Payback Read Free Page A

when I tried to warn ‘her, actually telling her of my vision, she had refused to listen or to take me seriously
    At first I blamed myself for her death…but I’m slowly coming to grips with it. I realize that God uses all sorts of stuff to guide us and to warn us, but it’s up to us to pay attention, to heed the signs, and to respond accordingly Felicity refused to do that. Now she’s dead. Still, it’s sad. Very, very sad.
    Thinking of Felicity makes me even more determined to uncover what last night’s dream was about—and who was in danger. I just hope I figure it out in time to prevent another death. I don’t think I can bear to see someone else getting hurt. So I shoot up a quick prayer, once again asking God to help me, to guide me…asking that I’ll be tuned in to hear Him.
    I can’t imagine how I would deal with my life without God. These visions and dreams would probably drive me seriouslycrazy—straight to the loony bin. But knowing that they come from Him and that He has the answers makes all the difference. Consequently I am able to focus on my classes for the better part of the day. And I nearly forget about those hard-to-understand things like dreams and visions until the school day is almost done.
    I’m on my way to my last class, which is Art, when something stops me. Because the art building is separate and a good distance from the Social Studies department, where I’ve just been, I’m hurrying across a mostly deserted walkway. But as I turn a corner, something catches my attention in the covered walkway ahead. So I slow down to see what it is. But as I look, I experience that familiar flash of light—my clue that what I’m seeing isn’t really there. I stand still and continue to watch, focusing as much with my inner vision as with anything else.
    At first I think I see a group of five or six guys just messing around. But then I realize the group is picking on a smaller guy. He’s your average-looking kid, dressed in ordinary sort of clothes, and he’s wearing glasses. He’s now being pushed and shoved back and forth, and I briefly wonder if it’s my friend and lab partner, Garrett Pierson. But then I get a closer look and realize it’s not him. This kid has sandy-colored hair that’s sort of wavy. I see a glimpse of his face, and he seems angry at first, but then he becomes seriously frightened as the bullies get rougher with him.
    If this was actually happening in real life, I wouldn’t hesitate to run over there and yell at those stupid thugs. I’d tell them they were big cowards and bullies, and somehow I’d make them stop. But it’s not really happening. At least not right now. Not right here. It’s a vision, and as a result I have no control.I simply stand there and watch as one of the bullies lands his fist right in the victim’s face, resulting in a bloody nose. A few more hits, kicks, and punches. Then they all laugh and take off running.
    Just like that the whole thing vanishes. Now you see it, now you don’t. Even so, the adrenaline is still pumping through me, and my heart is pounding like I’ve just sprinted a hundred meters. And I feel frustrated and angry, like I just witnessed a crime but could do nothing about it. Hopefully it hasn’t happened yet…Maybe I can do something to prevent it from happening at all.
    My hands are still shaky as I walk into the art room, late. Thankfully, Mrs. Morrow seldom marks anyone tardy, and she simply looks up and smiles at me like “no problem.” So I go to my favorite table in the back of the room and try to understand what I just witnessed. Although it makes no sense. I try to link it to the dream I had last night, but nothing in this vision seems related to the other. The only common denominator is that I don’t know any of the people in the dream or the vision. But that in itself isn’t so unusual. For some reason God gives me only a few pieces, and I have to work to fit them together. I guess it’s a way for me to