Seer Me Wrong ✔

Visions & Prophecies

The wind was blowing hard against the old farmhouse in the middle of the field off of Parrish Lane. The house has been in the family for generations. Battered and worn down, but the family held on tight to it. Family pride ran deep in these parts. That, farming, drinking, and going to church were the only things to do in Miner's Fork, Tennessee.

Their farm was large, and they did have a bit of everything. There the family grew their crops here. You name it, and it was in the garden or the fields. Inside the old blue and white farmhouse with the beaten porch lived the Baxter family.

The father, Mark, was a Pastor for the local church, Our Saving Grace. His wife, Lillian, was a teacher at the elementary school and taught Sunday School as well. The Baxter's had three children who were their pride and joy. John was the oldest, then Matthew and Theresa were last. She's their little girl and Mark doted on her like she was a princess. Mark practiced what he preaches, he taught his children to love and fear God. Anything other than Christianity did not exist in his world.

The wind rattling her window is what woke little Theresa in the middle of the night. She got out of her bed and tiptoes across the shadow-laden room. Blinded by the light pouring in from the giant lamp post her father and brothers had installed. After her eyes had adjusted she peered out into the yard. First, she looks at the barn, wondering what has upsets, Bessie.

She's staring out in space thinking of nothing but childish nonsense. Something moved in front of the barn's doors, moving back and forth in a hurry. Theresa didn't get a good look. She glances at her clock. The display glares at 2:57 AM in red color.

No one should be up quite yet, Papa won't wake up for at least another hour, and he won't wake up John and Matt till at least 5:00 AM. Theresa looks back out, hoping she would see who was wandering around her farm. She stood there in front of her window till her legs got tired. She was about to give up and chalk it up to sleepiness, she saw something move a little.

Stretching onto her tiptoes, attempting to wake her legs and get a better view of who was out there. The intruder knew when she was looking. When they would move and she would look, and they would stop. She was getting tired of this.

She crept through her room, doing her best to be sneaky. She took her time opening her door. Here she paused for a second to make sure no one else was awake. She walks down the hallway. Taking the stairs as gentle as possible, doing her absolute best to avoid the squeaky planks.

When she made it to the bottom she paused again, making sure no one got up. She would be in a lot of trouble if she got caught out of bed at this hour. She approaches the back door she peers through the window. She could see something moving around the far side.

Her small hand wraps around the doorknob. Pulling the door open with ease, and hoping it didn't make too much noise. Not a worry in her head about the porch door as brand-new.

She was out in the yard before she could talk herself out of it. It was chillier than she thought it should be for late August. She wraps her arms around herself as she trotted across the yard. When she got to the barn she slowed down a bit, she didn't want to spook whoever was inside.

She walked around to the back of the barn hoping the person would have their back to her. as she rounded the corner all she could see that the person was messing with Bessie through the window. At first, she thought the person was trying to hurt Bessie. then she realized they were petting her and whispering to her. Theresa moved closer to the mystery person to get a better look at this intruder.

They were older, that she could tell by the way they carry themselves. They were wearing aged overalls and a gray or white shirt, it was hard to tell in the shadows of the barn. The person must have either heard Theresa move or senses her because they turn to face her.

"Poppop!" Theresa exclaims and runs to her grandfather with her arms wide open.

"Now, little," He puts his hand out in front of him.

"You can't hug me right now, you are not supposed to see me," Poppop said. Theresa's face loses its glow and her arms drop to her sides.

" But why Pop-pop? Don't you miss me?" she asks in a small voice.

"Of course I do little one. Why are you out here this late?" He gave her a firm look, she didn't seem to notice there was something different about Poppop.

"The wind woke me up, and I was looking out my window and I saw you. I had to make sure nothing ill was going on out here but I'm glad it's you."

"Little one, you should not be out here, you need to go back inside where it is safe." He glances around as he talks. He looks nervous.

"Pop-pop will come to see you tomorrow, OK?" He promises.

"I will only go in if you walk with me Poppop." Theresa coaxes.

"Of course a gentleman always walks his lady to the door."

Pop-pop and Theresa walked across the yard in a hurry. The whole time Poppop's eyes darted around them as if he expected something to jump out. At any moment. He opens the door for her and pushes her through the doorway and got down on her level.

"I will be here tomorrow at midnight, you will have to let me in, and then we can talk. OK, little one?" he whispers to her.

"Yes, Pop-pop. I will be here with bells on." Theresa went to her room. She cuddles her blanket and had comforting dreams of her Poppop. Little did she know that this would be one of the last times she slept in her own home.

Everything blurs away, leaving me wheezing, kneeling on the floor. My scrying bowl sat in front of me, the water still rippling from my journey. Despair fills my heart, and I fight tears.

The vision always ended the same way, now.

I'd rather have her locked away than her be dead.

After the vision let go, I began to write in my new journal. Putting all my hopes and intentions of her getting this book, as I wrote.

She has to live and learn. She's the one the stars spoke of.