Chapter 1: The Knowing (1/2)

I've had a secret ever since I was young.

I could see numbers in my eyes.

I thought nothing of it when I was little.

Until I turned seven.

The numbers in my eyes decreased rapidly along with every step that I took towards the street corner in my neighborhood.

Right before they dropped to zero, I reached the corner.

I stopped.

The next second, a car whizzed past right before my eyes, just five centimeters in front of me, and slammed into a high perimeter wall on the other side.

I was unharmed.

As I watched the scene, the numbers in my eyes started to reverse and return to its closely packed state.

I grew up and I started to read. I learned how to add and subtract.

I tried to understand the numbers in my eyes.

I realized it wasn't enough.

I asked those around me if they could see the numbers in their own eyes, too.

They were convinced that I was playing around.

No one believed me so I learned to carry the secret around, a heavy weight on my stomach.

Until I learned how to multiply and divide.

A minute is sixty seconds.

An hour is sixty minutes.

A day is twenty-four hours.

A year is thirty-one million, five hundred and sixty thousand seconds.

The number in my eyes currently shows twenty-three million.

After some rough calculations, that converted to seventy-five years.

How funny. Could this be my lifespan?

I realized that there were many imperceptible influences that would change the number in my eyes.

A test, for example.

Choosing C for this question reduced ten seconds to my life.

Erasing and changing it to B gave me seven seconds back.

Disregarding the accuracy of the answers, I completed the paper in a way that caused me to lose the least seconds.

And I received a 63 for it.

Losing the shortest amount of time did not mean that the answers were correct.

I'd thought that the numbers in my eyes could help me cheat. It turns out that I had no choice but to rely on myself and study hard.

I started answering the questions seriously.

College entrance exam.

I worked seriously through the paper once, only to realize that I had lost significant seconds.

Thinking that I'd miscalculated, I checked thrice. No mistake.

Those seconds lost converted to five years.

I erased a few correct answers and the time increased.

Sacrificing good results for five years of life.

How ironic. I could only smile a bitter smile.

After much hesitation, I chose to give up five years of my life.

I secured a high score.

And a spot in the best university in the city.

On the way home, distracted by my happiness, I carelessly fell and suffered a fracture. I had to rest for three months. The time in my eyes decreased once again but this time I knew why.

I had to pay attention to the fluctuating numbers because it could change at any split second. I didn't want it to dip again.

Nevertheless, accidents happened.

”Stop. Listen to me. Don't enter this tunnel,” I shouted.

”Are you insane? Why are you such a spoilsport?” my friend snapped back, displeased.

”Stop. I'm not going in,” I said firmly.

”What is wrong with you?” My friend was furious.

He slowed the car down but it was clear that had no intention of stopping.

The numbers in my eyes were dropping.

I threw myself over to the driver's side and pulled the handbrake.

The car halted.

”Have you gone mad? What is with you?” All three of my friends glared at me.

”I'm not going in, sorry. Go on without me.” I stepped out of the car.