"Explain to me, Hales. What's it like?" It was a month after Blake had shot that man, who had been identified as Tony Rouger, which still haunted me. I'd been distant the past few weeks. Blake took the blame for that, and was all of a sudden interested in my gift - which was going to be used in the trial concerning the little girl. Her parents wanted justice, rightfully so. I was going to be stuck in a courthouse in a few days, just to testify what I saw, and of course, explain the dates. When Blake found out, he'd been jumping up and down with excitement. I'd never realized how interested he was with it.
"It's . . . I don't know. Just . . . there. I guess." I said as I looked out the window. Today we were stationed at a little family owned and operated cafe. My hands were folded on the cool, blue metallic table. Blake's black coffee sat just a few inches away from them, and I could feel the heat still radiating off of the cup. Blake looked at me, disappointed I wasn't explaining more. He turned out the window again to see if anything was suspicious. "Blake, I'm sorry. I'll tell you what it's like, if you still want to hear." He glanced up at me, before fully turning around in his seat, a half grin on his face making him look like a fourteen year old boy.
"It's just numbers. Like, yours for example. All of the dates are white. All of them. They just sit over your head, all the time, like you're wearing a hat. Underneath the date is the time it'll happen, and with a blue aura, it'll tell me how and where."
"So, when's mine? When am I going to die? How do you know if I am supposed to die, or if I'm going to be killed when I'm not supposed to? When did you realize what they were?"
I sighed, shaking my head. "No, Blake. I can't tell you that. I can't tell you when you're going to die. I did it once. To my best friend. I was 15, and I had just realized what they were. She was the first person to know. I didn't realize there were . . . rules, so to speak. Once I told her what day it would happen, it changed. Just like that. The numbers just switched up. Like one of those randomizers on the Internet. The new date was in two week's time, so I freaked out and told her again. It changed to one week. I didn't realize that the reason it was changing was because I was telling her those things. I kept saying the date over and over again, every time it changed. The fear in her eyes . . . it was horrible, Blake. It was just like my mother, when she realized what was going to happen to them. She was pale white and shaking, and kept repeating things like 'No' and 'I'm only 16'. She was too young. I couldn't figure out why they were changing so suddenly, why they weren't going back to being normal. She was supposed to die when she was 85. Eventually, I stopped. It was three days time. She stayed in the house for the rest of her life. She wouldn't go outside, and definitely wouldn't let me near her. A kitchen fire started while her parents were home, and she was asleep. She was burned alive. I can't give out dates to anyone unless they are a blue aura."
Blake was silent, staring at me intently. His eyes were so focused - I never thought he could be so interested in one topic. "You always say 'blue' and 'black' auras. What are those?" He questioned me, without replying to the horror story I'd just told him.
"Black auras are a set date. You are supposed to die then. Nothing can help you. No one will be able to save you. Blue auras mean that you're going to die at the hands of someone else - and that you don't have to. Those people can live a longer life, but unfortunately most don't."
"So, homicides are blue?" He asked me. I nodded, actually surprised he was following. Blake never had a conversation about one thing that lasted more than five minutes. He would just get bored and change the topic. "What about suicides?"
"Depends. With some, it is black. With others, it's blue. I realized what they were nearly eight years after my parents died. I was just accepting the fact that I'd witnessed it, and that the men were still free. I went to a lot of nursing homes, because for whatever reason, my child services worker wanted me to volunteer, to 'keep me off the streets' because I was a 'troubled case'. I noticed that a lot of dates were really close. Like, in a few days, or a year's time. Whenever I returned to the home, normally I'd find out that they had died on the day the numbers said they would. That's when I figured it out, and I had no idea what was going on. I asked my best friend, and that's how the conversation started."
Blake nodded, seemingly pleased with this explanation. "Do you want it?" He asked suddenly, quietly, looking down at his lap, as if he was shy. I looked up at him suddenly, and made a 'Hmm?' sound. "Do you want it to be there? Or do you want to be . . . normal?"
"I don't know. It drives me nuts when I see a young person perfectly happy with life walking down the street with a date saying three days. But I'm glad I have it too, because I love being able to save lives, like that little girl last month. I guess it is normal for me. Ever since I could remember, they've been there."
"Was he supposed to die? The guy I shot?" Blake looked up at me again, a sudden fear taking over his expression. He looked like he was about to be sick. Without hesitation, I nodded vigorously. He calmed down, but just a bit. "Hales, one more thing."
"What?"
"When are you going to die?"
"I can't see my own date. There's nothing there."
Meanwhile:
"Hey Boss, I got that picture of that girl who got Tony killed. Her name is Hayley Karr. She's going to testify against Tony and Joe."
"That's her? That's the girl who got both of my two best men killed?! She's pathetic looking! She's a girl! And you're going to sit there and tell me she's the reason I'm down two guys? I mean, sure, it's less pay. But Joe's a snitch. He'll do anything to keep himself out of trouble - he's gonna bring us all down! Jay, I want you to get out there and find that traitor and kill him!"
"What about the girl, Boss? She's the reason your empire is about to collapse."
"Wait. I have an idea. Let's let Joe rat us out. If she's the reason my sharp shooter is dead, then I want her to go down with us. We'll go to court, get the best attorney in the Manhattan area, and we'll send her straight to the mental institution! That crazy ol' bat. Thinks she can mess with me? Well she's sadly mistaken."
"Alrighty Boss. Joe texted before he was arrested that he's gonna call, I'll tell him the plan."
"You're a good man, Jay. You're a good man."
