Annie nodded; she had known this would come up eventually. It was difficult to explain, for the most part. Her family tradition never really explained it to a grand degree, only giving a name for what they were and where they came from, and the warning that they weren't really human.
Be careful. Don't get hurt. Don't see a doctor if you can avoid it. Her time with the FBI had proven much of this to be true; she had seen a handful of cases where something or someone other was shunted off to an agent and division she had never heard from, only to disappear from paperwork entirely. She wasn't stupid; she listened to what her family said.
She sighed and pushed back slightly from the table, hands braced against the edge as she leaned back onto the vinyl booth.
"I get these... flashes, sometimes. I can't make it happen. It just does. Stuff that's been, stuff that will be or could be," she began. "Things from the past, they're more clear. Sharper. Things in the future are a little hazier, they look more like a dream. I see it all in my head," she went on, and tapped one finger against the side of her temple.
Annie bit her lip. She may as well go all in. "But there's more than that. My senses are basically on steroids. I can sort of... shut them down, when I need to. I do most of the time, honestly. It can be a lot. So much noise. So much input. It helps with the job but I have to keep it under wraps. My family... well, my mom and me... we're not... I'll just leave it as, if we ended up on an autopsy table, things would be pretty different than what the cutter might expect."