Summer Night

I sat on my porch swing listening to the sounds of Erykah Badu flowing through the air. I hear the crunching of a twig breaking in half and then the rustle of leaves off in the woods. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and I peaked around the corner of the porch expecting to see a squirrel scampering up a nearby tree. I saw nothing, so I sat back down on the porch swing telling myself it was just my imagination. Just as I was starting to relax again I heard a constant crunching of leaves and twigs indicating footsteps that were quickly approaching my house.

I got a tingly feeling in my fingers and it started to move up my arms. I knew I was about to have a vision, and just like that I was dropped out of reality into a place that for now only existed in my mind. I was on Elm st a few blocks from my house and there was a little boy in black shorts and a bright teal shirt. He was laughing and eating an ice cream cone, walking with an unidentified man in a gray suit. Suddenly the scene changed from nostalgic to tragic in a mere second, and I was back in my own body on my porch. When I opened my eyes there was a distraught woman standing in front of me. Her dress was dirty and the hemline was torn unevenly as if it had been caught in something while she was running, but she didn't stop.

“Ma'am are you alright?” I asked concerned.

“He's gone,” she said, her bottom lip quivering.

“Who's gone,” I asked in a sweet voice like one would use to speak to a toddler.

“He's gone,” she repeated.

“Did he have on a blue shirt?” I asked.

Her eyes lit up and she nodded profusely, “so you know where he is- you know where my baby is take me to him!” she said grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.

“We can't go to him,”

“Why can't we? If you know where he is you have to tell me I'm his mother! His dad took him didn't he? Your on his side you stupid bitch,” she said slapping me hard across the face.

“He was with a man, yes, but I'm not on his side. I just found out about it before you walked up on the porch,” I said grabbing her hands and restraining them in mine.

“Well were is he?” she pleaded with me.

“You'll find him at the city morgue. I'm sorry ma'am, but your son was hit by a car,” I whispered to her and then caught her as she collapsed into a myriad of sobs.