With the text printing out, she went through the drawings to match them. Just have to get these finished up and get them shipped. Yawning, she glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realized how late she had worked. Debating for a minute on whether she would make a late dinner or just go to bed, she rolled her eyes and headed back into the tiny kitchen. You know you have to eat regularly Miss Dante, or the visions leave you weak as a mouse.
As she made a small solitary meal, again, she couldn’t fight the feelings of being alone. She was always alone, but from time to time it bothered her. For years she had hoped to find someone— just one person that would understand and believe her, fill the empty places in her life. Getting a glass of milk from the fridge, she set it beside the single plate on the small table. She’d given up that dream a long time ago. She’d moved past the age of twenty alone – so when thirty had followed the same way, she hadn’t felt the melancholy of the isolation. Frowning, she refused to think of any number near forty. Thirty-five was as old as she was getting.
She didn’t really taste a single bite of the food she chewed while thinking. A lot of her world was like that though—do what you need to get through it. Glancing over, she picked up the forms the judge had given her. Her own fault really, when the police had completely doubted her -- and looked at her like she’d just escaped the nearest mental facility. Instead of walking out without argument, she’d demanded to talk to someone higher up. How was she supposed to know a judge just happened to be there at the time? Since when did judges hang around at police stations?
They hadn’t listened or given up any time to try to help the little girl and in turn for her trouble, she got to go see a professional to help her through her episodes. Anonymous – she knew she had to report things in an anonymous fashion – hadn’t she learned that the hard way repeatedly? But the little girl in her vision had been so frightened, it had broken Felicity’s heart and she couldn’t stand it a moment longer.
Tossing the paperwork back onto the table, she got up to rinse her dishes. She’d go to the therapist– mostly to buy herself time so she wasn’t arrested on some insubordinate charge. As soon as she had everything organized and packed, she’d move on.
Standing at the counter, she closed her eyes and prayed silently for a moment—that she wouldn’t see the little girl or the little boy on the news anytime soon in some heart-wrenching morbid discovery. She couldn’t deal with another one of those. Couldn’t face sitting all alone crying, hearing how someone she had tried to help hadn’t gotten it and she’d been left alone to regret once more that society didn’t accept anything out of the ordinary.