Parallel Visions (2 page)

“
Hey—you okay?
”
Gil asks me, his forehead wrinkling in concern.

It
’
s getting harder to pull in air and my breath is coming in short gulps, now.
“
I ’
m fine, ”
I say. I ’
m not, but if I stop now and get my inhaler, he ’
ll end up seeing me as the sick girl. But if I collapse on him that ’
ll happen anyway.

If I don
’
t stop the wheezing now, the visions will flood through me—horrific fractures of someone ’
s life that will come true if I can ’
t make them believe me. Like Mia, that asthmatic girl in the hospital with me, the one who I knew was going to die. But her breathing had gotten better and nobody believed me until she had another attack—a fatal one. She was ten years old.

I slow down; I sound like a broken railway train. I just can ’
t get enough air.

I stop, hands on my knees, trying to breathe. My chest aches with the effort.
Stay calm. Breathe deeply and slowly , I tell myself, desperately trying to suck in oxygen. But it ’
s like I ’
m drowning. How could I have been so stupid, trying to run out here?

The world around me grows hazy, everything made up of tiny, moving dots of color that slowly reshape themselves. I fight, dreading what I ’
ll see, but the vision sharpens until I can ’
t see anything else.

My sister Jenna cowers against a wall, her shoulders hunched.
“
I ’
m sorry. Don ’
t do this, Mason.
”
Her voice breaks.

“
You bitch. You ’
re sorry?
”
Her husband slams his fist into her chest so hard she crumples against the wall, gasping .

My heart clenches.
Oh Jenna, why didn ’
t you tell me?
I wheeze louder, my sight moving in and out, until I see both worlds at once.

“
You ’
ve got asthma, right?
”
Gil says.

I nod, manage to say “
Yes, ”
through my wheezing.

“
Where ’
s your inhaler?
”
he asks.

I point to the bleachers.
“
In my backpack. Bleachers.
”
It feels like my lungs are filling up with phlegm . “
Black with grey strap.
”

My vision grows hazy again.

Jenna struggles to stand. Mason punches her, knocking her to the floor like a ragdoll. He kicks her chest and stomach. Jenna lies curled up in a ball, trying to protect herself with her arms, but the blows keep coming.

Get up, Jenna; run away!
But I can already see she won ’
t. I clench my fists, still wheezing. I can ’
t let this happen to her! I ’
ve got to stop it—if I get out of this alive.

I try to keep myself calm; it helps me breathe better. The attack ’
s not bad yet, but that doesn ’
t mean it won ’
t get worse. I know how bad it can get—all those trips in an ambulance, the paramedics shouting, the ventilator breathing for me, my parents and Jenna crying...

Gil is running for my bag, calling for Mr. Taylor. Other kids stare as they run towards me on the track, slowing down when they get close the way cars do for an accident. Some even stop to watch me, my breath loud and raspy, my chest heaving. I wish they ’
d look somewhere else.

“
Keep going round!
”
Mr. Taylor yells at them as he runs to me, his jacket flapping.
“
Breathe deeply, Kate, ”
he says, lowering me to the ground.
“
Nice deep breaths now.
”

“
You think you can look at another man, you bitch!
”
Mason screams.

Jenna moans, clutching her stomach as she lies curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“
I ’
m sorry, Mason! I have to talk to him; he ’
s my boss.
”

Mason bends over and slaps her.
“
Don ’
t lie to me!
”

“
I can fix it. I ’
ll work less shifts.
”

“
That ’
s good, ”
Mason says.
“
You know I never wanted you to work.
”

“
But we need the money, baby.
”

“
No we don ’
t, ”
Mason says, his face in hers.

I want to scream at Jenna to get away. I don ’
t even know if what I ’
m seeing is in the past or the future. But somehow I don ’
t think it ’
s happened yet.

Gil is back now, my knapsack in his hands.
“
Where is it?
”
he says.
“
Where ’
s your inhaler?
”

I point to the front pocket, my breath rasping and whistling in my chest. Gil unzips the pocket, yanking out my inhaler. I grab it, shaking it, then jam the mouthpiece into my mouth, press down, and breathe in. I hold my breath until I cough, and the wheezing starts again.

Mason hauls her up and slams her against the wall.
“
Why did you take thirty dollars out of our account without asking me?
”

Jenna shakes.
“
I ’
m sorry! They ’
re having a baby shower at work for Patty. I had to get her something.
”

“
You swear it wasn ’
t for your boss?
”

“
I swear.
”

Mason smashes his fist into a framed photo beside Jenna. Glass shatters, raining down. The photo is of our family: Jenna and me, our arms around each other, so obviously sisters, Dad on Jenna ’
s side and Mom on mine.

Mason grabs a shard of glass and presses it against Jenna ’
s throat. A bead of blood forms and trickles down her chest.
“
You can ’
t keep doing this to me, Jenna. I need you. You ’
re the only one I ’
ve ever needed. You can ’
t look at other guys.
”

“
I wasn ’
t! I swear I wasn ’
t.
”

Mason drops the glass.
“
Show me you love me.
”

She looks so vulnerable, her eyes terrified as she drags her gaze up to him.
Don ’
t listen to him, Jenna! Don ’
t trust him!
God. I can ’
t let him do this to her.

My chest aches as I struggle to draw in air. I don ’
t know how I ’
m going to help Jenna. She always acts like Mason is her knight in a shining pickup truck. I ’
ve got to find a way to get through to her, stop letting her push me away so much.

I shiver. I
’
ve never had so many strong, clear vision fragments, one after the other. I wonder if it ’
s because it ’
s about Jenna.

Mr. Taylor rests his hand on my shoulder.
“
Nice, easy breaths, ”
he says.
“
You ’
re okay, Kate. You ’
ll be okay.
”

I
’
m still gasping and hacking like an old smoker, my chest heaving in and out, my flesh tight against my ribs. Students keep slowing down to look every time they pass. Butterflies flutter above the flower beds, floating gracefully on the air I struggle to take in.

Gil hovers in front of me. I don ’
t want him seeing me like this, but I don ’
t want him to go, either.

I use the inhaler again. It ’
s hard to wait between puffs when you feel like you ’
re suffocating.

My visions shifts, the world around me fading. Another scene comes into focus.

A girl with bronze skin and dark eyes like Gil ’
s sits hunched over her desk, her hair limp and greasy, her black T-shirt and sweatpants hanging off her. She stares at a tattered photo of a dark-haired woman smiling at her and a boy—a much younger Gil!—then crumples it up.

The girl lines up prescription bottles on her desk with shaking hands. Then she picks up a glass of water, pours out a handful of pills, and swallows. She takes another handful and swallows again, her throat convulsing.

I kneel there, horror making me cold. I ’
ve never seen a suicide before—a suicide that hasn ’
t happened yet. How can I stop this girl from killing herself? I don ’
t even know her.

The weight of two people ’
s lives presses down on me, making me feel so heavy I can barely keep my head up. I cough. I have to do something.

I don
’
t know the girl ’
s name but I ’
ve seen her at school, and I know she ’
s connected to Gil somehow. She ’
s a year or two ahead of me; normally I wouldn ’
t even notice her, but there was something about her... I squint, trying to remember.

And then it comes to me. I remember her being targeted—students calling her dyke and lesbo , bumping into her or tripping her. It was a big thing a few months ago and I felt sorry for her. I haven ’
t seen her lately, but I didn ’
t think anything about it; it ’
s a big school .

I wheeze once more, my neck tight, tears in my eyes. I know I can ’
t let that girl die.

I
’
ve never seen visions about two different people at the same time. Sometimes I can ’
t even save one person. How am I going to save two?

The attack is easing up now and my breath isn ’
t so noisy and labored.

“
Are you okay enough to get to the nurse ’
s office?
”
Mr. Taylor asks.
“
Or do you need an ambulance?
”

“
I ’
m fine. It wasn ’
t a really bad attack.
”
But it wasn ’
t mild, either.
“
I could stay out here with the class.
”

“
No, you can ’
t, ”
Mr. Taylor says.
“
You know the protocol, Kate.
”

I sigh, the sound loud and whistling. I ’
m lucky the nurse, Mrs. Williams, is in today. Otherwise I ’
d have to go to the office and they ’
d phone Mom to pick me up—if they didn ’
t call an ambulance first.
“
Okay, I ’
ll go to the nurse.
”
I get to my feet, feeling shaky. Asthma attacks are exhausting.
“
Can Gil take me?
”
I say.

Mr. Taylor looks over at Gil, who nods.
“
Sure.
”

“
Please—don ’
t call my mom.
”

Mr. Taylor shakes his head.
“
I ’
m sorry, Kate—you know I have to. Parents have to be notified after every asthma attack.
”

Gil takes my arm and I let him, though I can walk just fine. We start off across the field toward the school. Its dark brick, small windows, and high wire fences look unwelcoming.

“
You should have told me, ”
Gil says.

“
Told you—?
”
For a second I think he knows what I ’
ve seen. I cough, the pain in my chest easing a bit more.

“
That you weren ’
t feeling well. I wouldn ’
t have run so hard.
”

“
I wanted to run with you.
”

Gil stops.
“
Yeah, but that ’
s not cool, Kate. I don ’
t want to make you sick.
”