TRIGGER WARNING: this story contains references to violence. Please do not read this post if you are sensitive to such issues.
I checked my timer in disbelief. 20 minutes, 37 seconds. Shortest reading ever.
The bride-to-be had left the money on the table and the chair skewed at an awkward angle, when she got up and literally ran from me. She’d paid for the full 1-hour reading, but apparently what she heard in the first 20 minutes was too much to handle.
* * *
Her first e-mail was friendly enough.
“My name is Jolie. I was recommended by Mandy. I’d love to see you today.”
– I have a slot at 4 pm, but same-day bookings are charged double, and all bookings must be pre-paid. Is this urgent?
“Yes, you could say it’s urgent. But no worries regarding the price, Kelly! Mandy said you’re worth every penny! See you soon.”
Jolie turned up on the dot, a beautiful and exquisitely dressed young lady. She had a face I could vaguely recognise and, after a short chat, realised I’d probably seen in glossy magazines like Tatler. She was a young socialite from one of the country’s wealthiest families, and hers was fast becoming a household name.
But money can’t buy happiness. Even as Jolie placed her Birkin handbag on the seat beside her, the anguish permeating her entire aura had already reached out and hit me across the table. My eyes were also drawn to the tiny hearing aid on her left ear that she’d skilfully hidden with her long, honey brown curls.
“Thanks for seeing me at such short notice. I have a temporary hearing problem in my left ear from a recent skiing accident, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask you to speak up sometimes,” Jolie said brightly as she arranged her hair to cover her ear and neck.
The Tarot deck I was shuffling fell apart as she spoke. Five cards shot out and lay face down on a haphazard track across the table.
I turned them over.
Ace of Wands. Five of Swords. The Tower. The Devil. Death.
I put the cards aside for later reference.
“I’m getting married next weekend and I just want to ask questions about, you know, married life and all,” Jolie continued with a smile as her fingers ran through her hair, unaware that the Tarot had already begun calling her out on her lies and self-deception.
I smiled back, saddened at the sight of this broken spirit, desperately pretending that her life was going well because the alternative – the truth – was too terrifying for her to bear.
I decided on a gentler approach: the Angel Oracle deck.
– Here, Jolie. Take a deep breath, concentrate on your question, and pull out three cards.
Jolie’s smile disappeared once she saw the three cards her guardian angel had helped her to choose.
Be Honest With Yourself. Time To Go. Not For You.
It was time to tell the truth and set Jolie free.
– Jolie, your angels are concerned that you’re not being truthful to yourself about what you want in a life partner. They’re saying that you have the choice not to go ahead with this wedding. Your time with this person has come to an end, and it’s time to move on. This marriage is not meant for you, and will not benefit you.
She raised her eyebrows and laughed in disbelief, her eyes filled with resentment and fear. “What do you mean? I’m not backing out now! Do you know who he is?” She gave me the name of a young heir from a wealthy and well-connected family, a triumphant sneer on her elegant face. “He’s a good catch, Kelly!”
I took a deep breath, and exhaled.
– No man is a good catch if he hits you.
Jolie froze. She stared at me blankly, her mouth agape, her fingers still in her tresses. I glimpsed a faint outline of bruises below her left ear.
No turning back now. I laid out the five Tarot cards that I’d put aside earlier.
– Ace of Rods: when he loses his temper, he hits you with whatever is at hand… golf clubs, umbrellas, ski poles. Five of Swords: you’re silent because you fear public humiliation. The Tower: this card tells me he’s not only hit you, he’s pushed you down the stairs before. He’s trying to kill you. The Devil: this man has major issues and needs professional help. Death: if you stay, your husband-to-be will destroy you both. Jolie, are you sure you want to go ahead with the wedding?
I glanced up from the cards. Jolie was pale as a ghost, and trembling like a leaf.
I kept quiet and gazed down again at the cards before me. My heart bled for Jolie, but only she could decide what to do.
The sound of a purse being zipped open noisily stirred me out of my reverie. Jolie’s hands were shaking as she pulled a wad of hundred-dollar bills out of her Chanel purse.
“Thanks for the reading, I have to go, here’s a tip, bye… ” Jolie mumbled robotically, refusing to look me in the eye. She placed the money on the table, then got up.
Her teary, terrified eyes finally met mine.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered shakily.
Then Jolie turned and ran, in her cute Jimmy Choos.
I glanced at my timer. 20 minutes, 37 seconds. A short reading for me, but a long and painful road ahead for Jolie unless she changes track.
I haven’t heard from Jolie since. I hope she’s okay.
* * * * *
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The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.