It's a curse.

It has to be. Magick wouldn't, no, couldn't be this cruel. She doesn't have a cruel bone in her body, yet the magick gave her this power. A power she doesn't want. A power she wishes she'd never looked into.

She just wanted to know how long her mother had left before she was going to die. She hadn't meant for the magicks to ingrain themselves within her, become part of her life, part of her identity.

But they were. And she hated it.

Every hand she touched, every time someone laid a hand on her shoulder, tapped her to get her attention, bumped into her in the hallway, every time she made contact with someone, she saw their death.

The guy that sat behind her in Social Studies class tapped her shoulder one day, all he wanted was a pen, but she got hit by one of the harshest visions she'd had in a while. 2016, alone in an apartment in New York, rats running around him, injecting something into his bloodstream. She felt sick, she had to leave, had to get out of there.

So she ran.

She didn't exactly know for how long, but she didn't leave the campus. She took deep breaths of air, steadying herself against an old willow tree by the basketball court. It had been a while since she'd had a vision. She kept to herself, didn't offer human contact. People spread rumours she was a germaphobe, which she didn't mind. If it kept people from touching her, she'd take whatever she could get.

The power didn't help her when she first got it, she thought if she knew how long her mother had, maybe she could save her, maybe she could help in some way. But no, it just showed her what she would see in 5 months time anyway. There was nothing she could do to help, and now, she couldn't help anyone, couldn't warn them not to eat that burger in 25 years, not to drive their car on the 18th of March 2031, not to jump off that roof when they're 26. No-one would believe her.

She collected her bag from the grass at the base of the tree and slung it over her shoulder, sighing. She couldn't avoid everything all day, she had to go back eventually. At least she enjoyed what she had next. Wicca group. Or at least, wanna-be-Wicca group.

As she made her way back across campus, she found herself in the middle of the jocks, throwing a ball back and forth. Try as she might, she couldn't avoid them all, and one of the jocks bumped into her. Her books went completely forgotten as the hit the ground as she got hit with her second vision of the day. 2000, college gym changing room,steroid overdose.

As she came out of it, she dropped down and gathered up her books, faintly looking back in the direction the jocks ran off to. So I guess the faculty might be getting an anonymous tip about drugs in the football team.

She finally made it to Wicca group, settling down on a stool by the door, dropping her bag on the floor in front of her. The rest of the girls filled in the seats around her. She barely paid attention anymore, the group are only good for cookies, but she still liked to go, it gave her a sense of belonging. Even if it was the same every week.

Or maybe it wasn't.

She ignored Nicole as she started talking, it was probably just about another bake sale anyway. What she couldn't ignore was the new girl in the group. The redhead with her gentle frown as she listened to Nicole talk. She zoned back in when she realized Cheryl was talking.

"...blessing out to the sisters. Also, who left their scented candles dripping all over my womyn-power shrine?" Probably you. Wait, the redhead's talking.

"Well, this is good, this is all fun… a bake sale, some baked goods there... But there's also other stuff... that we might show interest in… as a Wicca group..." Oh goddess, is she going to say what I think she is?

"Like what?" Nicole asked, giving off her own brand of bittersweet fake smiles.

"Well, there's the wacky notion of spells..." Oh goddess she's a real witch. She missed whatever Cheryl and Nicole said next, but by the look on the redhead's face, it was something dismissive.

"I th-think that… m-m-maybe..." Oh great, well done, you spoke up, now everyone's looking at you.

"Yeah? Tara? Guys, quiet. You have a suggestion?" Okay Cheryl, that hurt. Tara looked around at the rest of the girls still looking at her, and gently shook her head, looking back down. And now the redhead will never talk to me. "Okay. Then let's talk about the theme for the bacchanal." Cheryl, please.

_x_x_x_

Tara walked about her room, putting away her new candles, thinking back to the Wicca group meeting, and more specifically, the redhead.

Oh yes Tara, great idea. Introduce yourself to the cute girl and then never allow any physical contact, what a wonderful idea I can see that going down great.

Tara sighed, moving back to sit on her bed. She flopped back on her bed. Yep. Curse.

_x_x_x_

No, this is a curse. Now I can't talk? Okay, not just you Tara, it's everyone. Remember the glass dropping incident in the dorm lobby?

Tara paced her room, rubbing her Doll's Eye crystal in her hand.

Think Tara, think. You're a smart woman. You lose your voice, what do you do? What do you do? Think of some options. There's got to be options. Then I can choose which op… Which. Witch. The redhead.

Tara moved to her bookshelf, digging out the directory for the dorm rooms.

I think I heard Nicole say her name was Willow… Something. Well, Willow, can't be too common a name. It's a really nice name. Stop it. Focus. Damn, surname alphabetical… Think. Was it an R? Yeah, Rosen something. R… R…

Tara flipped the pages of the directory until she found R, and followed the list down from Rose.

Rosenberg comma Willow, Stevenson, 214. Okay, time to go. We'll figure out the no touch thing later.

Tara scooped up her books and headed out, closing the door quickly behind her.

Nothing can go wrong.

_x_x_x_

This is wrong, this is so wrong!

Tara backed away from as the door she was banging on opened, and one of those things floated towards her. She could hear the chains on the straight jacket things outside, and knew she had to get away quickly.

Is that a heart in it's hand?!

She turned quickly and headed down the hall in a blind run, glancing once behind her to see of those things were inside the building yet. Then all of a sudden there was pain and she was falling. Onto someone.

Oh my goddess it's Willow. Get off her, get off, get moving!

She pulled the girl up, pushing her towards the door with one last glance behind her.

Holy god they're close!

The two slammed out of the door and took the stairs, Tara following Willow on the stairs, noting the redhead's limp.

Oh well done, you busted her ankle. Now instead of just you dying, so will she, because you knocked her down. Wait, you knocked her down. You touched her. And no vision. Is the curse gone? Is she already dead? No, her hand was warm when you touched it. And now stop thinking about her hands. Where are we headed?

Willow was ahead of her, limping her way towards a heavy door, pushing it open with her shoulder without breaking pace. Tara followed her into the room quickly, closing the door and twisting the little lock.

Oh yeah, that'll keep them out.

Tara turned back to Willow, who had her shoulder jammed up against the soda machine, and she looked like she was trying to push it.

It's not going to work, we're going to die in a laundry room!

Willow fell back and to the floor, grabbing at her ankle in pain. Tara slid to the floor next to her, looking between the girl's face and her ankle, wishing there was something she could do. It was at that moment, she realized Willow was glaring at the soda machine with enough hatred to make anyone cringe.

No wait, no hatred. Magick. It's wobbling.

The soda machine gave a faint wobble, but stayed still otherwise. Willow gave up, knocking her head back into the washing machine behind her.

Please don't give up. Goddess you're so powerful, I can feel it from here. Wait, we could try. Combine magick. I can do this.

Tara moved her hand slowly towards Willow's, and when her digits made contact, Tara breathed a sigh of relief her vision wasn't just on hold. There really was no vision. There was just interlocked fingers and deep staring into eyes going on instead. Then, with no prompt, the two witches turned their head to look at the soda machine, and to Tara's surprise, it slammed into the door, ensuring their safety. Tara looked back at Willow, the girl with no end date, and grinned.

_x_x_x_

Who knows what I'm doing anymore? Until my old laptop gets recovered I can't update the old stories because they were saved on there. :( But I have this new idea and I ran with it... at 1 in the morning. Tara has the power of foresight. Specifically the foresight of people's deaths. I'm not including Willow's death because as far as I know, Buffy goes to the future and The Madwoman runs the show, and I hear that's Willow, so, no death for her. Additional chapters will be Tara meeting the rest of the characters in the order she did in the show.

Thanks, SWC