Disclaimer: South of nowhere mine.

Authors Note : This story falls into the extra sensory/supernatural/science fiction realm. For the record, Kyla and Ashley aren't sisters in this. They will not be related in any way. OH, Ashley, Aiden, and Kyla are all Sophmores in college, Spencer is a "Junior."

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EDITED
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The Unsaid & Unseen
Chapter One : Hearing Voices

Ashley Davies sat up in her bed, unable to sleep.
"Dammit."

I wrapped my arms around my knees, beyond anxious now. Aiden's loud snoring booming in my ears didn't really help my case any.

I scoffed, glaring down at his muscular back. "Aiden. Aid, babe, wake up."

It's been hours now, well into the morning, and I was still worrying and panicking like some foolish child. I was more mature than this. Hell, I've been a mother for nearly six years that should've packed at least some maturity in me.

I am nineteen, for Christ's sake, an adult. It wasn't like this was my first day in kindergarten, or, hell, even New York. Aiden and I had moved here from Los Angeles two years ago, after we'd gotten our acceptance letters, and college life has been fairly tolerable. Luckily, given his basketball scholarship, Aiden managed to snag a University only half hour from mine near the Upper East Side of town. To make it easier, Aiden's generous and very wealthy parents found us an apartment that met in the middle. My mother even moved here as well, so I wouldn't be so far from Sophie while I was away at college, my five year old daughter. (Who knew one night with your best friend, and a hidden pack of wine coolers from the garage, could lead to getting pregnant and having a kid at fourteen. However foolish I was back then, I don't regret having her, and never will.) We switch every other morning. She and her live in the fully paid condo my father had purchased near Central Park before he died about seven years ago. Decades of rock n' roll partying had finally caught up with him, and he'd suffered from liver failure. But he loved his family, and in the days before his death, he'd told me how much he regretted his past, how proud of me he was. He also told me he wanted to keep us safe and secure after he'd passed. Which he knew wasn't too far from happening. Little did we know, father had saved much more than he'd told mother, and it was this life savings that he left with his family.

Looking back on the past few years, it's unbelievable to me that I'd passed my SAT's, or even made it into the college that I'm attending now. I was never the most focused child in the world, I could never sit still enough to do my homework, and it lasted well into middle school. Or, most importantly, that I was still alive. Five years ago, I'd survived a near-death experience after giving birth to my daughter Sophie. I mean, with all things considered, I wouldn't be here if I hadn't. Seen the world. Then again. I wouldn't be the freak I am now. I wouldn't have woken up the morning after Sophie was born and, somehow, hearing her heartbeat. Her thoughts. Or, even worse, realizing that the dozens of whispers coming from my crying mother had reached my ears while her mouth was closed.

A mind reading freak, I thought to myself, pressing my knees tighter against my chest. A freak that can't even enjoy the last day of Christmas break because she's too afraid to go back to college. Because back there, awaits hundreds of people, hundreds of thinking people.

Insomnia-ridden, brown eyes flit around her darkened bedroom of her and her boyfriend/best friend Aiden's apartment. An outsider looking in wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary about it, about us. I planned it keep it that way, for Sophie, because if my secret got out I'd be committed. She'd lose her mother, and I never want that to happen. But no matter how normal I seemed on the outside, on the inside, deep down, it wasn't the truth. Unable to fight the fire behind my eyes, I lower myself down, instinctively blocking out the persistent sounds from outside my window.

When I awake several hours later, my sleep deprived vision observes Aiden's absence on the bed. Minutes later, the bathroom door swung open with Aiden fresh out of the shower and a towel draped across his toned waist. "Rise and shine, gorgeous," He greets, purposely raising his voice, while getting the water out of his ears. "Time to get ready, your song-writing class starts in an hour. No sleeping in." Ignoring the "I hate you" I grumbled into the pillow, Aiden pulls my covers away, and effortlessly yanks me off of my feet and into his arms. I crossed my arms awkwardly in his embrace, ignoring his smug expression. To which he then pouts. Quite adorably. Damn you, Dennison.

"Fine," I muttered, wiggling out of his arms. "But you're paying for the Tylenol. After today, I'm gonna need it."

Aiden frowns, he knows what that means. Yet, victoriously, he's leaning down to capture his lips with mine. I push away from him gently, pressing my lips against his once more before skipping off to the bathroom. Smirking, Aiden follows, slamming the door behind him.

Aiden weaves gracefully through buzzing traffic, his XR1200X Harley Davidson sportster motorcycle easily pushing past the air around us with miraculous precision. A thing of beauty, jet black and blinding silver metal masking its appearance. Although it drives Aiden's parent's crazy, my safer, reliable SUV we drive when we've got Sophie seems to shut them up. That and the weekly privilege of watching Sophie when she's unable to attend the daycare downtown.

My eyes trail lazily across the Manhattan skyline, resting my head firmly against Aiden's shoulder as I witnessed its breathtaking sunrise for the dozenth time. We soon round a corner, alongside a maze of darkened alleyways and New York's many food venders. When we approached one of them, I notice the engine's speed increase before Aiden's hand is sweeping out and grabbing a lily from a row of bouquets. In the back of my mind, I hear the faint sound of a whispered I love you. Smiling, I silently tucked the delicate flower into my coat, tightening my arms around his waist. Before long, the bike is entering the campus entrance, growling gently, before coming to a stop in the parking lot.

Shrugging off my helmet, I squinted up into the withering, early morning clouds of Saturday's hail storm that still lingered before resting them on the campus grounds behind us. Not even a hundred students were already here, some were having their own little breakfast too. I'd give it another ten minutes before about three hundred more showed up. Aiden hits the kickstand, shutting off the bike's engine.

"A half hour early, right on time." Aiden arches back on the bike, pulling a crinkled paper bed out of the cargo pouch. He smiles, wiggling it in front of my face. "Wouldn't want my girl to start her day back from break on an empty stomach."

"You sure you're not a mind reader too?" Aiden's lip twitches, still not too comfortable teasing about such a fragile thing in public. I snatched the bag from his hands, falling into his muscular chest, gently kissing away his frown. "Thanks for the flower by the..."

Then it happens; that familiar white noise of static slamming against my temples, pushing forcefully through the barriers within my mind, and registering with impeccable comprehension in my ears. Thoughts, no, screams. A tiny moan slips from my throat, surprising both of us.

"I'm okay, Aiden," I'm muttering, pinching the bridge of my nose in hopes to quell the stinging. This wasn't the first time. I didn't want him to worry. "Some couple is fighting on campus somewhere." I take a breath, feeling the 'migraine from hell' fading. They never did last too long, thankfully. "He's just really, really fucking pissed she cheated on him with his best friend."

"Maybe you should just sit out today," He says, standing, hands on my shoulders. "Get your bearings back, you know. The country made you-"

"No, I needed the break," I stopped him, fully recovered, turning around in his arms. "We needed it. I wanted to spend time with you, and Sophie. But we're not in the country anymore, I know that. I just need to adapt to this again, is all..."

We just stayed there, staring into the other's eyes, until Aiden looks away, past the brick buildings of the college dominating the skyline, past the field of green and forest trees farther away. "I wish you could just block them out," He whispers, tilting his head back to give me a sardonic smile. "But you already know that."

I could only nod, leaning into him. "I stopped wishing that a long time ago. Doesn't stop me from thinking I'm going crazy though... But I've read about people coming out of dying doing things they didn't before. Mine's just a little more, out there. Look at it this way, I could've come out seeing dead people, so I'm glad I skipped that boat."

Aiden shakes his head, trying not to smile. "Now that's definitely not normal."

"So is flat lining for an hour," I shot back, still cringing at the memory even though it was years ago now. "Normal doesn't apply to me anymore, babe."

Aiden's mouth opened to respond, but I don't hear him, someone else's voice has joined our conversation. My head turns, looking into the sea of students, my ears picking up on the certain distinct, annoying whisper I'd come to recognize whether I wanted to or not. Ugh. Great. Tim. Out of all the colleges in New York, he HAD to get accepted into mine.

"Aiden, what the hell ya' still doing here, Bro?" Tim calls out, much too loudly, running over to us. "Your class starts in less than an hour, going to take at least that to get your bike uptown."

Aiden shakes his head, but still high fives him. "Breakfast first, dude."

Fat ass, Tim snorts, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders. I instantly stiffen. "How's the ole' ball and chain treating you, Dennison?" I scoffed, ripping his arm off of me, and moving closer to Aiden. Fucking jackass.

"Ohh, feisty, I like that," He remarks, smirking his lopsided grin. Not to mention, a not-too-obvious peek down my shirt. Nice tits, Davies. Who knew? "If you ever decide to let this one go, Aid', I'm totally free. A little surly for my taste though."

"That's it," I snapped, pulling my bag from the cargo compartment, and kissing Aiden's cheek. "I'll see you at four, Aid." I stomp off, before I can stop myself, I'm stopping abruptly in front of Timothy Greenwood. I jab a finger in his face, eyes flashing. "DO NOT stare at my ass or my boobs again. Or I'll kick your nuts so far up your ass, you'll taste them for a week."

The shocked expression he's sporting then is satisfying enough, so I strode away, and into the sea of people.

It's an hour until three, and I'd just arrived in my last class of the day, Psychology. For the oddest reason, it's held in one of the few seminar auditoriums in the convention center near the college. Each class holds nearly eighty to a hundred students, who were randomly scattered about the colossal space awaiting the professor to arrive. I settle into a theatre chair in the back, hoping to distance myself a little bit more from their thoughts. Nevertheless, the young woman in the row in front of me stops her movements, head turning around swiftly. An alarmed expression quickly appears on her face, then disappears once she sees me, slapping a hand to her chest.

"Jesus, girl, ya' trying give me a heart attack?" She breathes, laughing nervously. Before I could sputter an apology, she's waving me off. "It's good, no harm done. Hey, I've just transferred into this course, and haven't really mingled much." She turns in her seat, offering her hand. "I'm Kyla Woods, proud Baltimorean. And you are?"

"A-Ashley Davies, Los Angeles" I stammered, pushing away the incessant voices around me until they were practically whispers; A gentle ringing. I didn't want to scare anyone else off. That was until this happens.

"Wait, you're Raife Davies daughter, right?" Kyla gasps, beaming. "Girl, ya' know that you're dad, like, donated tons of money to this college? I mean, he's got his name on a wall n' everything."

"Yeah..." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment. "That's not in the brochure, is it?"

"I'm afraid so."

Ashley double-takes, seeing as the words hadn't came from Kyla. She turned towards the soft voice, inexplicably drawn into a pair of haunting, dark purple eyes.

This girl, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted hoodie, somehow, to Ashley, looked anything but drab. She was, well, honestly, attractive. She couldn't lie about that. With involuntary, enamored precision, my eyes couldn't help but take her in. From golden hair in waves across her shoulders to the—when I looked close enough—ungodly dark purple color of her eyes. I honestly believed for a second to be real. I brushed the thought off quickly, among the others, thinking I had already invaded this stranger's personal space. Which, unfortunately, wasn't easy. Because I couldn't take my eyes off of the young woman, despite my attempts. (Neither could she, apparently, a twisted, foreign expression flitting across her timeless face.) Because my heart started beating a little too fast, limbs turning into rubber. Because, most importantly, that never ending whispering of everyone's thoughts inside my head?

It stopped.

"Well, well, not bad, Skipper," Kyla drawls, patting the girl on the back. However, the mysterious blonde doesn't take her eyes away from me, seeming to look just as unnerved by our encounter. A shift in her eye color startles me, and I swear they looked almost black. "Took the girl's breath away. That's a new record for you! Why are you late anyway, you're never late. Where ya' been?"

"Technically, Gilligan, I'm only late if the class is in session," She deflects, without hesitation, finally breaking our gaze. Once this happens, all the unsaid whispers in the room comes smashing back. Squeezing my eyes shut, opening them, I slowly adapt to the familiar noises. What the hell just happened? "Speaking of, Professor Sumner arrives in 4...3...2..."

"Good morning, class," the Professor booms, suddenly striding into the room, and upto his desk.

As students quickly clamor over each other to find their proper seats, Ashley just stares open-mouthed at the silent blonde feet from her, while Kyla rolls her eyes. The three, careless of the professor's lecture, stuck outside of the center, and onto the roof. After the expectant introductions, they'd spent their time getting to know each other, which Ashley found to be very fun, she enjoyed being around Kyla and Skipper. Although Skipper didn't talk quite as much, she was very smart-an intellectual, she'd traveled to many places and experienced countless cultures, and charming, something Ashley felt very drawn to. Like, however long they'd talk, she'd never get tired of hearing what she had to say. But what confused Ashley the most was that, however much she strained herself, she couldn't reach the girl's thoughts. She chooses to put this aside, not wanting to dwell on something that would only worry her. If anything, it was a sort of break, a small moment of normality for the first time in years.

Halfway through a disastrous game of twenty questions, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Aiden. Holding up a hand, I flipped the phone open, and heard the words that I'd never wanted to hear in my entire life.

"Sophie's in the hospital," Aiden stammers, shakily. "She's—She's running a fever, her throat was closing up. She couldn't breathe, Ash."

I swallowed hard, something hard and heavy dropping in the pit of my stomach. "I-I'm on my way."

Before I could even strangle the words from my mouth, the two girl's are pulling my up by my shoulders, Skipper offering her car as a ride to the hospital. The ride there will be the most longest, scariest moment I'd ever had to experience. I barely register Skipper telling me she's going to find a parking place, already flinging myself out of the car. The second I see Aiden's hunched form pacing in the hospital waiting room, I'm running, slamming my body into his stone chest.
An allergic reaction, he whispers; thoughts too emotional to say it out loud, something she'd ate at the daycare center. They've had her for over an hour without a word, I'm so fucking scared, Ash.

Struggling, I pulled myself out of his thoughts, wiping at the tears in his eyes. We spent the next few minutes there, standing against the other, until I see the blurred figures of Skipper and Kyla walking towards us.

"These are friends, they gave me a ride," I explained, and Aiden nods, gratefully. "Aiden, this is Kyla and Skipper."

"Wouldn't tell me her name," Kyla supplies, scoffing, subconsciously trying to break the tension. "S'first name I thought of. Isn't that right, Skipper?"

"She's still mad I won't tell her," Skipper adds, shifting now sparkling, green eyes onto me. But once she notices my interest on her eyes, she's looking away. "Skip's starting to grow on me though."

Twenty minutes later, a doctor finally arrives, telling us first and foremost Sophie was okay. However, she would need to take medication for the allergic reaction, recommending Aiden and I keep an eye on her overnight just to be safe. While Aiden filled out the necessary paperwork for her leave, the three of us hastily found Sophie's room. Skipper falls in step beside me, so quickly that I don't notice her until she's there. A warm hand grasps onto my arm, and I notice her brief glance at me, before fixing her ever-changing eyes on the space infront of us. The action was meant to quell my nerves, I guessed, but inside, it only sent every single one of them into a frenzy that nearly made me faint. Before long, I was inside my daughter's room, staring down at her sleeping form, stroking her beautiful face.

"Hell of a day back, I'd say," Kyla jokes, softly. She peers down at Sophie, giving her tiny hand a squeeze. "Nice to meet you, Sophie Christopher-Lilly Davies Dennison. Wow, kid, with a mouthful like that, you're definitely going to hate Kindergarten."

"Careful, Kyla," Skipper warns, slipping beside me. "Wouldn't want that child to be burdened with your sailor's mouth, now would we?"

Kyla rolls her eyes, continuing her observations of my daughter as Skipper and I watched silently.

"She has your eyes," Skipper's whisper is near my ear, making my stomach twist and shred pleasantly. I side glance at the blonde, feeling dazed at the unusual sensation. Ashley couldn't mistake the deep, strong blue of her eyes then, but she keeps it to herself. "She's going to break many hearts when she gets older, I can tell."

I looked away from my daughter's hospital bed, eyes falling once more on the silent beauty by my side. A sudden need to discover, to see something within the stranger overcame me then, my eyes unable to focus on anything but her face. The calm, controlled expression that lay there let's me believe that, somehow, she knows what I'm doing; she's letting me do it. So we stand there, face-to-face, each studying the other. My eyes never leaving hers as the beautiful blue glittered brightly in the light almost numbing me into silence. She was definitely different than everyone else.

Cocking my head, the intimate admission dripped from my lips like acid; careful and dangerous.
"This feels strange."

The blonde regards me carefully, surprised by my response, as if it were some decipherable code she couldn't crack.
"I know the feeling," She whispers.

Stepping closer, aware of personal boundaries and crossed lines, I stared into those damn eyes. I was focusing, focusing hard to hear anything—any spark of sound from the ocean of silence. However, my answer came only from Kyla and Sophie a few feet away. I almost groaned, annoyed and fascinated at the same time. It struck me by how much we seemed to communicate silently, when I struggled so much to communicate with everyone else on a daily basis.

After five years of constant hell, I finally found one person that proposed an escape, even if for only a second. But at what cost?

Why her?

Why was she different?

R&R.