Taming the Beast

But…I’d had enough of the damn place and needed a change. I just never really thought I’d see the day when I actually pushed aside all of my irrational fears and swept the city that never sleeps, into my past.

It was mainly because of the voices. Not the crazy ‘I do what the voices tell me to do’ kind of voices, but more like the ‘I can read your thoughts, now where’s my twenty-dollar bill?’ kind of voices.

Telepathy in any crowd of people can be tiresome, but you’ve never known a migraine until you’ve heard over two million voices screeching about the price of Starbuck’s latest holiday-themed lattes. And that’s just Brooklyn!

My shoulders slouched as I thought about my warm, lumpy mattress back home. I’d take it over any five-star hotel bed if it meant that I could pick up my headphones and blast away the deafening roar with my favorite new Shimmy Shakers album while cuddled up under the covers.

I let out another sigh and searched the darkness for a nearby light switch. It was only four o’clock back home, but in the quiet town of Bridge of Orchy, Scotland, night had settled over the small cottage I was staying in.

The quaint white cottage was drafty; I could already feel the chill from behind me. I frowned, mentally comparing the warm, inviting pictures of the town's main hotel I saw online, to the older, outdated cottage's interior. Luckily, there was a fireplace, although I had to figure out how to start it.

There was a faint creaking as I crossed the wooden floors, looking around the open room. The kitchen with its deep sink basin looked somewhat decent, and I checked the funny-looking refrigerator, thankful to see that there was a large casserole dish with a little white note on top.

I hadn't eaten since earlier so my stomach was practically growling as I flipped open the little note.

Miss Daly,

Your first bit of authentic Scottish food - please enjoy your first night's supper on us!

Yours,

The McKinleys

I smiled, the gesture making it easier to take a deep breath and really do what I came to Scotland to do—unwind. And also stay away from the male species as a whole. But mainly to unwind.

I didn’t know what needed a chance to be soothed more—my mind, or my lady parts. Working off of a seven-month dry spell, I was aching for the kind of touch I couldn’t get from myself, but knowing the exact thoughts of the man who’s doing all the touching is the quickest way to make me want to turn to celibacy. So Scotland it was.

Completely wired due to the time difference, I was just ready to pass out as the first few rays of sunlight filtered inside the cottage. I was stuffed from the delicious meat pasties the McKinleys had left me, and had finally figured out how to light the fireplace, so I shrugged my shoulders and passed out in the warm bed anyway. I'm allowed one day to catch up.

--

My first real day in Scotland was nearly a complete waste, and I realized this as I yawned, sitting up only to notice my phone's screen flashing at me. Six missed texts from Mom and nine between Desi and Colette. When my little sisters

were worried about me, that's when I knew I was being a teensy bit irresponsible about the ‘I’m alive’ call.

As I began my many apologies to Mom and my sisters, it hit me that there was something missing. Something seemed…off.

Slowly sliding out of the bed, I slipped my feet into some house slippers and grabbed for my robe hanging on a nearby hook. It took me walking around the cottage several times before it dawned on me.

I was used to getting up and being immediately bombarded by our neighbors’ sluggish morning thoughts. Raj and Amira were newlyweds with a penchant for morning sex, and unfortunately for an apartment full of psychically inclined women, that was generally the first thing we had to try and block out, among the many.

I found myself searching, trying to reach out to the nearest mind, but the cottage I was crashing in was the furthest away from the main hotel, positioned right under a vast snow-capped mountain. With no one being closer than say, a quarter of a mile or so, I was alone with my own thoughts and didn't even have to block anyone out.

A slow smile spread across my face. The whole plane ride I was filled with anxiety—what if I came all this way and still didn't get the solace I was seeking? I'd never been far enough away from New York to know if there was a limit to my reach, and now that I knew there was, hope sprung inside of me.

A circus-themed melody rang in my pocket and I pulled out my phone, only slightly disappointed for the break in silence. "Hey Mom."

"I know I promised not to call you right away this morning, but…”

"It's okay," I mused, leaning against the wall that had the least amount of pictures and knickknacks shelved together on it. "But I'm fine. Really."

"One day you'll understand, Ella baby. Being a mother to you and your sisters has me growing gray hair in areas it ought not grow."

"Ugh, gross, Mom. I can take care of myself. And I uh, realized something, too."

The light chatter in the background ceased at once. "What's that?"

"I don't hear anything. Like, at all. There's only my thoughts in my head and the occasional birds in a tree outside." My tone was light but I knew Mom could pick up on just how big this was.