"Okay dear, I'll see you soon." Lyndia Eisley spoke gently into her cell phone as she rocked in her rocking chair.

   Alike to many elderly people, Lyndia Eisley was not one for the new technologies of the world, and so it took her quite a few seconds longer than it would take a younger person for her to finally remember which button it was that turned off her cell phone.

   Lyndia was rather grateful to have such a sweet son to buy her a cell phone even when the old woman insisted she was fine using her landline. However, her son argued that using her landline was such an inefficient way to communicate with the world these days. It seemed that the world was changing and evolving by the second.

   She still remembered the days when she was just a girl watching Mickey Mouse on her father's black and white television. But then again, it had been some time since she was just a girl. Seventy something years if Lyndia was correct, but remembering things was hard these days. At this point, she simply left all the remembering up to her younger husband.

    Oh yes, while Lyndia Eisley was somewhere in her mid-eighties, her husband; Joseph Eisley had just hit age seventy-six. A number which to someone of Lyndia's age was still quite young.

   Setting her phone aside, Lyndia smiled fondly at thoughts of her husband and son. At one point, Lyndia had both a daughter and son, but her daughter, unfortunately, was taken away far too early. Lyndia still remembered her daughter ever so vividly, the way her bright brunette curls bounced as she skipped or her perfectly straight teeth that gleamed when she smiled.

   However, her daughter died at the tender age of eleven when she was hit by a car. In retrospect, Lyndia should have been more avid in teaching her how to look both ways before you crossed the street, but at the same time, no person should ever have as much to drink as the person who hit her daughter had.

   Sighing at the thought of her daughter who she still missed greatly, Lyndia slowly got up from her rocking chair, her frail frame shaking. The old woman looked as most would imagine an old lady too, greying hair, frail and sickly looking, short. Yes, that just about summed up Lyndia Eisley.

   Oh, but that was definitely not how she looked about sixty years prior. Lyndia still remembered the way her long raven hair used sway with the wind, or how when she walked she was not constantly hearing different joints popping and cracking.

   Hobbling forward, Lyndia waltzed through her small but homey house. She had lived in this house for the past thirty years and despite its small size, it had done her, her husband, and her son (when he lived with them) well. Though it was an aged house with many trinkets and photos and other junk (not that Lyndia would ever admit that it's junk) lying around, it was still perfect in Lyndia's opinion.

   With the goal of brewing a nice warm cup of tea on her mind, Lyndia began making her way to the kitchen. Her husband whom she had just been on the phone with was due to arrive in the next fifteen minutes. Their shower had broken and he ran to Home Depot to get the correct part in order to fix it.

   Lyndia made a noise of discomfort as her chest upheaved with a slight burning sensation. She had not felt her best all afternoon from her tunneling vision to her chest pains. However, Lyndia opted to ignore the feelings as she did not want to concern her husband. It seemed all he did these days was fret over her anyhow.

    Grasping the knob of her cupboard, Lyndia opened it, her eyes shining as she caught sight of the tea-bag. Reaching up, Lyndia intended to grab the tea-bag until she felt it.

   In a sudden motion, pain like Lyndia had never felt before jolted up through her left arm hitting her heart. Opening her mouth with a gasp, Lyndia's legs gave out and the old woman tumbled to the ground.

   Her wrinkly face contorted in pain, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Not only was her chest convulsing, but her right hip was no doubt broke from the fall and she definitely shattered a rib.

   Whimpering, Lyndia lay unable to move other than to stir in pain. There was no possible way she would be able to get to her phone as it was still sitting by the rocking chair and her husband was not due home for at least fifteen minutes. Of course, she could try crying for help... but with the way her throat was tightening on her it was unlikely anyone would hear.

   Lyndia knew that this was the end for her, the ending to her long life. In a burst of memory, Lyndia was able to recall just how old she was. Eighty six and three quarters, her birthday was in two months. A birthday she would not live to see.

   However, it was not only her birthday that she was able to remember but rather other things that she had sworn she forgotten long ago. Even little details that were many years old which just a few minutes prior Lyndia could have no hope in remembering were abruptly clear as day.

   Memories both long forgot and some new as yesterday swirled by her vision. It seemed her mind was on playback as she ran through every aspect of her long human life.

   Suddenly, Lyndia Eisley was not the old woman she knew herself to be in this current moment. No, she was staring back at herself in a mirror which she had not seen in a very long while; it was the mirror that used to sit on the wall of the room she grew up in. Chipping white frame wood with a clear glass that shown back nothing but what was standing right in front of it.

   And currently, that was a seventeen-year-old Lyndia Eisley. The woman no longer was hunched over with visible laugh lines, but rather a petite girl who stood tall with a face that shrieked of youth. Her hair was that midnight colored curtain that she always reminisced on with eyes that despite being such a cold color were swimming with warmth and joy.

   As if that moment were only yesterday, Lyndia reached out to touch the mirror pondering on whether or not this was real. Alas, the second her hand made contact with the glass she was no longer a teenage girl standing in front of the mirror but rather a girl laughing with her friends as they attended the drive-in movie together.

   But then she wasn't with them anymore and instead was a little girl playing with her favorite dollies. That little girl was gone in seconds replaced with a joyous and vivacious woman walking down the aisle in a pearl white gown. A stunning smile was written across her face as she took in her younger husband who watched her walk toward him with a face conveying everything that was light and good in the world. It was the day that Lyndia Clearwater became Lyndia Eisley.

   But then she wasn't walking the aisle anymore, she now was wrapped in her husband's arms with her newest engagement ring placed on her ring finger. She sobbed muttering how much she loved him, and in turn, he would whisper sweet nothings into her ear.

   Memories that went by in a flash passed over Lyndia's mind. Her husband and her kissing for the first time, her high school graduation where she proudly held up her diploma as her mother took a picture, the heartbreak she felt when her best friend died in that horrible car crash of  '54, buying her first home with her husband, the day her daughter was born only to revolve around to the day her daughter died. The stabbing pain she and husband felt for months on end, the guilt of not saving her only daughter, the tears and sight of herself kneeling before her daughter's grave while wrapped in the arms of her husband. The day that came a few years after her daughter's death; the birth of her second child, her son. Her heart swelling with hope and for the first time her soul finding peace after the death of her daughter as she looked into the eyes identical to her own. The vow she promised him, to protect him as long as she would live and ever after that.

   Her son's first steps, the happiness her and husband finally felt after five years of sorrow and depression over their daughter. Her son graduating high school and going on to college only to become an engineer. He always was a brilliant boy.

   The day her son finally married. Her daughter-in-law giving birth to a glamouring baby girl who Lyndia loved to pieces. The tears of shock and happiness when her son admitted they were naming their daughter after her.

   Holding her granddaughter for the first time, gazing into the eyes that were identical to both her son's and herself.

   With that, Lyndia's memories all seemed to swirl together as every moment from the old woman's life flashed before her very eyes. And within a second's notice, the amazing quilt of memories ended with a bang as Lyndia was staring at the memory of herself and her husband holding up their daughter as snow fell for the first time that year.

   Like that, the woman who lived until eighty six took her last gasping breath, her mind forever stuck on the image of herself, her husband, and her daughter. And for the first time, Lyndia Eisley forgave herself for the incident that resulted in her daughter's death. All she could hope was that she was waiting for her on the other side.

✸✸✸

   Lyndia Eisley.

   That was the name on the top of Torryn's head as her eyes snapped open. In a movement so fast, Torryn was sitting up with her mouth wide as she released a heart-wrenching wail that shook the house. Not only did the house shutter, but the pure velocity of her scream was heard for miles upon miles, land that ran further than Torryn's home quaking.

   This was one of the worst visions Torryn had in a while. Not that the other visions were not bad, because watching people die was never fun, but being there to witness the death of Lyndia Eisley a sweet grandmother was simply sad.

   If she had to guess, Torryn would assume that this was a vision of a future death. Looking at the clock next to her, the redhead could see the numbers "4:36 A.M." glaring at her in bright red. Based on the time it currently was, Torryn was able to predict that Lyndia Eisley would die from a heart attack by midday.

   Sniffling, Torryn sucked back the tears threatening to fall and dropped back down on her bed. She would not break now, she had been having these visions for too long. Running her hands down her face, Torryn tried to desperately keep her thoughts away from Lyndia Eisley.

As much as Torryn wanted to help, she did not even have the slightest clue on how to get in contact with this woman or her family. Not only that, but how were they going to react if some strange girl just called out of nowhere claiming Lyndia was going to die?

   Unfortunately, this only caused her mind to succumb to the inner voices in her head. The voices which whispered many things to her, but most of all the names of people were going to die.

   Torryn had voices in her head for as long as she could remember, it was a side effect of being a banshee. The voices that talked and the visions she saw along with a number of other things Torryn did not want to remember were horrible quirks that came with the "curse" as Torryn often referred to it.

   Shaking her head, Torryn leaped out from under her sheets, the girl knowing her room well enough to navigate through it despite the darkness. It was still just past four o'clock and therefore was still dark outside, but Torryn knew after that vision she was not getting any more sleep.

   Stumbling into her bathroom, Torryn flicked on the lights while hurriedly ripping through her medicine cabinets. The girl huffed in frustration at the many empty pill bottles, filing through them desperately searching for one that was not empty. At last, sitting ideally toward the very back was an orange prescription pill bottle with exactly forty Buspirone tablets.

   Buspirone was a prescription drug normally used to treat patients with extreme anxiety. For Torryn, she used this drug differently from others. Anxiety came with the voices in her head and the wails she often released after a vision, therefore she took four Buspirone tablets every day to keep away the anxiety. However, while it kept away the anxiety it also kept away the voices for the most part.

   Because the anxiety was a simple side effect of the voices in her head, oddly enough Busiporone also treated her "Banshee nature" as it seemed to shut the voices up for a short while. Not only that, but it also dulled out the visions Torryn had. Of course, it did not stop the visions fully as nearly fifty-percent of the time Torryn was awarded a vision of death as a dream, but it did drastically lessen them.

   Had Torryn not taken any Buspirone, she would be awarded several visions every day and most likely would be able to seek out visions that went beyond death. Such as certain people in the past, present, or future. Not to mention the telekinesis that would eventually come back if Torryn stopped her meds.

   When Torryn was much younger, before she went on the pills, she not only had visions but she was able to move things by just looking at them. In her early life, Torryn embraced her weirdness and learned to control it. After her mother's death when Torryn was unable to save her, this all changed. The redheaded girl practically shut down and began allowing her powers to demolish her.

   Scott Wilde watched his only daughter and the last living piece of his late wife begin to wither into madness as her own powers wrecked her from the inside out. This was when Scott decided to put her on Buspirone. He knew it was a long shot, but he was relieved when it actually worked and locked the majority of her powers away.

   At first, it was only one tablet a day, but as the days went on Torry began building a slight immunity to the drug and therefore needed more. She was already at four pills as it was and Torryn was able to feel the effects of four loosing its once strong pull, sooner rather than later she would need to bump her dosage up to five if she wanted to keep away her abilities.

   While theoretically, Torryn would be able to handle her abilities if she practiced and grew used to them, the girl was not willing to do that. Not since her mother died; she would rather ignore it and pretend she was never cursed with this nature to begin with.

    And so, Torryn poured five pills from the bottle and onto her awaiting palm before quickly downing them dry. She had been taking the medication too long to need water with it.

   This was her first time taking five in one sitting, and Torryn severely hoped that it would once again gain its strong pull and silence the voices around her.

   Torryn winced as the voices got louder, all of them screaming the names to different people whom Torryn did not recognize but knew they were all either dying, going to die, or already dead. She was just happy she didn't know any of those names because if she did she would probably end up killing herself from the stress of it all.

   Grasping the edge of the sink, Torryn leaned down heavily her red eyes looking at herself in the mirror. Oh, if anyone were to see her now they would probably be rushing her to the hospital. But then again, you can't fix something that's been shattered to oblivion.

   Closing her eyes, Torryn whined as the voices only got louder, some singing while most screamed, but all of them taunting her with names.

    Feeling her heart pounding wildly, Torryn allowed the tears to fall, her cheeks becoming stained with the tears. For a second she swore she saw all the blood of those who died, of the ones she was not able to save despite knowing they were going to die. But then it went away and was replaced with the pounding of her heart, the pure adrenaline coursing through her veins along with the medication.

  Wow was this one a kicker. What a high!

   Breathing out all the oxygen she had, Torryn wobbled before it all finally stopped. Everything came to standstill until there was nothing, no voices, no noise, just Torryn and herself.

    This time was different than all the previous instances Torryn had received a high off of. Because this time not only did the voices stop but so did everything around her, she suspected it was because this was her first time taking five pills instead of four.

    Everything she felt, wished and wanted to forget simply sank until it was nothing. Until she was nothing.

   But then it all came back as she took in another gasp of air. Wobbling, Torryn clutched her chest; her heart feeling as if it was about to explode. It took another few seconds for her heart rate to come down from the high, Torryn's eyes rolling to the back of her head in exhilaration. The voices were gone and she could barely even remember what her last vision was about.

   Lynda, Lydia, Lippy? She could not place a finger on what the name was and she did not care to find out.

   Looking back into the mirror, Torryn smiled at her own reflection unable to recognize the girl staring back at her. Call it the cowards way out, but Torryn still did not want to face her powers nor her mother's death.

   She would rather die.

   Thinking about it now, death did not sound like such a bad idea. Hopefully, it was like those few seconds of nothingness that she had been handed just a few moments prior. No voices, no stress, just silence and eternal sleep.

"Coward." Her reflection seemed to hiss with a mean snarl.

   Rubbing her hands down her face, Torryn snorted as she backed away from the sink and mirror.

"Fuck you." She muttered to her reflection only to see herself repeating the same thing while staring back. After all, it was only a reflection.

   "God, I need a drink." She mumbled, deciding that she would spend the time she could not sleep getting mindlessly drunk.

   She wasn't due to go to the Autobot base until that afternoon and by that point, Torryn suspected the alcoholic effects would wear off, but the drugs wouldn't. Sure, she wouldn't be quite as high, but the voices and other things would still be silent.

    With that thought in mind, Torryn stumbled off to find her father's alcohol stash. Jesus, she needed help, but help was something the teen was not willing to ask for.