The Teller (Completed) - H B (nonfiction book recommendations .TXT) 📗

A/N: Not everything in here may be accurate, for that I am sorry. I did some research but I know it might not be accurate. If you think you may be offended by this then I'm sorry. If you think you might be disturbed then don't read this. I have never went to a fortune teller, and I don't believe in fortunes.  As I said, it's purely fictional. Thank you and Enjoy.

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          It was a chilly night, the sky was clear, the stars shined brightly, twinkling with delight. The moon was resting for a few nights, waiting to shine its silver light again. There was a fair going on in town. Word said that they would be here here for the rest of the month. I've never been much for fairs and the like. But my curiosity had ruled out. There was a legendary fortune teller that had been traveling in their company for some time. Her reputation had spread far and wide, which perked my interest greatly.

          I've always held an interest in superstitions and supernatural things. A fortune teller would be a delight to meet. My curiosity and interest seems to have rubbed off onto my father, who was a logical man. Donning on his coat, I followed him as he made his way to the fair. This fairly shocked me, as he was not one to venture into events such as this. To my surprise, however, he entered into the fortune tellers tent. Surprise was an understatement. When I said that my father is a logical man, I mean to say that he relies of the power of reason and proof. If there is no evidence of either one, he will more than likely brush it off with a shrug and count it as a superficial thing that is not worth his time or consideration. 

          Following his lead, I slipped into the tent. I heard a gentle, raspy voice say "Welcome." The tellers voice seemed to float around and pervade the tent, beckoning us to enter. I watched my father as he gulped, both in nervousness and uncertainty. The tellers gaze was on my father, her gentle eyes unwavering. Her eyes briefly met my own, however, it was so fast, flickering back to my father that I must have imagined it. Even if I had imagined it, I could feel a hint of happiness that she may or may not have acknowledged my presence.

          My father took a few tentative steps towards her, before lowering himself into the seat across from the teller. I, on the other hand, slid into a seat near the woman. The smell of incense and citrus could be faintly detected from her robes. She gave me a ghost of a smile, full of sympathy and sadness. 'Ah' I thought to myself, 'She knows.' Giving her a smile of my own, I then focused my attention to my father.

          He had aged greatly in the span of two weeks. His once chocolate brown hair now was speckled with white and grey. His wrinkles had deepened aging him more than necessary. His once shining eye full of happiness were dulled with sadness bagged with dark circles from lack of sleep. He no longer looked like the joyous and happy 45 year old father that I knew, instead he looked like a 60 year old with a lot of pain and ailments. 

          The tellers soft, raspy voice broke through my thoughts. "I give people fortunes" She began, looking at my father. He seemed so uncomfortable, sinking further into his seat. She continued " I will tell them two things. They can choose either one. Good or bad." While she was talking my father regained his composure, his determination rolling off of him in waves. His goal, to finish what he started and to find out what he wanted to know. His voice was deep, slightly cracking in the beginning, and his answer was short and clipped, filled with determination and despair. "I want to know both the good and bad for the sake of my child." I was shocked, not by the fact that he was asking about me, but because his once melodious voice that would always soothe me, was so full of sadness, despair, and hurt. 

          "Very well," casting a quick glance in my direction. She rose from the table and walked over to another table near the back of the tent. She picked up a stack of cards, tarots, I recognized. She slowly walked back in our direction caught up in a slight daze. Her eyes focused as they studied me, then my father. Reaching her chair she sat back down. "Your child" placing a card down that read 'the Devil', "Is sick." The card had a picture of a devil with it's wings outstretched, it's claws covering half of it's face. She placed another card down, this one read 'Death' with a picture of a reaper covered in black with it's scythe dripping blood. "He..." she hesitated for a second, giving both me and my father a quick glance, then continued. "...He will die."

          "However, before his death," placing another card down in front of him, "He will give you strength." The card was 'Fortitude', a lion pictured on the card. Placing another card down 'Creation' with an angel looking down, she continued "From his death, another child will come, and he will bring you great happiness." He will grow to be strong" placing another 'Fortitude' card, followed by four other cards. 'the High Priestess,' 'the Chariot,' 'the Hermit,' and 'the World.' "He will grow up to be knowledgeable, victorious, wise, and blessed."

          My father had been struggling to maintain his composure after the first card was set down. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Thank you" was all he managed to choke out after he gave her the appropriate pay, then walked towards the entrance of the tent. He walked out into the chilly night wiping his eyes as he walked further and further away from the tent.

          "Thank you," I told the teller. She smiled gently at me and with a sad voice told me to hang on for a little while longer. Drifting back towards the hospital and towards my room, I looked upon my hospital bed that held my lifeless body attached to millions of wires and tubes hooked up to different machines and bags. The sight of my body was depressing. My color was so pale you could almost point out each and every one of my veins. I was skin and bones, my bones protruding from every spot on my body. 

          A few hours later, after inspecting my body and drifting through out the hospital, my father and mother walked into my room. Both had red, puffy eyes. Most likely from the revelation that my father received not to long ago. Settling back into my body, I willed my eyes to open. If I was going to die, I will die using every last drop of my strength and spend it all on the last few hours I have with my parents. "Hey" I told them, pasting a small smile onto my face, "Don't cry, it's not the end of the world yet." I chuckled, pain shooting throughout my body, but I choose to ignore it. They didn't need to worry anymore than they had. 

          I motioned for them to come closer, and they settled on either side of my bed. Smiling inside, I silently thanked the teller for her generous fortune. Holding the hands of both of my parents, for what I knew would be the last time, I began my goodbye. The tears had been endless. We laughed and reminisced on the good and bad times we shared. My life may have been a short span of 15 years, but I knew that we all fought will everything that we had and could. 

          It was now in the early hours of the morning. Both of my parents were asleep on either side of me. Tear stains streaked on both of their faces. I kissed both of them, wiping away the tears that were still there. I whispered worlds of endearment to them, and wrote a short note to them and to my doctors. "I will always be looking after you, I love you."~ to my parents, and "Thank you for everything." ~ to my doctors and nurses. I had left a lot of letters in my room for them to find later on and distribute to everyone that I knew in life. Settling into my bed, I closed my eyes for the last time, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. Then I was looking at my body once again.

          I watched a little longer than I was suppose to. I watched as the machine continued their flat and piercing beep. My parents stirred woken up by the deafening tone. My mother shaking me,begging me to wake up, fresh tears welling in her swollen eyes. My father was frantically pressing the button calling for a doctor, begging them to save me. Both had tears streaming down their faces. I couldn't bear to watch anymore, so I let myself my taken into the light.

          Oh teller, may your fortunes prove true, only then will I be able to rest in peace.

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A/N: So how was it? Comment. Add. PM. Recommend. :) Thanks for reading. 

Publication Date: 02-03-2014

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