The man sits in the same booth. He orders the same food. Who is this man, his waitress wonders as she brings him his usual. Why is he here everyday, at the same exact time? He always stares at the same booth too, which is always empty. Like he’s waiting for someone. She shivers. “Best to mind my own business, Claire”, she tells herself.
“Would you like some coffee today sir?”, Claire asks the man even though everyday he says no.
“No thank you, maybe tomorrow. Say, has anyone come in here today with short brown hair, and a blue handbag?” He asks her.
Shocked the he had said more than usual, she replies, “Yes, she was in her only about three hours ago, heading off to school. Is there anything else I can get you?” She looks at his eyes right in time to see a flash of dark anger before he puts back on his mask of friendliness.
“No I’m afraid not. I have some business to attend to. Thank you anyway. How much do I owe you?” He asks.
“ Nine fifty-seven” Claire says. He hands her a twenty.
“Keep the change” With that said, he gets up and leaves. Claire shakes her head, and rushes over to seat an elderly couple who looked opulent. “Hi my name is Claire and I will be your waitress for today……....”

He walks down the street. Past the business’s with flashing advertisements, past the park where he used to sit, and finally onto the street where the girl lives. He could feel the jubilation as he thought about the job he was supposed to do, and how it was supposed to turn out. The girl that was in his vision. He can smell her old scent. She was here about four hours ago. Must be in school. He looked up at the cheerful house; it was two stories with about four windows in the front. It was creamy in color, and resembled a square, but it had a homey sense to it. Her parents home looked very mundane to him. It made him envious. He wanted her life, but that was not why he was here. He already had a mission, and he had to finish it. He walks up the walkway, with all its flowers lining up on both sides, to the house.
With each step her scent is stronger. Pulling him like the moon pulls the waves. He peeks through the first window and is pleased to see and smell that no one is inside the house. Cautious at first, but with growing confidence he slides up the window, and eases himself onto the wooden floor. With a quick glance around, he realizes he is in the living room. He scuttles through the room, past the kitchen, up the stairs, and into her room. The scent is strong. Too strong. Either there was something wrong with him, or she had just been in her only minutes ago. Can’t be, he thought, in my vision she was at school…Confused for the first time since he can remember, he sits on her pretty pink and purple bed spread, which matched her room. His mission was to wait in hiding till she came back from school, grab her and deliver her safely to her captors. That was when he heard the noise from behind him.

“Hands up where I can see them! Now!! Do it!!” A strange yet familiar voice yelled. He did as was said, and turned to face the feminine voice. It was her! She was pointing a wavering gun at his face, and shaking in fright. She was holding an antique colt western gun. Probably her father’s. He lowered his hands.
“I know your secret. You’re clairvoyant. Just like me.” He said. Then he lied. ”I’m here to help you.”
She gasped, and almost dropped the gun. He continued,” That’s how you knew I would be here today, the only problem is, is that you expected me to be a robber, or something, not someone just like you.”
He wondered if he should give her some adulation, but thought it would be overboard.
Her voice was arid as she replied. “Listen you piece of garbage, you know nothing. You and me? We’re nothing alike. Your kind and my kind don’t collaborate. Your kind is deleterious.” She paused for breath while looking at him with disdain. “We are incompatible. Know I want you to get your surreptitious butt out of my house, and stay out!” By now she was steaming with rage, it seemed to pour out of her like a fire that’s out of control. That was when he grabbed her pillow and threw it at her. He jumped out of the barking guns line of fire and threw himself to the floor. But she was resilient, and fast too. She had already foreseen what he would do. She ducked from the pillow, and pulled the rigger, but missed. She scrambled out of her room, and into the bathroom where she locked the door. He was wary as he picked himself off from the floor. He could hear her slam the door of the bathroom, and slide the lock in. He thought it would be a good to break a window and make it sound as if he had made a run for it. But he knew she was too prudent to fall for that.
“So, did I hit you?” She nonchalantly asked. Her voice sounded parched. Maybe she was still pissed about what he said, or the fact that he had tried to suppress her from shooting him. He went up to the bathroom door, and closed his eyes to try to see what see will try to do. He see’s her shooting him, killing him instantly.
“No,” He said with his eyes closed, still watching his death take hold in front of him. “I was hired, you know, to kidnap you. To kidnap a Seven-teen year old. Can you believe it? Well, I can see the future, so I do the job well. I have never lost a job. if I say so myself, I am pretty precocious.”
“ Well did you know you are about to lose one?” She asked. He sighed. “Yea, I can pretty much see it.”
He was getting querulous. He would not give up. She could see herself killing him, but she didn’t know how to get there.
There was something wrong with him. He can feel it. His head hurt like never before, and his eyesight was flickering on and off. He stumbled away from the door, and around the corner. He slipped and fell down the stairs. He had an intuitive feeling to get up and run. Only he couldn’t move. He moaned and rolled over. That was when he say the blood, pouring out of him. He could see his life flowing away with every drop. He shuddered and looked up when he heard the door open. This wasn’t my vision. This isn’t how it was supposed to turn out. He looked up at her as she arrived at the head of the stairs. He tried to crawl up to her, kill her somehow. He only managed to reach his hand up slowly. She starts to cry.
She raised the gun. This isn’t how it was supposed to end. She put her finger on the trigger. This isn’t how it was supposed to end. She pulled the trigger. This isn’t how it was supp-.