We’re here for the first time. This is our first meeting. You look confused maybe even scared. I haven’t shown myself to you. Not yet, anyway. Maybe I never will. I consider leaving without making myself known, but I force myself to stay. I’ve already brought you here. I’ve already come this far. I might as well go all the way.
Mr. Lewis’ voice drones on somewhere beyond. He’s writing more notes, and he’s move to the other side of the board. Someone beside you is closing the window blinds. Another is sleeping. Rain rolls across the window. We know this. We can see and hear these things. But they are merely in the background. Whitenoise in this pure, vacant space.
Really it’s just you and me. I don’t think you realize yet. Part of you is still taking notes, but most of you is here. You wonder why you can’t focus. You ask if maybe you’re sick. I feel bad for doing this to you. You scrunch your eyes and blink them open, trying to wake. You wonder what’s wrong with you.
Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you. I tell you this, perhaps too boldly, because you leap in surprise. You shake your head. There wasn’t a voice. You were beginning to daydream.
I hesitate. Maybe I can leave now. Slink back in my cowardice and let you think that you were just dozing off. No. No, I can’t do that. It’s not fair to either of us if I do that. I came here to tell you. I have to tell you.
“It’s me.” The voice echoes across the darkness. You shudder. I can’t keep you stranded in this doubt. I have no choice. I show myself, without revealing who I am. You see me, a hooded figure. My face is masked by shadows.
You tell yourself to wake up. You tell yourself to leave. You can’t leave yet. I have to tell you. But the panic I’ve instilled in you fills me with guilt. I have to make this more comfortable. I don’t know how. What I do doesn’t do that. Not for me. But you calm down.
I fill this space with emotion. The stagnant, black emptiness suddenly brims with a unique warmth. The warmth increases in temperature as my heart begins to race. I can see you blush. I now it’s worked. I’ve filled you with emotions like mine. I don’t tell you where those emotions are coming from. If I tell you now, you’ll hate me.
Your fear has become frustration and curiosity. You want to know who I am. I don’t answer. I assure you that you aren’t crazy. I tell you how this is happening. The best that I can. There is still much that I don’t understand. I am a psychic. A telepath by nature.
You ask why I’m doing this. Why you. The answer almost bursts out of me, but I reel it back in. I fear you caught a glimpse. Your face is cherry red.
Our surroundings change. I make them change. I put us in Egypt, standing atop the Sphynx. This is not the place for us to talk. I take us to Paris where we scale the Eiffel Tower. Not here. To China during a firework festival. So close, but not quite.
I realize we must go elsewhere. To a land unreal. I begin to construct it, this new, imaginary world. It is both cold and warm. The air is nippy, but we feel as though we have drunk hot chocolate. Snow falls, sparkling in a majestic beauty that real life could not produce. Gentle music plays over the distant hills. It calms your insecurities, and eases my anxiety.
What time is it? How much is left? Reluctantly, I pull away from you. I’m afraid I’ll lose you and this place if I’m gone too long. I swivel around and glance at the clock. It’s later than I thought. It’s far too difficult to perceive real time here. Almost impossible to tell past from present, with all the memories floating about.
I return. I was gone too long. The world had almost faded. I try to bring it back, but remembering is more difficult than creating. I can’t reclaim that warmth from before. You shiver. Too cold. How do I help you? I must help you. This is my fault, and watching your discomfort is too painful. But I don’t know how. How?
You’re warm. Temperature rising. I was filled with comfort the moment you wrapped your arms around me. Now I’m doing the same for you. Together, we are warm. Creating a barrier against the frigid air. We spend what feels like hours there. We almost fall asleep.
I don’t understand why you did this. I scan your mind for logic, but your thoughts are nearly encrypted. I don’t get it. But I soon forget to care. I focus all of my warmth to you.
You ask me who I am. You ask to see my face. I’m not sure. Will you hate me after? Will this warmth disappear? Still, I don’t resist when your fingers slide up to grip my hood. My breath stops and my heart leaps to my throat as the shadows disappear. I look at you. I can’t read your expression. I fear for the worst. It’s all that seems logical.
And then…
You kiss me.
