Serenity. A word meaning "calmness." A word you would NEVER use to describe Serenity Walker. Especially after...but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's start at the beginning, because the beginning is a good place to start. Serenity was staying in an apartment and found that her job as a DJ at a local club didn't pay enough to pay the rent, and she didn't want to give up DJ-ing so she put up flyers on the message board on the first floor of her apartment building. As she was putting them up, a guy around her age (which was 24 in case you didn't know) and bright blue eyes walked up to her.
"Hey, um, you're looking for a roommate?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she answered. "And if you want to be my roommate, you must comply with these rules: One: I am a psychic. You have to be okay with that. Two: Don't try to read my mind. You might end up reading your own. Three: Pay half the rent, which is a given. And last and most important: Do not touch me. Got it?"
He smiled. "Got it. I'm Dennis Rafkin."
"Serenity Walker," she answered returning his smile. "When can you move in?"
A few weeks later Dennis was moved in. One night, they started talking.
"So, you said that you're a psychic," he said, "How does that go?"
"Long story," she answered. "But to shorten it up so that it's not an entire book, my entire life, whenever people have even touched me, I've had such extreme emotions that it hurt. And then soon after it was like I could read their thoughts, but for a while it was pretty much just voices in my head. When I was fourteen, a man named Cyrus Kriticos came into my life and told me that I was a psychic and that it was a rare gift. 'Don't put yourself down about it,' he said, 'you are a special person on the inside and out. No one can hurt you unless you let them.' He helped me to train my thoughts so that those voices finally became more distinct, and I could concentrate on one at a time, or block them out entirely."
"Yeah. Cyrus is...a little weird, but he has his moments."
"You—you know Cyrus?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm still working with him to hunt ghosts." He smiled. "I didn't tell you, did I? I'm a psychic, too. I just don't have telepathy."
"Well, could you say hi to him for me?"
"Sure."
She looked up at the clock. "It's almost eleven. I gotta get to work. See ya Dennis."
"Bye."
A few days later, Serenity figured with her job as a DJ at night she could get a day job, so she looked in the classified ads in the paper and found out that the Kriticos family needed someone to cook for them. Considering that she was a pretty decent cook, she called and got an interview scheduled for that Friday. When Friday came, she put on her most conservative outfit, a button down shirt that made her belly button show and a pair of skin-tight jeans, and went to the specified address, which was about a fifteen-minute drive from the apartment.