Jennifer Griffin

I read the name of the church: St John, Catholic Church. I hadn't seen its name in my vision, but it sure was the one. I could sense it, still recognize it, the brown color of the exterior wall, and the rainbow design on the window.

The church was quiet when I got inside. The only sound emanating was from my shoes hitting the floor as I moved forward. The silence was heavy, and I broke it with every step I took.

This couldn't be all I was meant to see --- empty chairs, a pulpit, an altar, murals, sculptors, and paintings of the apostles. I was ready to find the clues, wherever it was hidden in the building. So stealthily, I walked toward the altar and scanned the interior.

When I was young, I would attend church with my grandmother. She was the most active member, the one who would wait out to help others, stay back, and arrange the chair or distribute the flyers before an event. But when she was angry, she could burn things down. She never showed that side of her in the church or anywhere near it. My mother said grandmother became soft as she aged. I wished she was here. I wouldn’t have spent weeks trying to figure out what was going on with me. I could call her too, but she usually wouldn’t answer as much as she used to do when she was alive. She came around when she wanted to show me something important, which could be once a month.

I sat on one of the long chairs, crossed my legs, and stared at the paintings of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Beside it was another drawing of Jesus on the cross. I stared at each of them as if they were the answers I was looking for -- as if I would see something that would give a clue to what to do if I stared long enough. So I shut my eyes and opened them again. Yet, I saw the same pair of eyes; a man nailed to the cross and a woman looking up to something like she was praying.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time sitting there, looking at nothing new, because I needed answers. I knew I would spend another week trying to solve the same puzzles if I left: Who was the girl in my vision?

So I waited a little more, and a little more, until I got tired and got up.

I walked out of the church. When I opened the door, I came up the stairs and noticed some stains on the floor. Then I knelt and touched them. It was like milk, probably some ice cream. It wasn’t there when I went inside the church, so I looked around for any sign of anyone.

The restaurant was on the other side, and so was my car. I looked around too for any answers. Then I saw them, a girl and her dog. They were walking slowly, keeping each other company. She wasn’t using a leash, yet there was something unique about the two of them, something peculiar to a witch about strange things in a strange place at a strange time. They usually look odd at a glance to the eyes that were observing enough. The oddity here was how close they walked side by side. Dogs won’t walk that close to the owner, and the girl was talking, saying things. I frowned and looked even closer.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I had found what I was looking for and didn’t want to miss this chance.

I ran down the stairs and removed my shoes to make things much faster. The road was cold to my feet, but I didn’t care.

The lady wore a pair of pants, and the dog -- wolf -- was a mix of ash and gray. Thanks to the street lights. The girl was tall. She had the composure of someone who could run. She carried herself like she was paying attention to her environment, looking back as if she was worried someone would notice them. I kept my shoes behind me and ran even faster.

So I crossed the road again and followed them closely. I kept a reasonable distance behind them and held my phone in one hand, shoes in the other. I took videos of them as they walked down the road. Sometimes I walked, and sometimes I jogged. The girl would laugh at something like she had been tickled under her armpit, and the dog --- or the wolf, I couldn’t tell yet -- would nod its head like it understood the communication. I followed them as noiselessly as possible. I had to run after them. Then… halt…. A police officer stopped them.

The lady and the dog didn't listen, though. They both turned to a corner and began running as fast as they could. The officer wanted to run after them but decided not to, probably because the alley was dark. And God knows what a crazy woman and a dog could do to an officer with a lot of fat in his belly.

I waited for the officer to drive off before I ran in the direction the lady and her dog had followed. I ran as fast as I could, straight down the alley like a drunk athlete. It didn't matter that I had never come on this path before. It didn't matter that it could be dangerous for me. I ran and ran, but they were nowhere to be found. No sound of a dog or a lady. It was as if they both vanished.

So I stopped running and bent with both hands on my knee, breathing and breathing. Then I laughed. There was finally a victory in my search for answers. I turned around, feeling proud. The lady and the dog probably lived around here, and I could find them if I stuck around. I would have to look again. I laughed even more. I had found the answer to the vision that had tormented me for the past few weeks.

I turned around and began to walk to my car like a girl who had won something big.

I walked back to my car feeling like I had been free from some kind of jail. Of course, I was. The things I had been searching for were closer to me than I had thought.

I was by my car again, about to walk towards the driver’s seat, when I noticed a guy standing by his car, holding a girl’s bag. There was something about him anyway. He was standing like a stray cat, confused about where to head.

It was Darius.

Sweet handsome boy like him. He shouldn't feel lost when there are girls like me who wouldn't ask for anything much from him. I was tempted to talk to him. It would bring so much joy to think how sad his girlfriend would feel when she came out of wherever she had gone and realized his boyfriend had left her.

So I walked to him.

He was looking at me as I cat-walked towards him. He couldn't take his eyes off. I smiled at him. When I got close to him, I placed a hand on his shoulder and stared into his eyes. “Come and spend the night with me,” I said.

It would be a great night. I wanted to have a party, and who was better to have by my side than someone who could give me the best?

He followed me to my car and sat beside me in the front. On our way home, he would glance at me and then grin like a 13-year-old who'd finally won a date with his crush. As usual, I didn't care how much of his time I was taking. I didn't care if he liked me or had some faint memories of the last time; I would have what I wanted and leave him again. Or keep tabs on him for when he would be useful. The sweetest part -- I kept imagining his girlfriend’s face, how sad she would be, especially when she realized her so special boyfriend was with another woman.

I looked at him one more time and held his hand. "Come on, boy. We're going to have a great night."