My First Visit to a Psychic

I was 30 years old when I visited my first psychic.  I was divorced, between jobs, and living at home again with my parents.  On the way home from the grocery store I passed a sign: Psychic--Walk-ins Welcome.  As I veered off the road I pulled into the driveway of a white clapboard house.  My hopes were high and I felt confident as I knocked on the paint peeled door.  I needed an adventure.

A woman's voice called out, "Come on in." 

In a seemingly normal room I stood alone.  A baby's cry and faint voices seeped from another room. "Take care of the children," the woman murmured, and a man mumbled in response.

My very first psychic swept into the room.  She had swept-up mousy brown hair and wore loose clothes.  Despite her tired and ordinary looks, I was ready to believe anything she said.  We sat on overstuffed chairs around a low table as she talked in monotone circles.  Within a half hour, I had been told almost nothing.

"You have a terrible curse over you.  You must come back soon and I'll help you," she warned in a low voice. 

"Do you know anything else about my future?" I asked.

"Don't worry, we'll talk of that later.  First we have to clear the curse.  These candles will help.  How many can you purchase?"

Concerned, I gave her $65 for the reading and two thin candles.  I left with a heart full of disappointment and trepidation.  I knew she was a scam but she frightened me. 

My fear and wasted money did not stop me from trying again.  Three more times I visited psychics who gave me nothing but frustration.  Caution replaced trust and my wallet lightened with greed.  Since then, I have met women who have lost thousands on scam psychics.  Worse than the loss of money is the lost belief in a hopeful future.  When I started seeing psychics I knew nothing.  I didn't know enough to keep my eyes and ears open.