I have received
threats from murder perpetrator’s families, so I can’t give close details on a
case that haunts me. I can say that the killer is in jail, seemingly without my
help. I first reached out to the detective in the case, an old school man who had
a lot of set opinions. He agreed that we should meet, and my intellect more
than my psychic ability led him to listen to my ideas.
He insisted on taping the conversation. That made me uncomfortable, especially when I “saw” how the woman died, while I cried and grabbed a trash can since I felt sick. It was only my third case, and I hadn’t yet hardened my heart.
As I “saw” her murder, I was floating by the ceiling at the entrance of the living room. That in itself was odd, in that I hadn’t before realized that I could time travel in that way. I realized that he had known her for many years, and they had been connected and spoke on several occasions. I left the police station feeling terrible, more terrible than usual. A young woman, prime of her life, a teacher, friend, daughter. I sat in my car and said to myself, can’t you do more? Can’t you think of a name for the murderer, or exactly where he lived, when you know he lived close by?
That detective retired and either threw our tape away or took it home, then he died. The next detective on the case called me back in. I couldn’t remember much, and to start from the beginning was so hard for me. I felt worthless.
When I saw on television that he was captured I had a little party, alone at my little house on a hill. I had given him a nickname, but it wasn’t accurate. The report did say they knew each other, so that redeemed me.
I’m not a detective. I’m an add on. I’m not trained. I haven’t taken any classes in this area. I make mistakes. I’m sometimes a huge help, sometimes I’m not. I wish I were perfect but don’t we all? For a myriad of reasons, I have this ability. Some days I’d like it to swirl down the drain.
After fifteen years of murder work, at age 55, I did a little dance to the powers that gave me this gift, to take it away. I told the voice in my head, I’m tired, it’s time for someone else to take my place. The good news is that it’s gone. As Dusty Springfield sang, Wishin’ and Hopin’. I wished and hoped it away.
Posts
