So, this is my new story that I'm trying out. This chapter is just a prologue, but it is important. If you like it I'll continue it if not... that's too damn bad! Just kidding, you opinion matters to me. So be honest in a review and tell me what you think.
Lilly stepped outside to the waves crashing against the rocks, and a heavy fog setting down. Lilly pulled her yellow coat around her tiny figure and set out against the rocks. She'd lived in this old lighthouse her whole life, and she wouldn't want it any other way. The house was old, and broken down in many places. The roof needed replacing, some of the windows needed to be fixed.
Lilly walked down the path and came to the greenish, blue ocean. She stopped for a moment and took in the salty air. She shivered and dropped the bucket she had been carrying, to put her red hair in a ponytail. She reached down, picked up the bucket and continued her way down to the water. Yasujiro was already down by the beach scooping up water.
They worked in silence together, scooping up water and placing it into the big tub. Yasujiro was a middle aged man from Japan, who lived with Lilly as long as he worked for her. He had brown eyes, and short black hair. The two barely spoke to each other, since Yasujiro barely spoke English. He tapped Lilly's shoulder and pointed to the road.
You could see headlights from a car, heading their way. Lilly frowned, for not manly people visited her little stretch land. The car was black, and had tinted windows so she could not see who was inside. It was the Sheriffs car. The car stopped in front of the house, and Lilly walked up to it. Sheriff Charles stepped out of the car and nodded once at her.
"Hello Lilly," he greeted with a grim expression. .
"Hello Sheriff, what can I do for you?" Lilly replied.
"Are you aware that your brother has recently passed?" Lilly stood there with no expression on her face. Yes, she knew her older brother had recently died; she did not need this man telling her so.
"Yes." Lilly nodded.
"I picked up a young boy. He say's he's your nephew…"
"Christopher?" Charles nodded then he opened the back door. A boy stepped out looking at his aunt. Christopher had light brown hair, and deep hazel eyes, with small bucked teeth.
"Hi Aunt Lilly," Christopher whispered.
"I picked him up by the train station," Charles told her. Lilly nodded once and kept her eyes on Christopher.
"Thank you Sheriff," Lilly looked up at Charles.
"Have a nice day Lilly," Charles got back into the car and drove off.
"Go inside Christopher." Lilly spoke to the boy. Christopher nodded and made his way into the old house. He did not want to come live with his Aunt, but he had no choice. Three weeks ago, both his mother and father died in a plane crash. With no living family left, he was sent into Lilly's care.
Christopher jumped as the door slammed shut after him. He'd only been to his father's childhood home once, and he had only been about four. Christopher was what you would call a jumpy child. He was scared of just about everything, and hated dark, gloomy places. Funny since this old house was now his new home. Yasujiro stepped out of the hall making Christopher stop in his tracks.
"Who you?" Christopher stood silent and still.
"This is my nephew Christopher; he will be living with us." Lilly came out of nowhere like a ghost. Yasujiro nodded, wiped his hands on a rag and turned back outside. "Follow me," Lilly walked past Christopher and up a set of rickety old stairs. Christopher reluctantly followed his aunt up the stairs, into a small room.
"It isn't much but it's all you got, come down in a few minutes." Lilly left the room and shut the door. The room was wooden, with a small, rotted rug lying against the floorboards. Christopher set his backpack on the wooden bed and put its contents onto the bed. His other belongings would be arriving later, but until then. This was all he had, that was from home.
He took out a hair brush, a few pairs of clothing, a book and a picture of his parents. A loud bang made Christopher jump up; he made his way to the window and looked down. Yasujiro was moving away into the bay in a motorboat. Even though he now lived in Santa Barbara, it was oddly cold, and foggy.
Shawn walked down the porch steps of his father's house and walked out of the yard. Yet another small thing, led to a huge argument, with Shawn storming out of the house. Everything had been off since he had broken up with Juliet O'Hara. His father was upset at the easiest things; Gus was working at his other job a lot more, and they barely got any cases.
Shawn would never admit it, but he was barely getting by. He had to cut down on his TV watching, fast food, and gas for his motorcycle. If he could walk to wherever he needed to go, he did. He of course had been in a similar situation before, when he was travelling around the world. He's had to sleep under bridges before and in alleys. At least he had a house this time. So when Shawn walked into the Psych office he was surprised to see a woman standing in the lobby.
"Can I help you?" the woman whisked around. She long red hair, brown eyes, and a scowl on her face.
"Are you the psychic?" she asked.
"Yes," Shawn nodded.
"I need your assistance," she walked into the main office.
"With?" Shawn followed her.
"My nephew," the woman watched Shawn carefully.
"What's wrong with him?"
"He claims to hear voices, and sees things." The woman shrugged like it was no big deal.
"What kind of things?" Shawn moved over to his desk.
"Dead people," Shawn froze and looked at the woman. She had to be joking. It was impossible to see ghosts, he would know, seeing how he was a fake psychic.
"And you are?"
"Lilly," Lilly looked out the window.
"I've never seen you before," Shawn stood in front of her.
"I don't get out much. Can you help my nephew or what?" Lilly asked.
"Good, come with me." Lilly walked outside and led Shawn to an old car, which was rusted. "I wouldn't take your own vehicle; you don't know the road like I do. So get in," Lilly started the car and Shawn stepped in. He was squashed in the seat, since it was made for a short person. Lilly said nothing the whole drive up to her little light house.
Once they arrived, Lilly parked in the driveway and stepped out. Shawn followed her outside, and onto the broken down porch. "Christopher!" Lilly shouted entering the house. Shawn heard rattling and footsteps coming from above. A boy around the age of eight slowly walked down the steps.
"Talk to him Psychic," Lilly turned around and marched out of the room.
"You're a Psychic?" Christopher whispered. Shawn turned his attention to the boy and slowly walked over to Christopher.
"Yeah," Shawn nodded.
"So you believe me?" Christopher looked up with hope in his eyes.
"Yes. Would you like to take a walk Christopher?" Christopher nodded eagerly. Shawn and Christopher exited the house and walked down to the water. "You like living here?" Shawn found it awfully dark, and Christopher seemed like a bright, happy kid.
"I'm only here because my parent's died," Christopher picked up a rock and threw it into the water.
"What happened?" Shawn moved over and sat next to Christopher.
"They were on a plane, it caught on fire and it crashed." Shawn closed his eyes. He recalled Gus talking about it; they thought the engine exploded midair.
"I'm sorry," Christopher looked at Shawn; he had a glint in his eyes.
"No you aren't. They all say they're sorry, but they aren't." Christopher dropped the handful of rocks.
"I almost lost my dad a few months back," Christopher sat next to Shawn.
"You did? What happened?"
Shawn sighed, "He was shot." Shawn remembered walking into the police station when it hit him. He'd rushed down to the beach, only to find his dad on the ground. "I found him; he'd lost a lot of blood."
"But he's okay?"
"Yes," Shawn observed Christopher. The young boy was in a stripped red and white t-shirt. He had a fairly brand new jean jacket over his shirt. Jeans and a nice pair of sneakers on his feet. Shawn himself was in his leather jackets, jeans and a simple black t-shirt.
"My name is Shawn Spencer; I'm Santa Barbara's head Psychic." Shawn held out a hand.
"I'm Christopher Hearting." Shawn frowned.
"Hearting? Was your dad Joseph Hearting?"
"You know him?" Christopher nodded.
"I've heard of him," Joseph Hearting was a very rich man in Santa Barbara. He owned a chain of Electronic stores that did extremely well. Shawn was puzzled as to why this kid, was living in a place like this. "What do the voices say Christopher?"
"Not much," Christopher looked away.
"You can tell me, I won't tell anyone else. I promise," Shawn leaned back on his arm.
"They just say… they say that something is going to happen. They're telling me to be careful." Christopher glanced at Shawn. "You think I'm crazy, huh?"
"No, I think you have a gift." Shawn smiled.
"Mhm, but Christopher… Can I call you Chris?" the boy nodded, "If these voices ever tell you to do something that would you hurt you or anyone else, tell someone. Here…" Shawn sat up and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out one of the Psych business card and wrote his personal phone number on it. "If you ever want or need to talk. Call me," Shawn handed the card to Chris who nodded.
"Thank you Mister Spencer," Chris let out a small smile.
"No problem kid."