Before DeathI don't see dead people. I see people dead before they die.
Sounds like a lark right, like I'm making some stupid joke. I wish I was.
Starting when I was a kid, after I drowned, I knew when people were going to die. Not like oooh, look into my crystal ball, you will die in 6 months. I mean right before someone died, I would see it, I would know, and I couldn't do anything about it. The next examples are the most dramatic.
When I was 16, I was driving home one day, and this mini-van passed me. I looked at the driver, but instead of a person's face, it was this skull, with odd bits of hair sticking up. I completely freaked out, and decided I was hallucinating. When I got home, I went in and got a snack and got my books out, and sat down to work. Mom came in and turned the TV on. I looked up when they said there was breaking news. A mini-van had been struck, rolled over, and burned. They tried to get jaws of life there, but couldn't get it in time. When I looked at the van, I knew who it was. Later they announced that the woman driving and her three year old son had died in the fire. It happened less than a mile from where I had originally seen her.
At the end of my junior year of high school I was sitting in class, and I looked up at this boy who was sitting near me, one of my brother's friends. Instead of his normal face, I saw it bloated, and kind of greenish blue, skin peeling off. I almost threw up. Life went on as normal, we were let out for summer. I was afraid to say anything to him, because I knew it would sound insane.
When we came back to school the next year I was intensely happy that I was wrong, that he was alive. Then I found out, I wasn't wrong. He did die over the summer, the same way I did, he drowned, was under the water for 12 minutes, they said, and then they did CPR and brought him back. A friend later conjectured that I knew so far ahead because it was so similar to how I died. Except no one held him under, his was an accident.
I would think it was all stupid an hallucinations too, if my mom didn't know the truth about the night my uncle died, when I was just 9.
I slept with my parents that night, for some reason, and so did my brother. I woke up screaming and crying, hysterical. Mom and dad tried to calm me down. Then the phone rang. Mom had me on the side of the bed, trying to get me to calm down enough to talk, I kept babbling over and over that he was gone. Dad answered the phone, and then took it in the hall. While he was gone mom kept asking me what was wrong. I kept telling her that Uncle A____ was dead, he was dead, he got hit by a train. She kept trying to tell me he was fine, that nothing had happened, that it was a nightmare.
Dad called Mom out into the hall, to tell her. He had to go identify what was left of the body, of the truck. A_____ was dead, he had gotten hit by a train. My mom sat down next to me, and asked me how I knew. She was so confused, and upset, and she didn't want to touch me, to hold me like she had been before she found out, before she knew that I was not just having another nightmare.
I hate dreaming that people are going to die, I hate looking right at people now, if I don't have to. I have a friend who tells me to embrace the gift, that it makes me special. I want to believe that its not true, that I don't have a "gift". A long time ago I got someone to teach me some tricks, how to control supposed "gifts" because I was tired of it. I refuse to acknowledge it.
I haven't seen it in a long time, and I hope I never do again.