Disclaimer:
I DO NOT OWN ROSE RED, ITS CHARACTERS OR ITS STORY. I ONLY OWN MY OWN PEOPLE, PLACES AND THINGS.

Author's Side Note:
This is the rewritten story of 'Only Fool Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tred'. Please read and, if you like the story, review. Thank you.


~}{ Birds of a Feather }{~

Prologue

Psychic

This term comes from the Greek psȳchikós – meaning of the soul, spirit or mind. It is an adjective that has six letters, two syllables and was first recorded in 1895 though psychic phenomenas have been observed much longer than this. It has several meanings. The dictionary definition is, "...relating to or denoting faculties or phenomena apparently inexplicable by natural laws, especially involving a person who claims to have an ability to perceive information hidden from the normal senses through extrasensory perception (ESP), or who is said by others to have such abilities as telepathy, clairvoyance or psychokinesis."

Being psychic means having the ability of mind to influence the world. Some influence it mentally, emotionally or even physically. Psychics are like snowflakes: no two are exactly alike. The same can be said for their gifts. No two alike. There are many different types and many different subcategories within each type. The main types of psychics are telepaths, cognitives, clairvoyants, and psychokinetics. Most people, including some psychics, don't know this.

So how do I?

Well, I am one of three children who were born to, not one, but two psychic parents. My mother is a medium. She can communicate and see spirits as though they were physically still among us. My father is a precognitive. He can see the future from mere seconds before to decades. Each of them has come from a very long line of psychics. It runs deep in my family roots and the further down you go, the more powerful the abilities were. As the tree grew and the branches spread, the abilities began to wane. Along these branches are the youngest generation that consists of my cousins, my brothers and me. Only one leaf on those branches carries someone in the family that has no gift. The family believed, that with her birth, came the end of the psychic bloodline. My parents believed otherwise.

"Psychic power may lie dormant for generations, but it never truly disappears."

That's what they always said and sure enough, it was true. For on another branch now lays leaf whose power outmatches anything the family has seen before.

This descendant is me.