Indigo Pull

Rachel snapped her hand out towards him, shushing him when he didn’t even know he was about to speak. “I think you had your gift a lot longer than you think. You just did that thing you do and tried to ignore it. You used to cry whenever we did. Didn’t matter why. When Luis fell off his bike, do you remember that?”The images of bright blood rolling down tanned arms popped into his head, the echo of a scream. It’d been summer then, humidity thick, the dirt paths around the farm baking hot. July at its zenith. “Yeah. He needed stitches.”“Exactly. Luis was hurt, but there you were: an ugly, sobbing mess. That was the first time mom had a suspicion.” What Lance remembered didn’t stick out as supernatural, just his own, full heart trying to shoulder everything for everyone else.---This is a story involving an old plantation manor that may or may not be haunted; a story about how bad things happen to good people, often in terrible, ugly ways. This, at its core, is a story about how everyone in Indigo Pull has their own secrets, and how these secrets grow until they cannot be kept, like overgrown fields lost to weeds or a young heart to the temptation of love. -hiatus-