#freak2fr

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My four-year-old daughter Mia had this creepy habit of staring at empty corners and whispering "thank you" to nobody.

I thought she was just being weird until last Monday when she grabbed my arm during breakfast and said, "Mommy, the dead lady says there's a bomb in daddy's building."

My husband works downtown in a 40-story office building. I nearly choked on my coffee.

"What dead lady, Mia?"

"The one with no face. She's standing right there," Mia pointed to the empty corner by our fridge. "She says the bad man put a big boom-boom in daddy's work and everyone will get hurt at lunch time."

I stared at the empty corner. Nothing there.

"Mia, that's not funny."

"She's not trying to be funny, Mommy. She's crying because she couldn't save people when she was alive, but now she can."

My skin crawled. Mia had never talked about death or bombs before.

But something in her voice made me call Jake.

"This is going to sound insane, but Mia says there's a bomb in your building. Maybe you should leave early today?"

Jake laughed. "Honey, she's four. She probably saw something on TV."

At 11:47 AM, Jake's building was evacuated.

Someone had called in a bomb threat.

At 12:15 PM, during what would have been lunch hour, the bomb squad found an explosive device in the parking garage.

It was set to detonate at exactly 12:30 PM.

Jake came home white as a sheet.

"How did she know?" he whispered.

That night, Mia was playing with her dolls when she suddenly stopped and looked at the same corner.

"The dead lady says thank you for listening. But now she has to tell us about the school bus."

"What about the school bus?"

"Tomorrow, the driver will be very sleepy and the bus will crash into the big tree. Seven kids will go to heaven."

I didn't sleep that night.

The next morning, I called Mia's school and told them I was keeping her home sick.

Then I called the transportation department.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I'm concerned about bus safety today. Could you maybe have drivers take extra breaks or switch routes?"

The woman thought I was nuts, but she said she'd pass along the message.

At 2:47 PM, Bus 47 crashed into an oak tree on Elm Street.

The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel.

But because of my call, they'd switched drivers that morning. The new driver was more alert and managed to swerve at the last second.

Instead of seven deaths, there were only minor injuries.

That evening, the news interviewed the transportation supervisor.

"We received an anonymous tip about driver fatigue," she said. "It saved lives."

When I got home, Mia was standing in the corner, nodding at something I couldn't see.

"The dead lady is happy," Mia announced. "But she says more people are coming to talk to me now."

"More dead people?"

"Lots more. They all have warnings."

That night, Mia woke up screaming.

"Mommy! The man with the burned face says the airplane is going to fall down! Flight 447 at 3 o'clock!"

I grabbed my phone and called the FBI tip line.

"My daughter... she's been predicting disasters. She says Flight 447 will crash at 3 PM."

They took down my information, probably thinking I was insane.

But at 2:45 PM, Flight 447 was grounded for emergency mechanical inspection.

They found a critical engine failure that would have caused a crash during takeoff.

All 312 passengers were safe.

The FBI showed up at my house that evening.

"Ma'am, we need to talk."