I have a great many gifts, perhaps not strong, but I can say I have been gifted with them. I have my father’s gift of precognition, I believe it is possible the same owl speaks with me. I dream things that come true, months before, to the point I almost forget them when they finally happen, the earliest one I can remember is when my family took a trip to a state park and watched my grandmother, my father’s mother, fall backwards out of a port-a-potty. The details uncanny were they in the matching between the two, from the clothes she was wearing, to the color of the port-a-potty, how low the light was as the sunset, to the curb she tripped over.
But one of the other gifts I have been blessed with, is an empathic ability, but not a strong one. Having an empathic ability, is the ability to sense other people’s emotions. The easiest emotions for me to sense, are the ones of the people closest to my heart or the ones given off en mass.
I was in second grade when 9-11 happened. I was not old enough to understand what was happening. It meant nothing to me then. The only thing that I understood is something very bad happened that involved a fire and people were dying, and my father, a volunteer firefighter, for reasons I did not know, wasn’t home. At the age of 8, I was unaware that New York was hours away, and my father would not be there. But I was scared for him, none the less. That’s all 9-11 meant to me. And yet, at memorial services, I feel, as if I am choking. My throat gets tight, my eyes dry, as if I had shed so many tears there is nothing left. My chest is heavy and tight, and I can not breath. I get almost sick to my stomach sometimes. The last time, I actually met a woman who lost her husband in the event. I could feel her pain, her sorrow. I get these same sensations at funerals, even for people I do not know, in my service as Volunteer myself. These sensations do not go away until I can walk away, and finally cry myself. I have found myself sobbing over a dead body of a man I never met, a local chief, whom out of respect for the local company, I attended his service.
But perhaps, it is not as interesting as the time my best friend got dumped. She was 15 miles away. And I called her to ask her what was wrong. I felt her pain, the moment he called her to break up with her. We were 15, and we had been inseparable since the say we met and got along like oil and fire. Meaning dangerously well, just ask my parents. It is not the only time that my empathic abilities have been used from far away with her.
We are now 21, and we go to school on separate sides of the state for college, and we Skype as often as we can. more than once I have sensed her emotions. Usually the stronger ones like anger with whichever boyfriend she had. Or anyone else.
It is perhaps a gift that I do not understand. For I sense the emotions of people best when I know them better. Like my best friend 15 miles away, or away at school. Like my Grandmother each time she falls, no matter where she is. I know when she goes to the hospital, before anyone tells me. Perhaps though, that last one is not empathic as much as the owls speaking to me.
I guess, if I were werewolf from one of those shifter romances I love so much, I could easily be an omega, if my abilities were stronger. But alas, that is not my fate, for this is real life. And I seem to be a jack of all trades in the realm of magic, and an expert at none of them. At least, thus far.