Did you see?

After all this time, it still works… this easy road to success. I close my eyes and think about the marking scheme. I can see it, but there’s something else. I can’t fully make sense out of it. It’s almost scary, but it calms me. Darn, I lost concentration. I’d better focus on the test or I won’t finish on time. I seal my eyes shut again, and this time, only look at the answers to the test questions. And… perfect, another Aced test.

I’m Alan, an ordinary high schooler who found himself with a gift. I can see events before they unfold; the catch is I have to know a particular detail, or, in other words, an action that’s sure to happen. I’ve had this power for as long as I can remember, but if I had to point to the earliest I remember using it, it would be four years ago, when I was ten. I was thinking of my father, who was in the army. I thought about his boots and stylish beret, and not much came to mind. But the second I thought about his medals, I saw my mother wailing at the front door as two faceless soldiers presented my father’s medals on a platter. I was ten, confused. I asked my mother, “Did you see?” and I explained what I saw, thinking it was ordinary, and she shouted at me. She told me not to repeat such a thing in my life. And well, in a month… my father was dead. Fear, raw fear, strangled me. I became stiff as the events I foresaw played out to a T. The walls caved in on me. I felt as though there was a force of increasing pressure on my shoulders, and up until a while, the pressure began to ease, and at some juncture, I stopped feeling it.

The first thing I witnessed was my mother hugging me with a smile that spoke volumes, her arms around my back like she was fastening me from the dangers of the abyss. Everything suddenly started to make sense to me. I’m lucky to be my mother’s son and will do anything to keep her happy.

So after the test, I go back home to meet my mother, who’s probably getting ready to give me the biggest hug ever and praise me for my out-of-this-world result. She’s a teacher, so schoolwork is of the utmost importance to her. She always says, “Educated men are the ones who build this world- truants don’t add anything.” I walked through the door brimming with excitement to tell her how I dealt with today’s test, almost breaking the door handle with the force of my pull.

I shouted, “Mom, I’m back, the test today was super ea–“.

“Alan what is this?” She interrupts. “Tell me you weren’t the one who wrote this rubbish?” It was only then I noticed my test results in her hand. “Look at what you’re writing, it’s not even corresponding to the questions? What sort of madness came over you?”

My legs turned to spaghetti. I didn’t understand, I didn’t make a single mistake. I wrote everything according to my foresight of the marking scheme. It hadn’t once failed me.

“Why are you just staring at me, looking lost? You’ve started playing- joking with your education! Do you need a reminder on what happens when you don’t take your studies seriously?” she says.

“No, ma,” I whisper.

“Do you want to be like those irresponsible people who can’t take care of their families? Do you want to be like your father, who left us to fight one pointless war, when there are important battles here at home?” she says as she bursts into tears.

I didn’t know what to do. Mother sees me as a truant, a waste of existence. I can’t continue to live amongst useful people. How did I jeopardize everything in one afternoon? As my mother continued to rant, I couldn’t even make sense of a single word she said, it’s probably because I’m a truant who can’t understand simple English. But one word came bursting through the gibberish, ‘your father,’ and the thought came to me. My mother could leave me just like my father did.

Then a vision, clear as day, came to me like an uninvited guest. It was my mother’s death, I know I saw it, the most terrible thing I could imagine, I ran! As fast as I could, out of the house and into the streets. I don’t remember what exactly I saw, but it was horrible enough to make me ignore my mother’s call to return.

I continued running through the streets, without any destination in mind, like a prodigal son, but this one won’t be coming back home. No, this one has no home, no mother or father to confide in. Both of my parents are dead, and I must live on these streets and make my living like the other truants.

I’m starting to feel like delinquents do more than just loiter on the streets. I feel like Odysseus on a lengthy pilgrimage. My shoes are starting to give up on me and each step is getting more perilous than the last. I don’t know why I’m here or what I have to do. Why doesn’t anyone tell me? I don’t even know where this is. Maybe I should ask one of my fellow pilgrims for directions. I scan my surroundings for suspected truants like myself and spot a man walking out of an alleyway dressed in a hood, wearing black and sunshades at this time of the evening. There’s no mistaking it, this is a full-time hoodlum, a seasoned veteran of the streets. As he comes out of the alley, I can make out an object sticking out of the back of his sagging jeans. I walk towards him for a closer look at the form and it’s a gun! As you can imagine, the first thought that came to my mind was he using it and there it came again- the vision of the hood shooting at a woman on this same street.

I was startled. I couldn’t just sit back and watch when I had the power to save this woman’s life, I was the only one who could. So I rushed at the hoodlum to swipe his gun and vamoose, but as I reached for it, the gun wasn’t there. I don’t understand why! It was right there a second ago! I looked up as he pushed me away and scurried off with his sagging jeans, running faster than I thought humanly possible.

I dragged my gaze to the ground and saw blood streaming towards me. He had already done the deed. That was no vision! I had watched while it was happening. This foresight was no gift but a curse! I ran like the wind.

I can’t go on like this! No, not on these blood-stained streets. I can’t tell where I am now, future or present. So much has happened or is it ‘will happen’? Ever since I got this curse, I’ve not been living in the present, if such a thing even exists. I still wonder, the things I’ve seen, are they visions or memories? Is my mom dead? I’ve been looking at the future so much that I’ve forgotten what all these things mean. A dog’s bark disturbs my pondering. I regain awareness of my surroundings and realise I’m in front of my house. Was I pilgriming back here the whole time?

I couldn’t even lie to myself. I couldn’t say no, I didn’t want to run in and apologize to Mother. My mind couldn’t even think properly, and the next scene I saw was the entrance to my house. It was quiet until I heard “Alan, you’re finally back. I was worried sick.  Don’t ever try this again.” Bawls to the point I could hardly make up the words. I was surprised she didn’t come with a slipper to flog me senseless. She walks up to me and I start fidgeting, expecting the slap of a lifetime coming, my eyes start rambling the room looking for something to use and covering my face, I look at the table for a book and then see it. From my vision, the mark scheme was the one my mother used to mark her junior school class. My confusion reached its crescendo, have I actually been seeing the future, have these just been freak coincidences? Misplaced memories and thoughts? Nothing makes sense anymore, my head sounds like a rock band, what am I to make of this shambolic jigsaw? Help!

And then it ceases the noise, the worries, all this weight I’ve been carrying around, it’s lifted. Ah, I see she cast her spell again, my mother, her warm embrace that makes everything make sense again. After all this time, it still works…