Disclaimer: No. Not Mine. Yet…
Waiting
Other than that remarkable event, Kailyn's life continued to be normal for some time. Some qualities had changed quite noticeably to her. She could run with increased speed and stamina which she passed off as a new fitness regime and joining the athletics club. Her schoolwork took less time and became more accurate, detailed and developed. As a result, she gained straight As in her GCSE exams and earned enough money in her summer job to overhaul her style. Her long, light brown hair was cropped to chin-length and dyed ebony with platinum blonde streaks, which her adopted father thought made her look like a zebra.
Over the next two years she took History, Physics, Politics and Art for AS, dropping Art for A2 and passed with A s across the board. She was a Prefect and narrowly missed out on Head Girl, but that didn't bother her. Life was good, more or less, and no one is perfect. Her dreams were haunted by the man crying in the coral-room, the invisible choir, and the drums. And after the incident with the ghosts and the flying pepper pots with lasers the sobbing became more and more frantic until she would wake in the pitch darkness and lie still listening to her hearts until she fell asleep again. She would spend long hours on the computer, chatting, watching videos, perfecting coursework and reading Fan Fiction to the small hours of the morning. But she soldiered on, nonetheless.
oOo
Kailyn, now 19 and still sporting the 'zebra bob', was just starting her gap year. With a view to majoring in Politics she applied for a place on the campaign team of Mr. Harold Saxon. She was offered a post as a part-time junior assistant and she was very efficient at it. She thought she recognised something in Mr. Saxon, akin to herself in some way. She had learned to slow her hearts right down soon after the original event, but she didn't know whether he had noticed her in the same way. She was quickly promoted to Saxon's full-time personal assistant as the election loomed and became almost able to sense his need for tea, coffee and reports. He no longer even had to ask.
oOo
As her 20th birthday drew closer, the event that the disembodied voice had spoken of occurred.
About two weeks before her birthday, right after the election, she accompanied Mr. Saxon and his wife aboard the Valiant to meet the Toclafane, in her official capacity as PA.
As the President of the USA addressed the world, the dark-haired man from her dreams sidled into the main room, followed by a tall man in a vintage greatcoat and a dark-skinned woman. Surprised, she bit her lip and willed herself to become unnoticed. Interestingly, no one else in the room had noticed them, even though they blocked their view of the speech.
Perception filter her mind told her, though how she knew that name she didn't comprehend. I can only see them because I was looking for him.
Then her thought was interrupted. The President had just been disintegrated. Her employer had surely gone mad. Avoiding the action taking place in the boardroom she manoeuvred behind part of the stairwell. To her horror, Greatcoat man was killed and survived it, the man, who Saxon referred to as Doctor, was aged a full hundred years. The lady, Martha, actually teleported away! Silently she watched as Mr. Saxon declared himself Lord and Master of Earth, and only after he had left the room for some time did she venture out.
Greatcoat had been taken away by the guards and the Doctor lay prone on the floor. Quietly she approached him, face on not to startle him, and helped him into a chair.
She received a nod of thanks and a weak smile, which was good enough for her. She whispered an apology and left swiftly to check on the Jones family. She hadn't fully understood why they'd been on board in the first place, and she thought that another friendly face would be welcome.
This seemed to help a little, but after a few minutes she was paged to go and arrange clothing and sleeping arrangements for the Saxons, the Jones' and herself.
And thus, the year of terror began.