(A/N:  I created this digital art of Keilar recently. I've put it on my cover now, but this is the original. I've removed her eyes so that no one copies her.)

Keilar looked out of the window in her hotel room. She just checked in, and had already packed her bag for her flight tomorrow. She glanced at the Eiffel tower that was about two blocks away from the three-storey hotel window room. She needed to get pictures of it before she boarded her flight to Britain to give them to her boss, and to get some cash. So she grabbed her state-of-the-art camera, slung her satchel on one shoulder, and rushed out of the hotel room to the reception.

*

The girl was now drinking a soda can, which she got from a French vending machine by sacrificing a few quarters, and chugged the icy drink down as she walked. Keilar was wearing a peach coloured woolen scarf, a pink and blue shirt and a checkered brown skirt, under which were black leggings with black running shoes. She wore cheap one-dollar blue crystal earrings, with the crystals fake, obviously. Her cloud-blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she clutched the camera in her hand.

She got to the Eiffel Tower. She got photos of the tower, inside the tower, on top of the tower, basically the tower. After that, she clicked some photos of the surroundings, and headed to the other monuments in Paris. Two hours later, she got more images on the Louvre museum, the cathedral, and a nearby church. Lastly, she got to the Pont Alexandre III, what she heard was a famous bridge across the Seine, with ornate lanterns hanging from both sides.

Still plenty of time for my flight, I'll just waste my time here." thought Keilar. She clicked a few more photos, before running to the nearest outdoor café, and getting a table for herself. "May I get a croissant and some cheese pie?" she told the waiter, translating it into French. The waiter understood, and went away with the order.

Keilar was fluent in all languages. People called her extraordinary for that, but she didn't boast it. Rarely do they find out; on a few occasions when she had her partner watching her speak a completely different language at random, and understanding it too. She was also an artist at voice mimicry. But no one knew about that. She only did it in pranks to unsettle people, to pretend as someone, or as a disguise. That explained how the waiter understood her perfectly, as if she too were a French person too.

Five minutes later, a steaming hot pie and a mouth-watering chocolate filled croissant was at her plate. She ate neatly and quickly, and generously tipped the waiter. The waiter smiled with joy, and went to another table.

Little did the waiter know, Keilar had pick-pocketed a few euros out of the waiter's trousers, but the euros she gave him was much more than the euros she stole, so that would balance it. She smiled with glee, and organized all her pictures nicely in a file. She stuck a name sticker on it: Hi, my name is Paris, by Keilar Olivia. She didn't even realize what the time was until she looked up and saw that 30 minutes had passed already.

She neatly kept her file in her satchel, slung the camera bag around her neck, and walked across the bridge. 'Maybe I'll go to the nearest motel and eat dinner before the flight, its three hours later anyways,' thought Keilar.

But then she felt something as she passed a certain spot.

Something from the direction behind her.

And she could feel something else too...

...Pain.

*

Keilar had been able to feel another's feelings since she was ten. This had happened when she was ten, the day after she was humiliated by her own teacher for not scoring passing marks in a grade she thinks is stupid. I mean, why grade or rank someone if they don't know the tables till thirty-eight, or didn't know the root of six?

When the teacher scolded her, she was insensitive to her. But what she felt from all the students was: laughter. Laughter that was strong enough to make her run out of her classroom, laughing hysterically due to the emotional overload and humiliation. It was her mightiest fear, humiliation.

She obviously couldn't tell anybody about it because nobody in the right mind would believe her. She had no parents, no loved ones. She had one friend, but that person disappeared from her life soon after finding out about her powers. Keilar, at her small age of ten, could only conclude one thing. She had power.

Bad power.

Power that made people run from her, scared.

So she hid it. It became bearable later on; she could sort out her emotions from the others', although the detecting never went weaker. No problem. She'd try putting her mind off things, playing funny but harmless pranks on bullies, to pranks that made the principal the laughing stock of Britain. She'd always get away, and the Police would scramble everywhere, trying to find her. But once, a harmless prank got out of control and... She was kicked out. From the school and her orphanage. But...that's her past. Focus on the future.

*

Keilar turned around. The emotions hit her like a truck; Pain, Anguish, Fear, Anger, and confusion. Someone. But there was no one there.

All she heard was the wind and a slight distortion in the air, like heat waves radiating off the ground. Which was strange, as there was no wind in the air. It was something. Something she couldn't see.

But feel.

She closed her eyes and felt on the point of focus by her senses. She concentrated, to hear something, even a shuffle, so that she could convince herself that she wasn't crazy.

Then she heard it.

Voices.

Coming from the exact same spot the emotions were radiating from.