"Come in, darling."

The door jingled as I walked in. Someone was burning incense strong enough to make me cough.

Haunting chimes and watery flute notes drifted from the store speakers and voices murmured in the back behind a divider as someone sat for a reading.

The waiting line was very long outside and I almost melted from the summer heat.

Thank god, I'm next.

While I waited for them to finish, I walked around the store. Crystals, spell candles, dream catchers and tarot decks surrounded me.

I promise this would be the last psychic I would ask about my future. My best friend thinks I have lost my mind and refuse to go with me. Well, she doesn't like to be insulted by them again.

Madame Elizabeth was the 100th psychic I've visited in this lifetime. I have very high hopes that she can finally interpret the cards I will draw today. Unlike the others.

My penchant for psychics started when I was a freshman in high school. My first card reading was in the storefront window while a gypsy read my palm. I have sat in with kids in the other room and dinner on the stove while a psychic predicted my future.

They tried, though, but in the end, they said that I don't owe them any money and told me to get out of their house and warned me not to come back anymore.

When I was a sophomore, a crazy psychic has cast me out of her shop while screaming bloody murder telling me that I'm not from this world and accuses me of messing with her powers.

And I was like, What the fuck?

I haven't even done anything.

One psychic, an old woman that lived on the attic on a two-story family house was incredibly creepy. I had gone with my best friend from school and it was overall an odd experience.

When she finally called me in, she sat me down in a seating area with sofas while Riley waited for me in a little alcove on the other side of the kitchen door.

She was a white-haired skeleton of a woman so ancient, all wrinkled and weatherproofed. She poured herbal tea on my cup. Without any psychic medium surrounding us, she started spouting nonsense.

"It's really difficult to have a best friend who wants to kill you, always plotting, always waiting for the right moment..." She trailed off. That was the first thing she said to me as she waved her gnarly hand vaguely at the door.

Could have been a good guess. A majority of people probably fantasized about killing their best friends at some point in time.

Right?

"Is his name Gabriel?" she asked and I narrowed my eyes at this psychic, who was maybe a charlatan at the same time.

"Her name is Riley and she's a girl," I replied. "She's my best friend and she's waiting for me outside."

I suddenly don't have a good feeling about this.

"No. Your companion's name is Gabriel." She insisted. "And he's just like you in the matter of souls."

She continued. "He became your friend a year ago and he seems to be everywhere protecting you from harm.

He was supposed to be compelled to kill you the first time he sets his eyes on you, but now, he isn't controlled by what was meant to happen. I wonder what he has done."

"I don't understand." I stood up as I clenched my fists, mourning for the loss of my wasted time. "You seem to be a liar and a bogus psychic at that."

She paused as her peaceful gray eyes settled over me. "Then don't come running to me, child, when I see you crossing over from the afterlife."