Disclaimer: whatever, sue me. All you'll get is an empty piggy bank, three dollars from my wallet, and a fish named Mafia...
Prologue
Flashback
"There's Dennis Rafkin," a young girl said as she crossed to the other side of the street with her friend. "He talks to ghosts..."
The downside to living in a small rural town was that gossip, both good news and bad, got around faster than the speed of light. Finally, though, after ten years, the reason for the indescribable pain that shot through his body when he made physical contact with another was determined. He knew what was 'wrong with him', but when he'd try to explain it, he was simply perceived as even crazier.
The visions and pain had only started just after his fifth birthday, and just before the death of his father, which, unfortunately, the gifted child had to witness through clairvoyance as his father embraced him for the last time. And as the visions kept coming, the pain continued to escalate.
Now, bordering on sixteen years of age, he was still as much of an outcast as ever, and missed out on a normal social life almost completely. To top it off, life at home wasn't exactly peaches as cream, either, with a mother in complete denial of his special abilities, and an abusive alcoholic of a stepfather.
On a higher note, living in a small town meant that he knew everyone, those who would accept him, or rather they just were more interested than scared, and those who believed him to be a dangerous sort of freak. Unfortunately, the people living in that rural area seemed to have their minds downsized to be in proportion with their small town...
So was the early life of Dennis Rafkin.