Insight

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Elizabeth Masen had always loathed her ability to see into the future. With it brought dread, discord and a hopelessness that not even a dying man could understand. She supposed that if she could control her visions that she'd welcome them ardently, embrace them, and use them to avoid particular events, however that was not the case and had never been so. As a child, from the age of five, she was gravely tormented with images of dying grandparents, of a bitter winter, of injustices around town and much more.

However it was a secret to bear as her own, they may not accuse her of witchcraft in this century but the social isolation that would occur would bring about the same despair and pain. To be shunned from the community was like being barred from heaven and being expected to walk thirty miles to hell. She would be without trade, food, comfort and companionship. It was for this reason, why she couldn't even tell her own husband of her skills. She loved and valued him more than she did her own life, but to tell him of her power would be paying exactly that price. Besides, she liked the fact that he saw her only as a bright young woman, who was both innocent and slightly naive. It brought out tenderness in him, one of the major traits that made her love him to begin with.

When they were blessed with a son only a year after their marriage, she prayed endlessly that he would be born without the curse of foresight, that the light in his green eyes would not darken and tarnish with visions of terrible events yet to occur. It was a heavy weight to bear, and she couldn't stand the thought of her adorable two month old son being forced to deal with such matters one day, even if it were in the far future. A normal life was all that she desired for him. Thankfully, he appeared not to possess any such powers even by the age of six, and Elizabeth's worry lessened significantly.

When Elizabeth's husband expressed his concern of having more children, she acted on instinct, hastily convincing her husband that one child was plenty and that any more would be more of a hindrance than a delight. It pained her to say the words, especially with her son in sight, playing merrily outside with the neighbour's child, his laughter carrying through the open window. To have more children would be a wonderful gift, however she didn't want to risk passing on her power any more than she already had, and so let herself be content with her only son. In him, she invested all her time and effort.

Edward was remarkably intelligent for a young boy of his age, and his piano playing was exceptional, a talent inherited from his father. Not only that, but he was sweet, polite and kind, something that Elizabeth was more proud of than his accomplishments. If another child had no one to play with, he would go up and introduce himself, if Elizabeth was making dinner, he would set the table and arrange the cutlery without being asked or expected to. She could not be more happy with her son, than she already was, and was relieved to find that none of her terrifying visions included him. However, a decade later this statement was challenged, bringing back the uneasiness that had accompanied Elizabeth most of her son's infant years.

The vision had plagued her in her dreams on the fifteenth of August in the middle of the night. Her husband thought nothing odd of it, finding it an understandable response to the unforgiving war that raged around them. He knew she was worried that their son would foolishly join it so when she gasped out his name, feverish sweat desecrating her pale forehead and tears gathering in her eyes, he thought nothing of it, kissing her forehead and patting her hand.

Elizabeth knew it was inevitable that one day she would bear witness to her own demise, but to have it happen in reality was a completely different thing. It didn't surprise her that death would take her in the form of the flu. Even perfectly healthy people caught it, and it was very common. Dying of influenza was preferable to dying of tuberculosis, she conceded. It pained her to see her husband beside her in the hospital bed, coughing until blood mingled with the spit in his hands, but she knew he'd prefer death to a lifetime without her. No, it was her son in the bed adjacent to her that made her feel so sick. Never had he looked so young, so vulnerable than he did in her vision, his pale eyes fluttered closed, his bronze hair matted to his wet forehead and his sweaty body shivering with fever, all signs of impending death. She couldn't bear to see it, to even think it, and although she knew it was practically impossible, she had to find a way to save him, there was simply no other option. He had to live, even if she couldn't.

Edward didn't understand why his mother had become so much more protective and doting. She insisted on silly things, such as staying inside when he could have played a perfectly good game of baseball with his friends in the sunshine, and wearing a mask in public. He refused the latter and ripped it off as soon as he left the house, unwilling to be utterly humiliated by his peers. He didn't understand. Not yet. But he would. Soon. The time was swiftly approaching.

Elizabeth was a nervous wreck the entire year of nineteen eighteen. No more visions had come, and although this was slightly a relief, it also induced terror within her. She couldn't bear to believe that her lack of visions meant that there was no future for any of them.

It wasn't until a week before the epidemic that Elizabeth finally had another vision. It greeted her when she least expected it, as she was having tea with the Morgans. Breaking a few social rules, she darted out of the room and raced to the front porch, heaving as she leant over the railings and let the vision overtake her. It was of a strange man with blonde hair and startlingly golden eyes who leaned over her son in his hospital bed. She noted by his attire that he was a doctor, and hoped with her entire being that this was the vision she'd been praying for. Her hand flew to her mouth as she watched him bite into her son's neck and then wheel his body into the morgue before running with impossible velocity to his home. She saw her sons eyes turn from bright green to piercing red and heard the foreign anger in his voice as he yelled at the man to stop talking. She was confused by this, but let it go, wanting to focus on the more important details of the vision. The vision was almost as worse as the first one, but not quite, because her son lived in one way or another.

After a few days, she accepted that the vision was her son's fate, but still agonised over it none the less. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing, but she reconciled with the fact it wasn't his time to die; god wouldn't be so cruel. She would let fate unfurl as it would. He would be alright. He was strong. He was good. He would survive. That was all she wanted, regardless.

…

Elizabeth literally felt on the brink of death as she wrestled with the fever and not for the first time, she begged for death to be swift. In the minutes where she returned to her right state of mind, she got up despite the nurse's commands, and tried to heal her dying son, telling him that everything would be alright, and trying to break his fever by placing a damp washcloth against his forehead. She also looked every once in a while for the odd doctor with the golden eyes. It wasn't until she was in her hospital bed and too tired to rise again that she saw him, the doctor. Despite looking fit as a fiddle physically, the tiredness in his topaz eyes said differently and as he placed his hand on her bedrail, she clutched onto his hand, seizing the opportunity. She spoke with the vigour of someone who was well.

"You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."

He looked at her, stunned and amazed, but then nodded, his face torn with confliction before he walked over to her son's bed and stared at him. As he did so, Elizabeth was hit with yet another vision, her last in fact.

It was of her son again, except in this one, he was completely different, and not just in physical appearance. He gave off an air of maturity, of a confidence that he did not currently posses, yet he was still youthful and lively. The thing that shocked but ultimately pleased Elizabeth the most was not his curiously amber eyes, but the fact that they were shining with a love and devotion with an intensity she'd never seen in him. She couldn't remember ever seeing him look so happy. The brown-eyed beauty he smiled at looked just as radiant. She couldn't think of a better matched pair.

Elisabeth sighed with utter relief and let her eyes flutter shut, knowing that no matter what occurred, everything would be alright if she let the doctor take Edward away. He deserved the happiness she saw. It would be his final gift to her. She smiled as she stroked her engagement ring softy as death began to lull her away. She could've sworn she saw it on the girl's finger.

Thoughts?