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If I had to choose my own death, it wouldn’t have anything to do with radioactive ninjas, killer hamsters, or a zombie apocalypse. I never would have thought a vengeful immortal would have taken an interest in killing me either, yet here I was, dying at the hands of someone I didn’t even know, in lieu of the man I loved. And the funny thing was… I wouldn’t have had it any other way.



I was inside a kaleidoscope. And not just any kaleidoscope; it was filled with a vast array of colors and hues… and it called my name. Repeatedly. Why wouldn’t it shut up?

The stifling heat woke me up before my alarm clock had a chance. I turned over, praying for an extra hour of sleep, and swung my legs off my bed upon seeing the clock; my wish hadn’t been granted. I called my best friend on my way to the kitchen.

“Stella,” I said into my cell phone.

“What the hell, Adele? Do you know what time it is?” she hissed at me.

I smiled. “6:32. Now wake up, I don‘t want to miss psychology again.”

“We won‘t, I promise. It‘s too hot to stay in bed anyway, and I wanna get my Tuesday started right.”

I hung up. Sure, I could’ve given her the extra thirty minutes of sleep, but Stella wasn’t the “time management” type. In other words, she had to try on every shirt, dress, and pair of pants in her cavern of a closet before she settled on something to wear. But I couldn’t judge; I had my own problem. One that gave me a first-hand look into other people’s heads.

I ate my cereal, making sure to wash the bowl, and climbed the spiral staircase back up to my room. The lilac walls I’d painted as an innocent twelve-year-old were now filled with pictures and paintings of my favorite landscapes. I found my love of art when I was thirteen, shortly after discovering my “gift”, as my mother called it.

I got my first taste of empathy when my father, who had received an outstanding speeding ticket, came home with an aura of crimson around him. I could literally feel the waves of aggravation roll off of him. It scared the hell out of me, to say the least. My mother’s Native-American heritage caused her to embrace it a lot faster than I did. “The Paiute people are special,” she’d told me when I’d explained my problem. “We have magic in our blood, magic that gives some of us extraordinary power.”

I watched her glow bright green with delight. She took me to her childhood home, on the reservation, to visit my great-aunt Honovi, who was the medicine woman out on the rez. It was Honovi who confirmed my abilities. Her disbelief upon seeing me generated a beautiful halo of magenta around her wide body. She told me that I could sense not only emotions, but lies. She added that with enough practice, I would be able to impose any emotion I wanted on anyone. The entire tribe was impressed. It was rare for a full-blooded Paiute child to be blessed with this kind of power; I was only half. It was a lot for a thirteen-year-old girl to bear. My father, who never believed in the superstitions my mother grew up around, took a while to believe my problem.

I lingered a little while longer; it was nice to think back to simpler times, when I hadn’t been cursed with the ability to sense the emotions of every person I came in contact with. But I had to accept what I was: an empath. Don’t get me wrong, it was handy every once in a while, but being constantly assaulted by other people’s feelings got really old, really fast. Especially in high school. With my disability, I found that pregnancy scares, love triangles, and all-around scandals were present among the staff as much as the students.

I fished around in my closet for a while, and came out with something presentable to wear in the overpowering heat. I threw it on, grabbed my bag and car keys, and made my way outside. The Southern Nevada sun greeted me with a surge of warmth. It wasn’t abnormal to be this hot in late October. After all, this was the desert.

I hopped into my champagne-colored Altima, and pulled up in front of the apartment Stella shared with her older sister fifteen minutes later. I honked a few times, and saw that familiar face observe my car from the upstairs window. It disappeared five seconds later. I waited for another fifteen minutes (which seemed like forever, there was nothing on the radio) before my best friend made her appearance. As she stepped into my car, my jaw dropped.

“Nice outfit, Stella.” Her ensemble put my jean shorts and white v-neck to shame.

“What, this? Oh, it‘s just something I threw together. It‘s nothing, Adele.” Her hot pink short-shorts, lime green sequined camisole, and matching flip-flops were nothing - for her. Stella’s weekend outfits were always more flamboyant than what she wore to school. Not that she didn’t have the body for it.

Stella‘s thin, willowy figure could make a trash bag look good. Add her straight golden hair, electric blue eyes, and model legs, and you’ve got yourself one life-size Sex Appeal Barbie. To be honest, her appearance was part of the reason we were such good friends. Stella didn’t worry over her looks like lots of other girls our age; her certainty made her a more content person, and it was always nice to have a fresh wave of happiness every once in a while.

On the drive to school, I got distracted by Stella’s changing emotions. She went from calm, to unsure, to bored, and back again. I secretly wished I was a telepath instead of an empath… it sure would be easier to find out what was bothering her.

We parked in the student lot, and made our way into Chatham High’s science building. It’s not like I hadn’t expected it, but the onslaught of emotions that hit me when I walked in the school struck with as much force as a cinderblock. The change in emotion settled, and Stella and I met up with our friend Connor, who hugged us both, a sly smile on his lips.

“What‘s with you?” Stella asked.

“I can‘t be happy?” he said, and upon seeing Stella’s face, added, “Guess not. But if you must know, I just got invited to the Halloween party of a lifetime.”

“Ooh, sounds fun,” I said, interested. “Are you going?”

He smiled, and replied, “Of course I am. And you two are, too.”

“Yes!” Stella said, at the said time I muttered, “Why?” Stella whirled on me, her body emanating a lemon colored air of disbelief.

Connor, ignoring Stella’s shock, replied, “Why not, Adele?”

I knew why not. Parties might’ve been my thing, if it wasn’t for my problem. Sure, I could block out every feeling in the place for a couple of hours, but it would leave me exhausted for at least two days. Dammit. Connor’s aura was turning blue, and I could feel his disappointment. I didn’t want to force a false happiness on him, so I did the next best thing.

“Okay, okay… I‘ll go.”

“Yaay!” said Stella. “I knew you‘d come through, Adele. But we got to get to class, the bell‘s gonna ring in a couple of minutes.”

We climbed the stairs, and made it into Psychology class earlier than expected. I walked to the far right side of the room, near the back. Students were seated two to a table, but there was an odd number of us in the class. I let Stella and Connor share a table in the middle of the class, while was seated in the back, with a table to myself. Mrs. Laskus, our lovable Psych teacher, began lecturing on various mental disorders to choose from for an upcoming project.

Then a few things happened at once.

The phone rang, Stella threw a ball of paper across the room, no doubt homework she hadn’t done, and the most attractive guy I’d ever seen entered the room. It was like time slowed down; he looked around, searching for something, someone, and fixed his violet eyes on me. I smiled. What else what I supposed to do?

I watched him inhale deeply, and he smiled back at me. Then I noticed - he didn’t have an aura. No feelings, no emotion, no… nothing. Why the hell couldn’t I sense something? This didn’t make sense.
Maybe I’d just test him; after all, I’d never come across someone who was resistant to my sixth sense. I concentrated, and created a huge invisible cloud of sadness. If he was immune to this - no, he wouldn’t be. I had complete confidence in my power. After a couple seconds, everyone in the room had a blue tinged air about them. I noticed a couple of girls started crying. Even Mrs. Laskus had a look of complete misery on her face.

I felt bad, making my entire class feel like crap. I noticed the guy in the doorway had a smirk on his face. Did he know what I was doing? I hated him for it, even if he didn’t know about my ability. But god, was he gorgeous! He stood at about six feet, maybe a couple inches taller. His angular face looked as if it was carved from polished marble. I longed to know more about this guy, to find out why I was literally senseless around him. Okay, I wanted to do a little more than ask a couple of questions. But my hormones would have to wait, because Mrs. Laskus was directing him to the only empty seat in the room.

The one next to me.

He strode across the classroom, never breaking his gaze on me. I kept my eyes locked on him too, like I could help it.

He sat down, and turned towards me. “Nolan,” he said in a voice so silky I’d wrap myself in it.


“Adele,” I replied, shaking his extended hand. I decided to project an emotion one more time just to make sure…

“I‘d really appreciate it you‘d stop that,” he said, smiling at the notes he’d taken.

“What are you talking about?” I decided to act ignorant.

“Oh, come on,” he said, running a hand through his messy black hair. His violet eyes evaluated me, which sent a little shiver down my spine. Apparently Nolan noticed, because his next words were, “What? I can‘t like what I see?”

I disregarded his question; I didn’t need to be caught up in an awkward situation. Instead I asked, “What are you?”

He smiled again, but turned back to his notebook. “Wouldn‘t you love to find out?”

2



“Just a small town girl, livin’ in a lonely woorld,” Stella sang, one hand on the steering wheel. Our hair whipped in the dry desert air as she drove. I watched a few tumbleweeds roll by. I was still thinking about that new guy, the way he studied me with those deep purple eyes. Like he knew something he shouldn’t. Stella detected my

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