I was twenty years old, and I walked along the same sandy shoreline I'd visited since I was five years old. Myrtle Beach, South Carolina held a special place in my heart. It was the break from trivial, everyday life. It was getting to visit new spots that I'd never been to before while embracing the boardwalk stores that never changed.

Today, I hunted for seashells and shark teeth. Typically, this would be something my sister joined me in but she was lost in a book. With a zip-lock bag in hand, I walked down the coast. People buzzed everywhere, from kids building sandcastles to groups of friends playing volleyball. It was one of the busier times of the year.

I strolled along for about an hour before I realized I was near the boardwalk. Normally, this would be the time that I turn and head back in the opposite direction, but something caught my eye. It was a tiny building wedged between two t-shirt stores. "Readings By Kim" were in plain, white lettering right next to a crudely painted crystal ball. I was intrigued. Call me naive or call me stupid, but having a reading done was on my bucket list. Now seemed as good of a time to have it done as any other.

I made my way toward the door and when I stepped inside it looked like the typical setup. The room smelled strongly of incense and the lights were dim. It took a couple of minutes for my eyes to adjust. Tapestries with suns, moons, and constellations alike were draped everywhere. Trinkets ranging from little golden statues to giant crystals littered shelves while long, ivy-like plants hung from the ceiling.

"Hello?" I called out, not seeing or hearing a soul.
Nothing. It was quiet. I could only hear my feet on the wooden floor and my own breathing.
"Hello?" I repeated a little louder, my eyes scanning the room.

I should have left. I should have taken that as my cue to leave, but I walked down this woman's makeshift hallway of tapestries. I saw a dead end. There was no way I would get anywhere else until I noticed the corner of one tapestry was pulled back. Not enough to see what was behind it, but enough to know that something was there. I pulled it back slowly, and there at a tiny table sat an older woman.

"Have a seat, child," she said with a smile while her hand motioned toward the seat across from her.

She matched her shop. She matched any psychic I'd ever seen in a movie. Her gray hair was long. Rings adorned each of her fingers while she wore a deep purple dress to match her lipstick. What struck me the most about her, though, were her eyes. Those were something I'd never forget. They were a striking emerald color, in the dim setting they seemed to be the only thing that brightened up the room.

"Maura, is it?"
My stomach dropped. Kim just smiled at me and motioned me over.
"Don't be afraid, Maura," she said, her tone soothing. "The spirits let me know when important people are visiting."

I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask her how she knew my name, or why a "spirit" would consider me important but the words wouldn't come out. Kim just smiled at me. Her emerald eyes stared into mine while her red lips curled into a smile that mildly unsettled me.

Kim stood up from her chair and made her way over to me. She was about my height, maybe an inch or so taller. She reached out and grabbed my hand to engulf it in both of hers.

"No need to sit, I'm comfortable to do readings standing up, too."
"I only have 20 dollars," I managed to get out.
Kim shook her head, "You're a special case, darling. Don't worry."

She flipped my hand over so the palm was facing up. Her fingertip traced the lines in my hands, her face twisted into a focused expression.
"You're a timid one," she said. "You have an older sister, Della. She's adventurous and you envy that about her."
"I wouldn't say envy I-"
"I would," Kim interrupted. "You want to take chances like she does. You want to be able to throw caution to the wind and live your life, but you like being safe. You like being reserved, and, child, that needs to change. You're going to be miserable."

I pulled my hand back from her and Kim looked up at me again.

"I don't always see a clear, distinct, picture of the future," she said with her hands clasped together. "Behind you is a calendar. It says July 15th, 2018. You're sitting in your apartment writing something down with a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to you. You look older than you're supposed to. You-"
I ran. Before another word could leave Kim's mouth I ran. Down the steps, back onto the beach, and into the familiarity that was a crowd. A crowd whose loudness was supposed to drown out my thoughts and make me think that reading was a chance. But it didn't. It didn't just become a chance.

Because I'm sitting in my apartment right now writing down everything I can remember from that day. I'm thirty years old and I go to a job that's stable, but I can't stand it. I should have been promoted years ago, but everybody else seems to beat me out for numerous reasons. At family gatherings, my sister owns the room with her stories of traveling and living an exciting life. Unfinished pieces of artwork are collecting in my living room because I have no motivation. My boyfriend left me for another woman. My friends are married or having children.

And all I can wonder is how? How did I end up being so miserable when I did everything that was expected of me? I stayed in college and got my degree. I moved onto a job that would secure me for the rest of my life. I did what I was supposed to. I went by the book.

I've come home every night for the past couple of weeks losing sleep over these questions before I thought back to Kim. Even then, I did exactly what I should have done but I didn't really want to.

I ran. I ran from anything remotely scary. That trait stuck with me. I could have gone to school for art, but I went for business. I could have moved to California, but I stayed close to home. I could have stuck up for myself at work and climbed the ladder, but I sat back and signed congratulation cards for people that got my spot. I could be living a life happy somewhere else! Anywhere else! I could be waking up every morning excited to tackle the day, but I'm not. I did what I was expected to do, not what I wanted to do.

Because of that, I'll stay up until 6 A.M. wondering what I can do to turn my life around. Because of that, I'll have another dream about walking down those tapestry halls where I'll see Kim again and I'll listen to everything she has to tell me. I don't run, I listen intently and take her words as a lesson instead of twisting them into fear tactics.

It's July 15th, 2018.