she didn't snoop in their head, that she could turn it off. She respected peoples privacy, knowing that it was perfectly normal to not want some thing to be shared. She had a secret she didn't like to share, and she wasn't going to disregard that other people would too. No one wants someone who knows all there business. If Ismay were in their place, she probably wouldn't trust herself either. But, just because she didn't like her ability didn't mean the whole world and her life was bullshit.
What was bullshit was the fact that she had only gotten two hours of sleep due to her persistent insomnia, and that she sat in the attic at 5:32 in the bloody morning. Nothing good would come out of that.
It was about five o'clock when Ismay snuck out of her basement room and slugged her way up the stoney steps of the main floor and up the rickety wooden ones into the attic room. Not many of the people in the house came up there often, as the house was filled with rooms more unique and interesting. Basically the attic was just stock piled full of old stuff the previous owners of the now abandoned house had left behind or forgotten. It now acted as an old furniture shop for the residents of the Haven to pick from if they needed anything. May liked coming up there. There was a large window and a chair she had set in front of it. This is where she came to be alone, whenever she got the chance too. Now was one of those times. In her pale and petite hands she held an old photograph, one she though to be from the late 19th century. She found it after rummaging through one of the paint chipped desks pushed against the wall. It was a family portrait. She saw a father dressed up in his suit, with his almost too perfectly groomed mustache. A mother, looking snooty and high class, trying her best to look dignified. There was also a little girl, soft brown ringlets spilling over her shoulders as she wore a frilly dress. They were probably old residents of the home, which in its time was probably as beautiful as any of the renovated mansions out and about the world. She had an odd curiosity about them, as she often did with any piece of history. She wanted to know the details of there lives. What the father did, whether the mother sat in the den at nights and read books. She wanted to know what the little girl was like, whether she grew up to be like her mom, or if she fully embraced the playful glint that lay in her eye. She wanted to know how they died, their tragedies. She wished she could read their thoughts, the thoughts of people from the past. She would prefer it to reading the thoughts of those from the present.
Imsay set the photo down, sinking herself into the cushioned seat more as she averted her green gaze out the tall glass paned window, seeing the sun just start peeking out from behind the mountains. She didn't want to dwell on history. She found it unhelpful. She shouldn't crave to know, or crave to change anything from the past. It hurt too much.
Standing up, trying her best to have that sort of spring in the step that always seemed to be a constant thing in Disney movies, she outstretched her arms and yawned. There was a lot to do today, and she needed a lot of caffeine in order to do them. Making her way down the splintered wood steps that would probably need fixing eventually, she peeked down the hallways in which the majority of the bedrooms lied. All the doors seemed to be shut, so she assumed that everyone was still asleep. It was now around 6:00 A.M. so it wasn't odd at all. Making her way back downstairs to her basement room, she shut her door.
Her room was a little large, and a little bare. She had chosen to take up residence in the basement only because she didn't want to take the risk of sleeping in close proximity to those also in the home. Despite having a fairly good handle on controlling her power, she didn't have as great of defenses when she was sleeping, so she had issues with being pulled into other peoples dreams, and other people being pulled into hers. It was just better for everyone this way. In her room lay a bed with a white canopy draping over it. There was a single dresser with an old record player ontop, a makeshift closet, a chair, and then against the far right wall, a stack of hundreds of records piled high. It was her treasure, and her baby. Ismay had one rule, and that was to not touch it without her permission. There was also a punching bag that hung down from her ceiling that some find odd, but it was one of May's favorite things. Why she didn't just place it in another room however, she doesn't know.
Stripping off her Pajamas, which was really just exerciser shorts and a tattered batman T-shirt she got from one of her past foster brothers, she pulled some clothes out from her drawers and put them on, completing her outfit. She tried to wear something a tad comfy, as she would actually be moving around a lot today. First on her list was to go pick up Simon and Skylar at the airport, the new comers to the house. The clock now read 6:30, and she had to be there in forty five minutes.
Running back up the steps, trying her hardest not to make any noise, she made her way into the ever popular kitchen. Filling the kettle with running water from the tap, she put it on the stove element, heating it up in preparations for her morning tea. This had been the most constant thing in her life. Even when she was fostered, every morning she would have to have tea. She had the feeling that if she didn't, she'd feel completely unbalanced all day, which was probably a ridiculous notion. But, none the less, it was her routine and she was to stick too it. After a few minutes, the metal kettle started to whistle and steam spilled out of the spout. May ran towards it quickly, moving it off the element as she mumbled to herself "Hope that didn't wake any one up," small worry being heard in her soft, british toned voice. Poaring the hot water into her white porcelain mug, she dunked her green tea bag until her clear water turned a soft opaque jade. She really didn't have much time to drink it as casually as one should, so she sucked it all back in the span of a minute and a half. Ismay put the cup down in the sink, saying to herself "Well that was a bloody stupid idea," her tongue and throat feeling as it had been set on fire due to the scalding water. Groaning, she had no time to worry about it, she had to get the the airport. Grabbing a piece of paper from the note pad held up on the fridge by a magnet, she jotted down a quick note, and stuck it on the counter.
It was obvious. Her hand writing wasn't the best in the world, and it took a keen eye to be able to decipher the light and pretty scribbles. At least one of them in the house was bound to know what it said, and even if they didn't she did mention the night before about her being away in the morning as to pick Simon and Skylar up. If none of them remembered that, well, she had her barley ever used cellphone with her so they could contact her.
Walking out the large wooden oak doors of The Safe Haven, she began her excursion to the ever painful stone steps down the hill. It took a solid ten minutes to get up and down them, the one painful thing that often kept Ismay from gong into the city unless necessary. The one good thing however was that it kept outsiders from wanting to walk the ever trudging steps. As she reached the bottom, she found herself in the common dirt clearing area. In the area, sat a car. Not a nice car, but a working car at least. The exterior red color she found herself hating was slowly turning to rust at the bottom, but the fact that it was a compact vehicle was a god send in Rome. The car was barley ever used. There was market and cafe's and such that was a five minute walk from the point she was at now. It was a walkable distance. The Airport, however, was twenty minutes away, something that she would most defiantly need the car for. With her set of keys, May quickly started the car, and pulled out of the dirt area and onto the un-busy road, heading straight towards the large airport, something she dreaded.
Finally arriving at the airport, she headed towards the parking lot labeled for pick ups. She had to pay a ticket, but it wasn't much at all considering she didn't plan to be there for too long. Ismay mentally braced herself for the amount of people she was about to run into. She could block out thoughts, yes, but not a hundred at a time. It got a little overwhelming for the girl to be in crowds, but she braved through it as she always did, always keeping that one goal in mind.
Entering the airport, she made her way down to where she was to meet Skylar and Simon, sitting down in the ridiculously uncomfortable plastic hairs.