Her Mind's Eye Ch. 01

- Hello, everyone. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this story. However, if any of you happen to stumble upon little mistakes here and there, please advise me of them. I'd like to make this an enjoyable reading experience for all.

Thank you again and please enjoy. - Amela -

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"How? How could it be that at this time - at this place! - something this horrible could happen?"

"I don't know...but you better clean it up."

~~~~~

"I don't want you anymore, Michael." Aligail fidgeted on her bed, tangling the covers around her hips and legs.

Why's that, sweets? A male's voice resonated through her ears, sending a chaotic rush of shivers along her spine. She grabbed one of her pillows and groaned into the fabric. She was annoyed and confused.

"Please, just go away." Her voice croaked as she held back tears of frustration.

I won't. You know that. Cool air wisped around her body, making her muscles tighten despite the heated blankets.

"You make me seem like I'm some weirdo!" Aligail threw the pillow around, trying her hardest to push away his invisible grip. Her efforts proved fruitless as the cold only increased. Aligail's teeth clenched and she hissed angrily, curling into her useless heat blankets.

I'll never leave you, sweets. It'd hurt us too much... Michael's breath swept along the side of her neck. Aligail is a receptive girl of both the 'natural' and 'supernatural'. She's his special vessel and the one he cherishes.

Michael inhabited her thoughts. The phenomenon can't be explained. Not yet, at least.

Two years ago, when sweet Aligail was sixteen, he had come upon her uniquely susceptible mind. Her brainwaves were perfect for his own and he was sure not to let the opportunity pass by. Unfortunately for Michael, he does not possess a body in Aligail's realm. He lives elsewhere but, for now, he only lets Aligail believe that he was created in her mind. No need for troublesome thoughts.

Michael mused as he admired his squirming love. She was the ideal mixture of innocence and maturity. Her face, which was normally framed by full, slightly curly dark brown hair, was composed of slightly plump cheeks, which gave her the essence of childishness and her big, blue eyes only added to the cuteness of it all. A very adorable button nose and luscious pink lips made her "innocent woman" appearance perfectly complete. Her figure, in contrast, was curvaceous and toned and seemed to beg for a man to embrace it.

Those legs would feel absolutely delicious around my waist. A groan emitted from deep in Michael's chest. He was sure she could hear it. Feel it, too. The fact only made him happier. And those breasts...Goodness! His arms folded in front of Aligail and he cupped her chest, his fingers lazily kneading into the clothed flesh. Aligail's breasts are just big enough to fill my palms...how scrumptious. His lips tickled the lobe of her ear while his need for Aligail filled his thoughts.

She whimpered, "Michael, please, at least allow me to sleep alone."

His eyes roamed over the outline of her body while she struggled with the covers. I am most lucky to have found myself such a prize... Michael released his cold embrace from Aligail and sat back to admire her for a little longer. Once she was peacefully sleeping, he would leave her alone. She should have freedom within her dreams, at least.

~~~~~

She didn't like it. Not one bit. Michael had invaded her thoughts without any sense of regret and, for the last two years, has refused to let her be. While Aligail would be having conversations with her friends, family or random strangers, Michael would shamelessly tell her his opinions. He'd often times order her to stop talking and move on, all because he was annoyed.

The morning alarm rang painfully through Aligail's room. She groaned and flipped off the covers, scuffing herself to the other side of room, only to pound a heavy fist onto the mute button. Who the hell would think of such annoying contraption? She moved to the closet, grabbing the handful of clothes she'd picked for the day.

"Damn him to hell. Who cares anyways?" Her dreams had been blank yet again. She liked having dreams. It didn't matter which kind. They could be nightmares, flying dreams or muddled memories mingling together, and Aligail would enjoy it all. However, since Michael had arrived, she hasn't had a truly fulfilling dream. It was truly aggravating.

"You better not be looking! I'll be sure to damn you even more!" Not that it would do any good anyways... Aligail swept the room even though she knew she wouldn't be able to see him. After a firm shake of her body to expel her nervousness, she grabbed her pajama pants by the waistband and pulled them down. Then, wasting little time, she slipped into her pair of jeans for the day.

These jeans were her favorite pair. A little washed out on the thighs but not too bad to look gaudy. They were slightly ripped along the bottom, where they would drag along the ground. Aligail went to full length mirror by the door, propping herself on the tips of her toes. She loved the way these jeans fit her shape, hugging to the appropriate muscles. Pivoting to the left, she peeked over her shoulder to admire the shape from behind, again pleased with the result.

Yes, today she was going to look good. Despite the stress of everything.

Aligail went to bed and pulled off the t-shirt she wore, replacing it with a form fitting white tank top. She retrieved a blue over-shirt from the closet and hooked her arms through the sleeves.

Unlike other 18-year-olds, Aligail didn't attend high school, or college, or work. She simply went out and roamed around the city. Breckenridge never failed to present her with interesting people to watch. The shops knew how to circulate their merchandise to accommodate tourists. Since it was the beginning of the Fall season, many people from across the country were gathering to witness the beauty of leaves changing color.

Aligail didn't blame them. The scenery was beautiful. Reds, yellows, oranges, browns, greens all painted the landscape, appealing to every eye. And then, as Winter would inevitably set in, the endless snow would pile onto the hillsides to create a wondrous image. The Spring is always beautiful, too. The animals and flowers pop out of their hiding places and greet the new season. The Summer temperatures don't get too harsh, staying within the mid 60's to low 70's. Overall, the city is quite comfortable and offers great mental stimulation.

"M.H.C. Café" is Aligail's ideal observation point. She'd been attending this local 'hot spot' since her family has brought her to Breckenridge. The owners were quite kind. When she first came in, they welcomed her with bright smiles and bombarded her with invading questions. Aligail figured she should've been a smidgen upset by their intrusion but thought of it as a nice, warm welcome instead.

The shop had a small section where bookshelves held new releases and famous novels. Each week, the female owner, Mrs. Viten, would hold a special copy of the newest book for Aligail. Aligail appreciated the gesture very much. She'd always liked to read and wouldn't waste any opportunity to add to her collection.

Mr. Viten was a specialist at making drinks. Whether it was coffee, soda, tea or smoothies, this man could make it all. He'd mentioned to Aligail before that, when he was younger, he went backpacking through Europe and accumulated great drink making experiences along the way.

Him and his wife were most definitely a great pair. They'd already been married thirty years. Quite a feat, for nowadays.

Aligail took her spot at the small table by the front window. There she could sip her drinks while observing the tourists.

Her mind began to wander. Marriage, eh? The concept had always been a strange topic for her. If two people really love each other, why can't they stay the way they are? Does a shiny little ring really have that much influence? Besides, being married means that you have to share everything. Money, objects, experiences, emotions...Everything!

No, thank you. Not interested.

"Aligail!" A sing-song voice filled the café and woke almost every patron from their blissful dazes, including Aligail. She sighed and kept her focus on the people scurrying outside. She hoped the voice would disappear.

"A. L. I. G. A. I. L." Damn... With a groan, she stiffly pivoted her head to the side, looking up at a hyperactive, widely grinning young man. "Hello, Alex." She tried to crook out a smile. She failed, miserably.

Alex had stumbled upon Aligail one day when she was gazing out the window. He had stopped on the sidewalk and looked right back at her distant expression. Then, without her consent, he would find and cling to her every day possible. Hmm...reminds me of another.

A loud screech filled the shop as Alex retrieved a chair from the other side of the room. Damn it! Was there no chair closer? He let the sound pierce the ears of everyone all the way to Aligail's table, before plopping himself right across from her, smiling ever so brightly. Idiot...

"What is up?" He dropped his elbows onto the table top and propped his face in his hands, waiting for her response. Aligail brought her mildly hot tea to her lips, took a light sip and glared at him over the top of the cup. Was he really so dense to not get the message?

"Alex, don't you have a few school buddies around? Somewhere?" The cup clinked against the ceramic table top. Aligail dully traced the tip of her index finger along the edge.

"Nope! Not one. My time is all for Aligail! Isn't that amazing?" He giggled and fidgeted. Aligail closed her eyes and scrunched her nose from the impending headache. She was going to need more than tea. And soon.

I can get rid of him for you, sweets. Michael's familiar voice rang through her ears. Just give the order and I'll make him leave you alone. Aligail could feel his wicked smile and all the scenarios that he was pushing into her mind. Yes, sure, it is very appealing to imagine this overly excited boy leaving her alone to scour the streets for another unsuspecting victim. But Aligail wasn't so harsh to make this poor fella feel too much like an outcast.

Leave me alone, Michael. You should know better than to distract me from a conversation. Aligail looked up at Alex. He was chattering away on some topic that Aligail had already forgotten. Now that Michael had decided to interfere, she was too distracted to focus on this chattering child.

"Hey, Alex." She whistled softly. He stopped talking. "Can we resume this conversation some other time? I'm not feeling too swell today." She clenched her eyes closed and rubbed her forehead for added effect. Not that it was hard to look stressed, anyways.

Yes, that's right. Get rid of him, sweets. Michael laughed, sufficiently adding to Aligail's headache. She'd ignore him for now. Or try to.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry for not noticing right away." Aligail took a peek at him from between her fingers. Alex was trying to smile but he looked sad, let down maybe. He may be chatty, hyper and pushy but he is also a kind and considerate boy. Aligail appreciated that, at least.

Aligail took a deep breath and very tenderly placed her hand on top of his. "I apologize. I'll probably feel better tomorrow. You can come and find me then, okay?" She presented him with a sweet smile. His complexion turned a light shade of red.

"Y-Yeah. Sure, I'll do that." Alex grabbed the back of his chair with the free hand, wanting to keep their skin in contact for as long as possible, and began to make his way to a stand. Aligail smiled at him until he was firm on his feet. "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

You're being too kind to him. He was the one to come and bug you in the first place.

Alex nodded down at her, his features looking slightly happier. Then, before Aligail could think of taking her hand back just yet, he turned his own and laced his fingers with hers. Aligail watched with surprise as he bent and placed a tender kiss to the back of her hand. "Your eyes look as stunning as usual, Aligail. Thank you for allowing me to look at them." Alex released her then and quietly left the café, leaving Aligail completely dumbfounded. Since when was he even slightly charming?

That boy certainly pulled a smooth one for you. Michael chuckled low. That sneaky little brat.