I’ve saved them all. Every last one of them, and now I’m being condemned.

They were all going to die. Slow, painful deaths. I’ve always been able to predict these things before they happen. I have a gift. It’s why I pursued the job I have now. As a fortune teller, not many people trust me. They’re almost all skeptical. Until what I tell them inevitably comes true. I’ve always wished I were able to be there to witness it, the moment where they realize that I was right. That’s true, of course, for every group who’s visited me but one.

They came to my tent two weeks ago. They were young, likely in their mid-twenties. None of them took me seriously. Some pretend that they don’t believe, though I can tell through the curiosity in their eyes and the stiffness in their mannerisms that a small part of them is telling them that I’m the real deal. Not these folk. I was a complete joke to them. Well, who’s laughing now.

When I looked into my beloved crystal ball the images barreled through my head like a train gone off the rails. Fire. Screaming. Cries for help. Burning flesh and bare bones. I leaped out of my seat. “Go.” I warned them. “You are in grave danger. Leave, and take your poisoned energy with you.”

They laughed and stood up from their seats. “Did you hear that? Something’s out to get us!” One of them said, laughing at her friend and patting him on the shoulder. Fury boiled my blood at her words. She would pay for not taking me seriously!

Though as the night went on the guilt began to eat away at me. I’m not a monster, I couldn’t just let them go, knowing what I was letting them walk into. I had to save them from their own fate. So that’s exactly what I did.

It wasn’t hard, following their car home that night. The house in which they lived together was a mere fifteen minutes from the fair. What did turn out to be difficult was figuring out a way to pull it off. I’ve done a handful of questionable things in my time, but not to this extent. Though with some research, a knife from my kitchen, and a side door to their house the group constantly forgot to lock, I was able to make my way inside. They went quickly, and they weren’t found until the afternoon the next day. Unfortunately, I’m not as good at convering my tracks.

Now I’m sitting in a prison cell, left with nothing but my own rage. I did them a favour, really. Without me, their fate would’ve been so much worse. They should be thanking me, not locking me away. My intentions were good, and I will stand by that until the day I die.