I am walking and a young boy comes up to me and says, "Your boy is gone, miss." And I tell him, "I don't have a boy." I am confused, and I think the boy has mistaken me for someone else. Then my friend comes up to me with a very serious and worried expression on his face. He is tall and thin and has short red hair and freckles. His eyes are blue. He puts his arm around me and leads me to spot of wall below some wide white marble stairs. We kneel down before a square of white marble which starts to play, like a movie, and I am afraid. I know that my friend sees the future this way, and I am afraid of what would be so important that he would want to show me.
The pictures in front of us show another young boy, and he is MY boy; not my son, but a boy I love and care for. He is far far away in a big city, and he is running, running away from something, afraid of something or someone who is after him. I become anxious. I want to get up and do something, go to him, find him and help him, but my friend holds me there, saying nothing. The picture is not finished. Suddenly, I realize what is about to happen and I start to scream and cry out. I scream "NO!" and yell the boy's name as I watch. I try to push my friend away, but he only holds me tighter, and our eyes are riveted to the picture. Suddenly my boy, still running from his pursuer, runs out into the street and I scream as he is hit by a car.
No comments:
Post a Comment