(32) The Psychic
SYNTHIA
Even through the loud noises like the karaoke playing just beside the house that’s under me, I can hear the loud screams of someone in pain. My heart is heavy and keeps throbbing in my chest at the realization, it was Iona. It was faint but it was there.
I followed a dead kid on top of this roof. He is close to my height, tall for someone younger than me and lead me to a pipe on top of the house that I’m in. I look around the version of the mountains for a bustling slum.
It looks the same as the slum I see in TVs but with a colder weather and the houses looks like they were wrapped in tin foil. All of the houses seems to me like that, to retain the heat it gets from the sun.
“Are you sure?” I ask the kid again, blood still oozes down his head. A part of me did
