The Midnight Moonstruck Alpha

MAEVE

Past - two years ago

It’s a carnival. It was supposed to be crowded. What the hell was I thinking?

I have never been the one who liked crowded places, or simply able to fit into a sea of strangers. Thus, since childhood, I was my own person.

Last Sunday when Pastor Roy requested me to volunteer for a charity stall at the carnival, I agreed. Partly because I always felt good to give something back to the underprivileged. For someone like me, whose entire childhood bounced from one foster home to the other, I knew what it felt like to be unloved, uncared and unattended. Obviously money won’t buy happiness; but for children, it can buy food, clothes and toys. Ask a ten-year old orphan what a little worn-out teddy bear meant, you’d know.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled up my hair into a quick messy bun—not the pretty kind they show on YouTube and started to assort the different cupcakes on the makeshift shelves.

“I will have two chocolate cupcakes and two vanilla ones,” a voice called out as I turned around to find a teenage boy pointing at the tray.

“Sure, sweetie.” Walking over, I packed the cupcakes into a box and handed over with a smile.

“How much will that be?”

“Twenty.”

He paid and quickly ran away, disappearing into the crowd as my gaze followed with a small smile. Being around children was always more comforting than adults. Somehow I felt normal around them, and normal because I never had crazy episodes.

“…Miss? Miss, are you there?” A masculine voice snapped me out of my reverie as I looked to my right and saw a man, probably in his forties, plastered a smile and trying to get my attention. “I would like ten of those cupcakes, please.”

He ordered for unicorn cupcakes, a recipe and icing I mastered from a famous chef on YouTube.

“Sure.” I quickly boxed them up for him and was about to deliver when it happened.

The vision erupted.

This man’s memory flashed before my eyes: he was in bed…probably a hotel room and with a woman. A woman who was much younger. She was smiling and he had this look in his eyes filled with lust. My head throbbed with an acute sensation as two more visions glowed. One that showed his marriage ring, which meant he was cheating on his wife. Another vision of him in a parking lot with smokes around…

“…Miss, are you okay?”

My eyes flew open like a deer in headlights and I realised that once again, I made an ass out of myself. Quickly recovering, I handed him the box I clutched tightly in my clammy hands. “Sorry, it’s just…umm…migraine. Here’s your order. That would be forty-two bucks.”

I tried my best to smile but the way he was looking at me, I could clearly see that he had already tagged me as the crazy woman.

Maybe, that’s what I was.

Crazy Maeve and her nutty episodes.

“Here’s fifty,” he handed the bills. “Please keep the change.”

“Thank you.”

This time he didn’t smile back but only paced away because he thought I would zone out again.

The first episode happened when I was ten. My teacher was helping me with weekly assignments and a vision popped. A man was beating her while she was crying and trying hard to escape the blows. It was only for a few seconds but long enough for my brain to register the faces. And as careless as I was, I actually spilled the beans.

Whatever happened next was even more disastrous. How do you explain that a ten year old has perfect visions of another person’s life? That was just the tip of the iceberg.

Sometimes it happened at monthly intervals, sometimes weekly and then the whole thing got out of my hands. Not to mention, the raging headaches I got.

None of my foster parents were equipped enough to deal with my complicated incidents, and some of them didn’t care either. Once or twice, I did manage to find a couple of friends—people who understood that being different doesn’t mean you are a psycho—but eventually we had to part ways because the Child Services had to shift me to another place.

By the time I grew up, finished college and decided to be a nurse practitioner, I studied nights after nights for every possible reason of migraine and their connection with hallucination. Some people documented that they did get visions, but it was only related to them or their worst fears. Nothing like mine. So, after years of research, medical checkups and couch talks with shrinks, I finally came to the conclusion that I could not be helped. At least not by other people.

It became a part of me and the only way I could avoid it altogether was by being alone.

“What did I miss?” Mrs. McNeill sauntered into the stall and dropped her handbag on an empty chair to reach for the themed apron. She was in her fifties, a regular at the church who was kind enough to help me out for the stall.

“Well, we made around one hundred and fifty bucks till now,” I replied, taking a seat while she joined beside mine.

“Oh, perfect. Of course, they can’t resist your delicious cupcakes, dear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McNeill,” I returned a polite smile before a bunch of kids started bombarding us with the orders.

All in all, it was good. We made quite an amount for the charity and watching the kids smile and laugh around was worth all the crazy visions and migraine. Since I have been labouring away from last night, baking and icing the cakes and then having them delivered to the venue, my body began to worn out. McNeill insisted that I get back home while she delegated the wrap up to someone else, I grabbed my purse and started to walk home.

My place was only a few blocks away, and even though I too jaded to walk back home, I didn’t haul a cab. Apparently, the right dose for my crazy migraines were good music, long walks and isolation. And tonight seemed just right.

In all my years, never did I get a vision when I was alone.

So I put on my earphones, turned up the volume and walked towards my apartment with Rihanna blasting in my ears.

It was supposed to be relaxing, this whole walk in the night with raging music until my eyes suddenly burned and a violent headache hit me. For a second, I thought that my brain would split into half.

I almost fell down to my knees, clutching my head and panting when a vision flashed. It was smokey and unclear, and all I saw was a glimpse of a masculine figure. He was huge and his tanned skin and tattooed back made him look like a rugged figure overall.

Another blast of pain shot through my nerves and it felt like I was getting aneurysm. And with the pain came another flash. It wasn’t smoky or a figure of a human anymore, but that of an animal. A huge, furry beast running in the wilderness.

Great. Now I started having visions of animals, too? Give it a few more years, and I would officially check myself in a mental asylum.

This vision was nothing like anything I have ever had, and the fact that I could literally feel myself, standing in the wilderness and the soft fur ruffling against my skin, a host of goosebumps raised along my skin. The chilliness of the night deepened, the howls and cries felt like they surrounded me.

Please, help. Please…anyone.

I begged, cried and yelled in my mind, unable to voice out until the darkness finally enveloped me and pulled me into a blessed numbness.

The next time I woke up, it wasn’t my bedroom or my apartment but a hospital. Machines beeped around me and a nurse rushed in when she found me trying to get up.

“Just lie down, please.” She checked over the IV tube briefly before coming over with my chart. “How are you feeling now?”

“I am…good,” I croaked, my mouth as dry as desert. “How did I…”

“You fainted on the roadside when someone saw and called 911. The paramedics said they had a hard time reviewing the situation because your heart stopped beating for a long second. Has it ever happened before?”

No, I just…it was a bad migraine and a little bit of stress,” I lied.

“Oh, right.” She noted down a few things on my chart and then looked up. “Do you have any other medical history, condition or allergy that we should know of?”

Only visions. Humans and now furry beasts. “Err…no. It’s just stress, I think.”

“Hmm.” She frowned at the charts and bit her lips. “That’s weird. You were bleeding from your nose when they brought you in.”

“What?”

“Yeah. But so far we got nothing on the reports that came in, but we will still wait for the rest of the results. Till then, rest up, sweetie.”

Once the nurse left, I stared blankly at the white ceiling above and let the warm tears sting my eyes.

Why can’t I be normal for one day?