Leah texted me. Hey Mila found something you might like!!!! I wipe my tears, peering into my phone. A fortune tellers number. I scoff. Everyone thought that me and Austin were soulmates. To be honest, I thought that too. The way he would stare into my eyes. I would feel so lost I couldn’t even bring myself to call for help.

If we are actually meant to be together maybe this fortune teller will have the power to tell me that. I dial the number, keeping my head on my pillow as the line rings. “Hello, this is Maggie.” I clutch the phone in my hand, “Uh, hey this is—“ “Mila,” Maggie cuts me off. My heart skips a beat. Is this real? “You’re here about your break up with Austin. Am I correct?” This must be a joke maybe something that Leah set up to give me hope that me and Austin are meant for each other. I sigh might as well just talk, even if it’s a prank.

“Yeah, I just wanted to know.” Again Maggie cuts me off, “If you’re heart and his will one day intertwine. I know dear, and I think you’ll be surprised with my answer.” A no, me and Austin aren’t going to make it. Tears prick at my eyes as I sit up leaning my head against my bed frame. “Hello?” I say after a minute of Maggie’s voice not booming in my ear. “Listen,” Maggie replies, “Answer your future for yourself.”

I’m about to protest when my breath is taken away. “Mila,” it’s Austin I’d recognize his voice anywhere. The comforting tone, the way it brings me back from the dead. “Mila I love you,” Austin mumbles, “The last two years of my life have been so amazing. I’ve been trying to figure out why, and I know now. It’s because for those two years I had you.” I part my lips as tears slide down my cheeks, “Austin,” I choke out. “I’m saying I love you,” Austin says, “You make me feel sick and it’s the first time I love being sick . . . Marry me. One word, three letters. Say it and I’m yours.” My hand raises to my mouth covering my smile.
“Austin,” I say tears streaming down my faces, “Yes.”

A movement caught my eye. I turned down to see a small piece of paper blowing down the street. I always used to pick up garbage on the street, I care about the environment. I decided not to this time. After my break up with Anna, I felt like I was losing myself. Then I turned around again, deciding to pick up the paper after all. I couldn’t let my heartbreak change every standard I held myself to.

After picking up the piece of paper, I realized it was a phone number. “What is this?” I whispered to myself. It read ‘Call for a fortune and turn your luck.’ This could be it, I thought to myself. I could win back Anna.

“Hello? This is Madam Kamala the fortune teller. How can I help you?” “Uh..hi. This is Owen. I found your paper that said to call if I was having bad luck,” I said reluctantly. “Hello, Owen. Of course I can help you. I’m glad you called, because I have some great ideas for you. Meet me at my office tomorrow afternoon and we’ll get started. I’ll see you there to tell your fortune,” She told me. “Kamala?” I asked. “Yes?” “I don’t exactly believe in all of this stuff…” “You will after tomorrow, just try to keep an open mind,” She said.

The next day, I went to the fortune teller’s office. In front was a big sign that read ‘enter if you dare’. Considering almost everyone thought this place was a joke, I doubt anybody would enter anyways. Before opening the door, I paused to think. Did I really think this was a good idea? Would some quack psychic really make me feel better about losing Anna? Regardless, it was worth a try. I opened the door, the room in front of me was dark. There were a few sparkly lights here and there, but the whole place felt creepy. “Hello there,” A voice said loudly. I jumped in place. “Whoa, you startled me,” I shouted. “Shhh,” The voice said. “This is a peaceful place…” “What does that even mean? I don’t even know why I’m here,” I sighed. “I remember your voice. You’re Owen. You need to turn your luck,” The voice said. “Uh, yes. This is Owen. Who are you?” “I’m Kamala, your fortune teller.”

That was the moment my life changed. My luck was turned, and my love was found. That day in the darkness of her office, Kamala showed me the powers of the spirits. She also showed me how new found love can outshine all past love. The fortune she gave me, of a future with her, was the one thing I needed.

A synthetic voice announced “distance 6 kilometres, pace 5minutes and 46 seconds, time 36 minutes and 32 seconds”. He craned his upper body over his knees, catching his breath. The moment of exhausting relief halted when he remembered her soccer practice was tonight.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he considered releasing a terrifying cry, or throwing his iPhone down the middle of the cement road, maybe even slapping his own face. But before he can act stupid, he glances up and makes eye contact.

“Hey Frank”, they both nod at each other and as soon as his neighbour passes by he sinks back into reality. His eyes swell, his lips start fluttering - fphfphpfphpfphpfpthhhh

Tom first highschool didn’t workout because he thought everyone was an asshole, and at his second highschool he thought everyone was an asshole to. Now that she was gone he started to realize maybe the issue wasn’t the assholes or a goddess he had placed on to of a pedestal, but maybe it was him. He looked down at his feet, new balance 308’s - costco dad shoes.

Tom burst out into tears, pleading for higher powers to solve everything. Minutes behind, Franks wife was struggling to keep up. Tom could feel eyes on him activating spidey senses in his back but it was too late, he started uncontrollably gagging tears up and down the back of his nasal passage just moments before she shouted “hey make a wish boy”

Max awkwardness ensued as she caught a glimpse of the tears being swept away and Tom tried to hide the tear ducks behind a raised shoulder. Tom humoured her with a soft wave - and he started walking back.

He took all his athletic wear off and fell backwards into the comforter. Tom starred at the ceiling rehearsing the rollercoasters of emotions. The run had been so relieving, the weather was nice, his heart felt like an whimpering herbivore suckling leaves while living in complete fear of literally of everything. embarrassment from Cougar of a wife started to settle in. Not only did she make a pale skin joke but seeing him in that condition. Ffs.

Tom rolled over on to his side an heard a crunch. Was that a cracking cookie? He reached his lanky arm around to feel what was under him. Left overs, he remembered now, left over Chinese fortune cookie has crackle. Tom and no other sane human would let the fortune go unread. He opened the fortune and to his surprise there was only a phone number.

Don’t all fortune cookies have little quotes or some shite. Tom, decided to give the number a call, pretty much because he was brain numb from crying so hard and not really in a mental state to make good judgement. His only priority was distracting his current thoughts.

“Herro, you call for fortune? Yes. Let me tell you. All you problems soon be solved” she said.

Tom raised an eyebrow, he managed to mutter a soft ok.

She continued…

A phone number in a fortune cookie? I might be too drunk. Are these even numbers? I take a deep breath, raise my head level with my shoulders, and try that stupid fucking breathing technique for about nine seconds before deciding again that it’s useless.

But my vision does clear enough for me to read the fortune from the cookie, and it is definitely a phone number. What is this? Do I have to call the number for my fortune? What happened to six words that barely made sense in the broadest of situations?

You know what I’ve always wanted. Specificity from the fortune cookies. “You will get hit by a bike messenger on the second crosswalk as you walk back home. Your pants leg gets caught in his gears and he’s so goddamn jacked that he doesn’t even notice he’s got extra baggage to deliver.”

Alright, that’s obviously too long, but you get what I’m saying. But when had a fortune ever been anything but numbers? Much less a phone number. A local one, too.

In a panic that must have looked hilarious to the other diners, I whipped entire body around in my chair, for some reason coming to the conclusion that I had wandered into one of those “special” massage parlors.

And with that panic, those motions, and that thought, I had made three demonstrably racist assumptions because of a fucking fortune cookie. The wrapper on the table had an unmistakable declaration on it: “MADE IN THE USA” as a little extra dollop of “you’re an asshole.”

That’s why she left. Almost those words exactly.

“You’ve turned into an asshole.”

Turned into. Meaning assholelessness had once been a quality one could ascribe to me. Then I got a promotion at work — alright, since we’re just getting it all out there, it was more of a lateral repositioning than anything else — an suddenly I was the center of attention whether that center had to be manually redirected immediately and with great fanfare.

So she was absolutely right. But I told her that she could not be more wrong if she tried, which only reinforced the point she was going to make, but I beat her to the punch. The punch to my face. Whatever. That’s the jist. She deserves better and there’s no doubt she’ll find better.

Still fiddling with the fortune, rolling it around in my fingers, my curiosity finally gets the better of me. My vision is still a little swimmy so the last “868” part takes me more brain power than I’d really like to admit.

I hesitate for maybe half a second and start the call. It rings maybe ten times, and someone finally picks up.

“Took you long enough, Twerp,” says the voice I know on the other end.

I feel all the blood rush out of whatever body part it’s in and into someplace it shouldn’t be because whatever this feeling is cannot be good.

“Br—Bryce?” I ask.

“Who else calls you ‘twerp’, Twerp?”

No one else calls me Twerp. Not anymore.

Not since Bryce died eight years ago.

It had been days, weeks even since we had last talked but it seemed as if James would never want to talk again. I loved him, he didn't love me. He'd rather go out with a cheerleader. A dirty, snobby, backstabbing, popular cheerleader. What did he not like about me? I wasn't snobby and respected him. I'm smart but not a nerd, well known but not popular, and I wasn't controlling, I let him hang out with his friends not always with me.

How was I not good enough? We promised we were going to prom together and it's only 2 weeks out. I would have no date.

I slumped back in my chair and took another sip of my iced caramel macchiato when I spotted a newspaper on my table and, well of course, picked it up. I flipped through stories: girl gone missing, major car accident, ongoing tension with countries. The usual stuff. I flipped the paper back over and set it down when a number on the bottom of the newspaper caught my eye - free fortune telling. Well, it's not that shady if it's free. Normally it's a 15 dollar rip off. What's the harm in calling?

I dialed in the number, 1-800-234-2765, and waited for someone to pick up. I waited about a minute and was about to hang up when a sweet voice pick up.

"Hi this is Fantastic Future would you like to plan and pay for an appointment?" The voice sounded like a younger man. I recognized it vaguely... it was James's brother?! I had been to over for dinner at his house and we had all played deck hockey together. Why did he work at a fortune telling place?

"Uhm, the newspaper said that it was free..." I hesitated. This was a scam.

An older woman's voice appeared, "Ah, yes, yes! You got lucky dear, bring the newspaper today and we'll take a look. What time are you free?"

"Uhm- uh. All day." I responded still thinking of James and his brother, AJ.

"Then come whenever you'd like dear!" The woman squealed happily.

An entry bell rang above me. I looked around, the store was empty. Then a small woman came waddling out from behind tall bookshelves. She smiled so brightly it was hard to look. This old grandma quite had a smile of the sun.

"Are you the girl who-" I nodded and held the newspaper up "Ah, come, come!" She hobbled away with me trailing behind. "Name?" She asked, climbing up onto a tall stool infront of a crystal ball. I sat down a cross from her and set my phone on the table.

"Indigo."

"Pretty name my dear...." she mumbled, preoccupied. She waved her hands around the ball mystically. "You had a boyfriend I see... a break up..." She stared at the ball longer with her eyes wide. "You want to be happy? Have a happy future?" I nodded. She stopped the magic ball hand waving stuff and set her hands in her lap.

"Indigo," the lady reached for my phone, pushing it infront of me. She patted the phone "You'd better call James my dear girl..." and with that she left the room.

(I will make a part 2 because I had alot of fun with this! I hope you enjoyed this and keep a look out for part 2!!! Please follow me and check out JaycieGracie's page!)

⚠️T/W⚠️: mention or murder and S/A

Numb is all I’ve felt for months. Cold plain numb. I’ve been through many break ups in my lifetime but one like this one, this one one very messy and I haven’t been able to leave my house for weeks at a time sense. But today I finally decided to go out. I threw on a comfy sweatshirt with my favorite shorts that curve around my body nicely. I locked up my hose then set off to find something to do.

Shopping always fixes my problems so why not shop until I drop right? As I walked through the Isles I admired and grabbed everything that caught my eye and ended up with a full cart of things. As I made my way I stopped to look at a bulletin board that was hanging on a wall. “Find your fortune” a flyer said on the a paper in big bold letters with a number just below a picture of a woman with a crystal ball. “Here we go again” I sighed knowing damn well I’m about to take one and call the number.

After checking out and loading my car I decided to call the number (told ya). I dialed the number and put the phone up to my ear and waited for this so called fortuneteller to answer. “Hello this is Mrs.Dorothea how may I help you” an old sounding voice said Into the phone. “I saw your add for your fortunetelling Business and was wondering if I could make an appointment” I said slowly into the phone. “Of course! Are you free at 2:00?” She asked. “Sounds great” I smiled. “Ok I’ll text the address to the number your calling from”. “Ok I’ll see you at two” I said hanging up. *incoming text from: Dorothea?

Dorothea- 785 east Blackwood rd room 11 Dorothea- I look forward to seeing you. Me- see you at 2!

As two comes I make my way to the address that was sent to me. I’m starting to regret calling. What if she kidnappes me.

As I get there and walk into the large apartment building and find the room I start getting nervous. I knocked on the door and waited patiently. “Ahh hello Clary Frey”. “You know my name?” I asked completely surprised. “I know many things about you” she said walking into her small, dark apartment. There were astrology posters plastering every wall and ceiling. “So umm what exactly do you know about me” I said slowly. Surly she doesn’t know what I did. Just as I sat down the door flew open and cops with shields run into the room “Clary fray your under arrest for the murder of Jace Wayland” one of the cops said pulling me up and cuffing me. How did they find me? I was so careful. I thought I hid the body in the perfect place.

They took my to the police station and sat me down in a room with only a table and a mirror which I know is two sided. A few minutes after they put me in the room some man came in. “Hello Mrs.Frey my names agent stone”he said sitting across from me. “Let’s make this short because I honestly don’t care anymore, that’s on right” I said motioning towards the recorder sitting on the table. He nodded. “Yes I killed Jace, I stabbed him 5 times in the back and watched him bleed out, no I don’t regret it” I said ready to get sent to jail for the rest of my miserable life. “Why did you do it” he asked looking completely unfazed “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you” I said looking down at the table. “Try me” he said. “He raped me, it was the only way to get him off me” I said tearing up. I don’t regret what I did. Because I can’t regret it when I can’t feel anything. “You were defending yourself?” He asked slowly. “Yes” I nodded “I can’t feel anything” I sobbed “I need to feel” I shook my head.

In the end I only got 2 years in prison and a few other things I have to do after i get out. I finally lost it and completely felt everything at once in court. Jaces mom isn’t mad, mourning yes but not mad. She knows I didn’t want to hurt him. But in the end I just hurt myself.

Sophia knew that Joel needed time, maybe so did she. That was not comfort at this point in the breakup, it was too soon to feel comfort. Different…that’s what she needs. “Calgon take me away!” On the advice of her happily married, white picket fence, mother of 2 friend Melanie, Sophia decided to seek out a local fortune teller after finding the number mysteriously tucked away in what once was Joel’s bedside table. After the reading, Sophia was terrified! She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep. But she would not tell anyone what was read to her. Sophia became a recluse. She died alone, scared, broken. To this day, no one knows what that free reading was about. The only thing that resembled a clue was the ominous note that Sophia had left scribbled on her arm with a filet knife that read “Next.”

"Does it get better?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. I thought I heard someone breathing. Maybe it was my own breath, heavy with tears and snot.

"I just want to know if it gets better," I say again. "Not if they come back, not if... I'm alone forever, just... does it get better?"

Silence again. And then the faint clatter of dice.

"Yes," said a low voice through the phone. "It does."

And then they hung up.

When I broke up with my girlfriend, it didn’t go as expected. She said something I wished she hadn’t. I did something she thought I wouldn’t. Next thing you know, I was digging a hole in a remote location and dumping her body in. As breakups go, I’ve had better, as had she.

While removing all traces of her existence from my house, I came across a business card for a psychic who offered a free reading to those down on their luck. Though tempted, for a laugh, to schedule an appointment for my latest ex-girlfriend, I signed myself up for the reading instead. Although my expectations were low, I hoped the session provided insight into whether or not my ex planned to haunt me.

“I see darkness,” the psychic advised with eyes closed tight. When I replied with a sigh of impatience, she added, “I also see silence.”

I took that as a cue to refrain from offering any more editorial exhales, even though it was unclear how anyone could hear a noise or the absence of one. I tapped my fingertips on the table and waited. She opened her eyes but lowered her gaze towards my fingers, a dissatisfied grimace on her face.

“I see dirt. And cries for help,” she continued.

“This is nonsense.” I waved a dismissive hand through the air. “You saw the dirt under my fingernails, didn’t you?”

“I don’t explain my visions. They just come to me.”

I shook my head in disbelief and walked out, even though a chill ran down my spine while I did so. It wasn’t that I was unnerved by the suggestions that were made. It seemed curious how accurate her description had been about what was planned for the next time she and I crossed paths.

Wow, laying in the middle of a street, crying, waiting for something to end me. Why? Just because of a boy? As I laid there waiting, all my thoughts of him came to my brain. The good, the bad, the up’s, the down’s. All of it. I just want it to end. “Well nothings happening… so I might as well look at the place where my final breaths will be.” A sigh escaped me, and I looked around a little bit. When something catches my eye, a utility pole with a… flyer on it. I stand up and walk over to the flyer, almost as if I was spellbound by it. “Down on your luck? Call us for a free fortune!” The flyer read. “A free fortune?” I muttered, “I might as well as I wait..” I looked back, still no cars… sighing I typed the number into my phone and waiting while it rang, and rang, and rang. “Welcome, darling, something tells me your calling for the free fortune, no?” Well anyone could’ve guessed that, I thought. “Yes,” The woman on the phone went silent for a moment, “What is your name son?” A shiver went down my spine, “Alex Thorn.” “Alex…” She said ominously, “Do you like sweet or spicy?” “Um. Sweet, I guess… What does that have to do with this?” “Just making small talk.” She said gleefully. She went silent for a minute and something told me I should be silent too. Nearing the end of the minute my ears began to ring and my head began to throb. But that’s normal. “Alex. Listen to me closely. You are in a lot of danger. You should be safe as long as your never on Maple Street at night alone.” She said, I looked up at to where the street sign is, “Maple Street…” I muttered, all I could hear was heavy breathing. From me? From the woman? No…… Slowly I turned my head, not knowing what would be behind me… “Aahhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed, “Oh, just a chipmunk…” I muttered, “Alex are you alright, dear?” Suddenly, something from the darkness covered my mouth. My eyes widened from fear and shock, clearly this couldn’t be the chipmunk again… The throbbing came back and so did the ringing too, then all went black. All I could hear was the woman on the phone, laughing.