text: The steam hit my face as I took a sip from my cup. My grandmother smiled at me sweetly. I looked down into my oolong tea and saw it again. The same thing I saw every time I drank oolong tea. If you didn't know, oolong tea has mental alertness benefits, or that's what my grandma always told me as a child. She wasn't wrong. Only, I don't think she thought I'd see a premonition when I drank the tea. I never told anyone what had happened. I was scared someone was going to throw me into a mental hospital or experiment on me in an illegal government lab. The vision I saw was like a daydream. I can't move, I never felt like I was breathing, and everything felt like it was moving at a snail's pace. The only thing I heard was a flatline. The only thing I saw was my grandmother lying in a hospital bed with 9:13 on the clock next to her. It terrified me. Seeing my grandma and hearing a flatline? No one wants to see or hear it--let alone knowing she's in perfect health and still seeing it? I had it a few times before I stopped drinking the tea altogether. This is until today. September 12th. My grandma invited me over after my classes. She wanted to bake brownies and drink tea. Catch up because I hadn't been there in a bit. I walked inside to see her sitting in her rocking chair. Her brown, leather chair with a red flannel hanging off the back. She smiled at me as she saw me. I sat my backpack down. "Ella, lovely to see you, dear," Mama Rose said. "Hi, Mama Rose," I greeted. "Come sit with me. I was looking at old pictures of your Papa, Joe." I walked over and sat by her. I hadn't noticed the photo book on her lap before now. She was on a page with six pictures on it. The top left was a picture of her and papa on their wedding day. Below it was Mama, Papa, and baby version my mother. They were sitting on the porch and my mom was distracted by something off-camera. The bottom picture on the left was Mama, Papa, and I--sitting on the same porch, and I was distracted by something to my left. On the same page on the right were Mom and me. I was much older and we sat on the porch. We were both looking at the camera. Below it was the same day, just a remade version of Mama, Papa, and I. The last picture was a picture of me next to Mom and Papa's grave. "I miss him so much," Mama said. Her wrinkled finger traced the gravestone in the picture. "How about some tea, Mama?" I asked. I got up and made a pot. "You know, your Papa loved watching baseball?" Mama called out. "He just adored you when you started playing." "I played just for him, Mama," I called out as I waited for the pot to finish. "Oh, I know, dear. I'm surprised he didn't know that." "I was horrible! He still cheered for me." "Your own personal cheerleader." I let out a laugh. The pot hissed once it was finished. I grabbed two cups from the cupboard and poured the fresh oolong tea into them. I placed Mama's sugar in one and mine in the other. I took the cups over to where we were sitting. I gave her, her glass. She took a drink and I hesitated. Mama set her cup down. "You know, Ella," Mama said. "When I drank my special oolong tea for the first time, I saw a man lying in a bed. For many years it scared me because the man was dying. I didn't know him, but I felt him die when he took in this deep breath." I gave her a confused look as she continued, "--and for many years, I didn't know who that man was." "Who was it, Mama?" I asked. "It was your Papa Joe." I was stunned. She saw Papa's death like I was seeing hers? "I'm guessing you're seeing someone else die, too?" She asked. I gave a nod. She smiled. "I'm glad I'm not the only one," she said. "Your mother never wanted to drink the tea." She let out a sigh that turned into a hum. "I should get some sleep," she said. She closed the photo book and stood up. She put the book back on the shelf. There were rows and rows of photo books. "Good night, Ella," Mama said. She walked off. "Good night, Mama," I said. I took a sip of my tea and saw it again. Mama dying in the hospital bed. I thought nothing of it and went back to my dorm. I took my nightly shower and went to bed quickly. I woke up to a disturbing call late in the night. Well, it was 1 in the morning. Mama was taken to the hospital. I quickly put clothes on and rushed there. She was already on oxygen. I looked at the time and it read 1:34. Nowhere close to 9:13. Time progressed and Mama wasn't getting any better. The day had gone by. It was 11:50 pm. I was more confused than ever and even so, she didn't die at 9:13 am or pm. Time was ticking. Mama reached her hand out to me. I took it. "I'm ready to see Joe again," she said. Tears started falling down my face. "I miss him so much, Ella," Mama told me. "Mama, stay with me," I begged her. "I'm not ready to lose you yet." "Yes, you are. I love you, Ella. I love you so much, dear." "I love you, Mama." Mama took a deep breath and the monitor let out a flatline. I started sobbing and I saw the time. 11:59. A doctor ran in and did something. I was too focused on Mama's face. A tear had slipped down her face. "Time of death," the doctor announced. "23:59, 9/13."