11.23.13: Mind Reader

So, I've had a non-stop headache for like weeks now...I've been getting really bad ones lately so I was in my creative writing class and thought, hmmm, I wonder if my headaches mean that I'll be able to read people's minds (doubt it but it might make a good story). So here's my first attempt at writing about super powers:

My head pounds. It’s been going on like this for days now. It hurts so much that my vision goes blurry. I’m losing focus. My balance is failing. Silence. Black.

            My eyes flutter open. What happened? My headache is still here. Why won’t it go away?

            “But Ashley told Jake…” I whip around. I didn’t know other people were here. Why didn’t they wake me up?

            “Hello? Is anyone there?” No one answers me. I’m alone.

            “But if the biological makeup of bitumen…” I thought I was alone.

            “Who’s there,” I repeat. I still receive no answer. What the hell is bitumen? I try to call out for who-ever again. “Who’s Ashley? Who’s Jake? What’s bitumen? Hello?” Silence. Great. I’ve lost my mind. Literally. Still silence. Where are these voices coming from? I press my fingers to my temple and rub in slow, deliberate circles. That doesn’t help. I pinch together the skin between my eyebrows and my nose and I feel the pulsing go through my hand. Pulse, pulse, pulse, beat, beat, beat like my heart.

            My head feels like someone is crushing it between his or her hands. I try to focus on my breathing: in and out, in and out. My focus is beginning to fade; my vision blurs. Silence. Black.

            What’s happening? My eyes begin to focus again. Still alone…or at least I think I am. I need to get out of here. Let me go home. I push myself off of the library couch and grab my backpack. Too much studying…it’s finals week…that’s what’s wrong with me.

            I fling the doors out and walk into the brisk morning. I must’ve spent the night at the library without even realizing it. I keep my eyes concentrated on the sidewalk as people pass me by. They’re all trying to talk to me. I didn’t realize that I knew so many people on campus. But I don’t care what they have to say. And then I realized that they’re all talking to me.

            But I don’t know them. I don’t know him or her or them. Why are they talking to me? Why won’t they stop? Stop talking to me. Please, please stop. I was about to turn to the girl next to me to tell her to shut up when I realized that her lips weren’t moving.

            I couldn’t tell anyone to shut up because no one was actually talking to me.