Disclaimer: People, Places and Things in this writing are purely because i'm an absolute nerd. There are references to reality, but any one individual or place or person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is copyright to Kieran Somerville. Critiques and Advice are to be held in the forums of this website.
For all the good in the world, you couldn’t pay me enough to get through math class. That’s when all of this started. Algebra class, sometime in my teenage years - I was a bit behind in my numbers so I was in the lower end class. I’d sit with my packet of instant noodles, the flavor packet opened and dusted on the raw noodles - munching and staring at the damn page.
“Lily, can you give us the answer to 2a?” The teacher obviously gets that I don’t know my shit. The teacher REALLY knows I'm so ADHD I can't even focus on the numbers in front of me - but it’s high school so who cares?
“Uhm…. 2a?” “Yes. 2a, on your exercise sheet.”
Class of 2 million years from now at this point, I'm meant to graduate by 2001 at this stage..
“You can’t be serious.” She, the teacher, was just about ready to stab me with a pencil through my right eye at this stage. We were rowdy class, but at age fifteen who gives a flying cow shit on how you’re engaging in a boring math class?
Don’t answer that one. Two of my best friends were in the normal math classes getting passing grades, and were always coming home with reasonable report cards. I just wanted to put my headphones on, listen to Blink 182, TLC and scarily - Hanson and Backstreet Boys just to get through the day. “I honestly, I don’t recall the answer ma’am. I’m sorry.” I was being honest, and the amount of anxiety building up in my facial expressions made you wonder if i’d maybe just shit my pants trying to figure out the answer.
The kid next to me was trying to figure the answer out to help me, and the kid across from me was mocking me for the pained expression on my face. Worse off, something wasn’t right - something was stirring in my brain I couldn’t control. It wasn’t a panic attack. It wasn’t an asthma attack.
“Arthur, can you help Lily understand the problem in front of her?” The teacher sighed and moved onto the next answer and picked another student. I faced the kid next to me, Arthur to the right of me and tried to understand the paper in front of me. The logic of it was giving me a headache. Yet the headache wasn’t the only thing brewing.
Things went black, things started swirling. Thunk, and I can’t feel a thing. My face hit splat on the desk in front of me, without any warning. Well, I guess I had some warning when I couldn’t form two words to explain the letter disguising the answer to the problem in front of me. I suffer from some weird “condition” that causes visions of just about everything - the doc tried to call it narcolepsy with dreams.
I also don’t even have to scuff my feet and I get shocked, not even static shock - like I’ve burned skin off just walking to a door to open it. No, the telepathic professor hasn’t even considered sending my parents an email to tell them that I could get copyrighted by Disney just for existing and get tons of royalties for it. No, nobody’s even talked to us as far as I know. We’re dirt poor, my mom’s divorced - and she’s working three jobs to pay off the damn debt my dad left us.
What’s the vision you ask? Is it a trip to see the rabbit hole, and meet Alice? Am I visiting long never visited exo-planets that let you breathe without oxygen? Not so fast Issac Asimov and Lewis Caroll, nothing ever that intelligent or brilliant. Usually it’s some oddball vision of things to come, and it’s never pretty. Future visions don’t mean I can tell YOUR future to you, just that I see general things in vague detail. Then I usually shock myself electrically half to death somehow with nothing around me and wake up in my bedroom, at mom’s place.
This time, maybe it wasn’t forward, maybe it was backward. I heard of someone in my ‘dreams’ doing some sort of timeline bunny hop - but this isn’t the same thing.