Voice of the Mind Ch. 11

She rang the bell shortly and she could hear the chime inside the house alerting the residents that there was a visitor. No buzzer, no harsh ringing, just a mellow chime, as if to indicate that the family inside could come to the door when they wanted – rather than the wish of the visitor to be shown inside.

Footsteps sounded, soft, unhurried, with a bit of hesitation. She couldn't blame her; her brother had been hospitalized and she had found out only an hour ago that it was a deliberate attack on him.Anyone would be hesitant to open the door.

Before the door opened though, she felt that it wasn't Nicole opening the door, but rather her friend Jenny. And the blonde indeed appeared when the door swung open. She didn't look startled though, as if she had expected Talitha to ring the bell, and she moved aside so that the visitor could come in.

The hallway was short – only a few steps before the door to the living room – and she stepped through it to enter the living room. In one of the seats she saw Nicole, feet pulled up under her, watching her come in. Her appearance startled Talitha. Not because of the red eyes from crying – or the lack thereof, but because of her attire; dressed in sweatpants and a jersey she was the complete opposite of the image she had seen at the college they both attended. Where she was a cool, fashionable beauty in public, here she was dressed like she had never even bothered to look into a mirror.

"Somewhat unexpected, isn't it?" Nicole smiled, with a tad of cynism in her voice. "The beauty queen dressed up in this garb. If anyone knew, they'd throw a fit."

Talitha wanted to refute it, but for some reason she didn't manage to get even a single word out. In the end she merely nodded and sighed – too tired to let this sort of secret leave an impression on her. Nicole waved her towards the couch, where she settled down, but didn't show any intention to offer anything to drink. She merely stayed seated, eyes on her visitor, measuring what this visit would bring.

Talitha, experienced as she was in penetrating other people's minds, found once again that she couldn't get even a glimpse from the darkhaired girl in the seat. She did feel likeshe herself was being measured, being prodded to see what she could have to offer. A feeling she did not relish.

She guarded herself tighter, but despite her experience in keeping others out, she felt like everything she did was futile. If Nicole wanted to, she would be able to crush her defenses, crumble her walls and gain access to whatever she wanted to know. And right now, she wasn't eventrying to, which scared Talitha shitless. She didn't have the experience to read minds, she merely seized her up, trying to judge her whether she was trustworthy enough and Talitha already felt her barriers on the verge of breaking.

How can she give me that feeling when she doesn't have these powers herself? She has had no training to penetrate my mind. She can't read my thoughts. So why do I feel like I'm a little sheep sitting across a wolf trying to gain her trust?

"You're here to explain what you have done to save my brother."

It wasn't a question. It was a conclusion she had come to after weighing and watching her visitor. She might not have any experience with mindreading, but that didn't mean she couldn't read the air, guess the reasoning for Talitha to visit. And Talitha nodded, once again startled that Nicole had correctly guessed the reason behind her visit.

"Well, after our meeting in the hospital you know about our abilities. You've seen how Vincent got creamed as well. For him, it was the first time fighting with another telepath. I have a bit more experience. I ran away from that, hoping to start a new life without being hassled by them. I should've known better.

Whereas my experiences were merely bullying, this fight was to the death – death or enslavement. Some people want us to use our abilities for their gain. I prefer being my own person and I didn't want Vincent to be recruited for that either. So we ended up in a fight with the person who tracked me here.

Vincent didn't fare too well in his first fight. With his lack of experience he was being pummeled with stuff he never even thought possible. He got hurt so much that his mind actually shut down. He was pretty much forced into a coma, with brain damage all over the place. With his last efforts and my help, we managed to repel the other, resulting in his death – we didn't plan to, but it happened. And truth be said, it was also the only way we could've come out of that fight with our lives and our own will.

But that fight left Vincent crippled, after which I've brought him to the hospital and you've seen the rest."

She paused, to let it sink in. Then she resumed. She was staring at her feet by now, not able to look at the two women in the room. Not after what she had to say.

"The doctor said that Vincent was in a coma and that it looked like he wouldn't be coming out of it. They didn't know what to do and told me that it might be permanent. I have asked them to omit that from you guys, because ... well, because I didn't believe it fully.

So in the past few days before he woke up, I have been constantly peering in his mind to track the places where he was hurt. I've been trying torepair his brain to restore it to its original state. I had never done this before, so I didn't have any idea what I was doing – nobody could guide me to tell me what to do and nobody could do it for me. I had to do everything on trial and error, by merely following my gut. So until he woke up, I didn't know if I was actually helping him or killing him.

It's a terrible thing, a mind. You have to figure out what belongs where, what provides which function, does this connection belong there or not. It's like a puzzle where you have no clue what the end picture is and you aren't allowed to make any mistakes. It was torture. You're playing with someone'smind; you can make him or break him. You can fix him up or you can shut down his entire life. Playing with fire is child's play in comparison. I felt like a first year student, alone in the ER and not educated enough to know how to open him up, let alone do the surgery itself but being the only hope for that person.

Right now, the only thing I have managed is waking him up. Ithink I have repaired any damage done, but I don't know for sure, or whether I have damaged something else in the process. I was desperate. And there was nobody else to do it for me. I didn't know whether he could survive until someone else would take up the task – if there are any people who know how to do this.

I hope I have helped him, but I might also have doomed him by doing whatever I have done to wake him up."

She tried – but found that she couldn't look up. Her shoes were the single thing in the world in her vision. She couldn't look up even if her life depended on it. She felt crushed, trampled by guilt. And she was sitting here, hoping that they would forgive her, while the bigger chance was that she would probably not even leave the house alive. She would even understand that, if they would kill her. She didn't even notice the tears which had swelled and were starting to run down her face – until they hit her shoes. Then she broke. And the tears were becoming a waterfall pouring down on her shoes.

At first she hadn't even noticed the arm around her, hugging her tight. She didn't hear the voice either, because she was bawling with enough volume to overpower the other's. Then the other voice said one word, one phrase, a powerful phrase and she heard it.

"Stop."

The voice boomed. Not because of the volume, although it was said loud enough to overcome her bawling. But because of the authority in the voice. The conviction, the power, it was all she needed to stop crying – at once. She looked up as well, her anxiety gone and replaced with submission to the voice. And there she was. Sitting in the chair, her feet up, dressed in sweat pants and a jersey and her eyes locked on Talitha. Talitha cowered.

"Without you, he wouldn't have survived that battle. Either he would be dead, or he would be a slave for someone else," she spoke. "For that, I am grateful. So keep your head up. You did well."

Talitha blinked. She heard the words clearly, but she had trouble accepting them. She was still expecting a condemnation, but she couldn't make that out of the words spoken.

"After that, you have revived him," Nicole continued. "And despite your inexperience, you managed to raise him from the dead. That's commendable. I don't know where we can find anyone who can do that, not sure if we will ever find someone with that skill, so once again I repeat: you did well."

"He's alive," Jenny added. "And the doctors said that they expect him to recover fully."

Talitha shuddered, but spoke: "I don't know if he's still the person you know. I have no idea how much damage I have done in the past few days before he woke up. For all I know he could be a serial killer by now."

Nicole smiled. "Than that merely means we love a serial killer now."