Page 9 of Counting Quarters

Chapter Four

Blaire

Thewindblewits way through the trees, rocking them back and forth against each other overhead as I rested on a fallen log below. The creaking of branches and trunks brushing against one another was somehow both calming and unsettling at the same time. I allowed a few moments to pass as they danced together before slowing the wind and stilling the wood.

I'd never get used to that control over the elements. I tried to use it sparingly, too afraid of the consequences that came with disrupting Mother Nature. I hardly knew how to use these gifts, anyway. Grammy preached about natural balance, yet exercised these powers her whole life that caused nothing but a disruption of that balance.

Who would knowingly choose this life for themselves?

Who would pass this burden onto future generations?

I didn't get it, and I didn't think I ever would.

Shit.I came out here to clear my head and here I was, falling back into the rabbit hole of confusing thoughts.

It'd been this way since Grammy told me about the gift. One minute I was okay, and the next I was breaking down on the bathroom floor from carrying this heavy load on my shoulders.

God, I missed being ignorant.

Steadying my breath, I gave myself five minutes to feel the emotions that took over my entire being. To wallow over what could have been. To mourn what once was. Any longer, and they'd consume me. I knew they would because they already had. I spent the last two months clawing my way out of the depression that they sunk me into.

Not again.

Five minutes, and then they had to leave.

But before my five minutes were up, a stick snapped to my left. I whipped my head around and locked eyes with a glowing, petrified version of Hailey Lukas—a girl I graduated with at Watchtower High. A squirrel scurried up a tree in terror at her appearance. I faced forward again and rolled my eyes skyward with a loud growl.

Why the fuck can't I just have five minutes?

“You can see me,” her meek voice called out in bewilderment.

Hailey was always the quiet, shy type, though she managed to do better socially than I ever could.

And, of course, I could see her. It was my curse. Still, I shook my head, refusing to look back in her direction.

“No, I can't.”

“I haven't talked to a single soul in months. How can you hear me?”

She took a few hesitant steps toward me, stopping about five feet away.

I'm not sure why. It wasn't like I could harm her. She was already dead.

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.”

I should have just walked away. It wasn’t like she could have stopped me, and I wasn't up for playing twenty questions with a ghost. But I'd learned the hard way that she could follow me and, unfortunately, spirits had nothing but time on their hands.

Time to pester and irritate me until I gave them what they wanted—which was closure.

It would be in my best interest to humor the annoying girl, even if I didn't have the emotional strength.

I stood up from the log and pinched the bridge of my nose, still avoiding eye contact. I hated the hazy, hopeful look their eyes always held when they first realized I could see them. Like I could somehow bring them back.

“Okay, what do you need me to do? Tell your mom you love her? Give your dad a hug?”

It was always something so arbitrary that held them back.

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