44 OPHELIA CLARK
November 7
Leaving Isra’s house with no answers was devastating. I’d never felt so alone, with no one to talk to. No one to ask for help. Even the covellite stone seemed to be maxed out on its power to clarify my visions. And night after night, the shadow dream continued to play out the same way. If talking to Officer Caitiff made any difference - if I had actually bent the future, my dream should have changed. But over and over, the sound of a gunshot rang out. The blood oozed from my chest, and the life drained out of me. Some poor soul would suffer this awful fate today, and I didn’t know what to do about it. My stomach was doing back flips as I rested a trembling hand over top of it to settle it down. Keep it together. Breathe.
My mind was racing as I sat in class.
