www.whyville.net Sep 4, 2011 Weekly Issue

Times Writer

Expiration Date: Part 3

Users' Rating
Rate this article

I shifted uncomfortably in the leathery, green chair in the crowded, hot courtroom. I was being questioned, nonstop and harsh. The judge looked at me with tired eyes, then back to the papers set before him. An attorney paced in front of me, asking about how I knew what was about to take place with the girl.

I sighed, and readied my answer as the final question hit me. "Explain these dates."

"They are white numbers, just floating over your head. Right now, I see everyone's expiration date. I know when you are all going to die. There are two auras I can see; blue and black ones. Blue ones mean you're going to be murdered, that it's not supposed to happen. Black means it's set in stone. I've seen these dates as long as I can remember. I only figured out what they were when I was 15. Sierra's aura was a very, very bright blue. I had to stop it from happening. When we rounded the corner, I saw the two men beating her. The one that my partner shot had that day's date. He was supposed to die then. It was a black aura."

I noticed a bulky man in the back shift in his seat and roll his eyes. His tailored suit screamed 'I have money', but it wasn't just his get up that drew my attention to him. His dark brown eyes were cold, uncaring. He leaned over another man with sandy blonde hair and whispered something to someone, smiling as the man defending Joe Couge stood up again. "Your Honor, I would like one more question." The judge nodded, and my stomach sank. I just wanted to leave.

"Ms. Karr, how do we know that you are telling the truth?" I made eye contact with the interrogator before glancing at the man in the back, leaning in his chair with a grin filled with satisfaction on his face. "Do you have proof that you aren't . . . insane?" He asked.

"Yes, I do." I said simply, defiantly. I watched as the rich man's face dropped, and I had to hold back a chuckle. "I have gone to many doctors, experts, facilities. I've even gone to an institution just to find out if anyone else has experienced this. That search failed me, however, and I still have yet to meet anyone who can relate. But yes, I do have medical proof that something in my brain is miswired, allowing me to see these. All of them are accurate." My voice rang with confidence, and my back straightened just a little bit.

The judge hit his gavel on the desk and dismissed us. I gathered my coat and bag and walked down the steps in front of the courthouse to meet up with Blake. He grinned at me, happy with my answers. "Dude," he said, "did you see that guy in the back? Of course you did, I mean, I only turned around just because you kept glancing back there. What was up with that? He's sketchy, I ain't gonna lie." Blake looked at me, then grimaced as Mr. Couge was escorted back into a police car. He passed us, and glared at me. He'd refused to testify, which I had also noticed caused a look of anger and concern on Mr. Big Money's face as well.

A hand landed on my shoulder, and with the October chill in the air, I jumped. Blake turned around, his arm suddenly around my waist, keeping me close. He was tense, and I stared up at him momentarily, confused about his actions. "Ms. Karr, am I correct?" The man in the rich suit smiled at me, his white teeth gleaming. I nodded, inching closer to Blake. "You testimonial was quite intriguing today, I must say. I am quite surprised you're willing to discuss your illness in front of so many. I'm Jack Manson." He extended his hand, looking at me with something so wrong in his eye. I ignored it.

"I'm sorry, did you say, my illness?" I questioned. When he shrugged, I pulled from Blake's reach and got in his face. "For your information, it is not an illness. It's a gift, because I get to save people with it. People who don't deserve to die. I get to do something productive with my life." I growled, as Blake's hand guided itself around my waist and pulled me back.

Jack laughed. "You're a feisty one, aren't you, Ms. Karr? I like that. I like that a lot. Maybe we could go out sometime." He slipped me his business card, with phone numbers and fax numbers and who knew what else. I took it, wrinkled it up, and threw it back at him. Jack just found that even funnier.

I turned, Blake on my heels. "I'm not interested." I called back over my shoulder, keeping my head held high as I walked stiffly away. My temper flared up, and I walked even faster to my car so as to not do anything I could regret later.


Did you like this article?
1 Star = Bleh.5 Stars = Props!
Rate it!
Ymail this article to a friend.
Discuss this article in the Forums.

  Back to front page