Unlived Memories
For years, I’ve always known that I could do it. See people’s futures. It’s really easy if you’ve got the gift for it. When I look at your face, I don’t just see who you are. I can also see, if I want to, who you could be. What does it look like? Well, you get sort of fuzzy and I’m bombarded by flashes of all the possible ways your life could turn out. Yeah, you heard me right. I said all. They just keep coming. It’s like being assaulted, that’s how intense it gets sometimes.
You do get some funny stuff coming through though. I remember spotting this father-son pair walking down the street once, and I saw that in about five years’ time, the father was going to use Tipp-Ex to censor all the swear words from this bestseller he’d be buying for his son before he would let him read it. What was up with that? So I had a quick look at the son, and well, let’s just say Daddy was going to be a bit too late if he was trying to keep Junior’s innocence intact. I mean, what do you expect when the kid’s going to receive a collection of Roald Dahl’s adult fiction in a couple of months? A couple of four-letter words won’t matter after he’s read through that.
Sorry, did you say something? The point of seeing? Why, to take the futures, of course. Some of them anyway. Oh God, now you’re looking at me like I’m a horrible person. It doesn’t hurt them at all, I swear. Anyway, it doesn’t make them any less who they are if all I’m doing is taking away bits of who they might be. Chances are I’m stealing a future that they couldn’t have had anyway! There. I’ve said it. It’s theft, what I’m doing. Are you happy now? I’ll have you know that I enjoy it, whatever you might think. Makes me feel like the BFG. You know, the one who went around catching dreams and hunting nightmares. Except the dreams and nightmares I’m collecting actually happen. Not to the people I steal from, obviously. It would have happened to them if I hadn’t done anything, if not here, then in some parallel universe or other which that crazy brother of mine is always going on about. I’m sorry I can’t be any clearer on this. Thinking about it makes my head hurt more than it already does.
Why does my head hurt? Jesus. You’re a bit thick, aren’t you? I said the stuff actually happens, so figure it out. Oh for God’s sake, I’ll just tell you. It happens to me, okay? Every time I steal a future, I have to sit out the person’s life between when I took it and when it would have happened in their life. Sounds more inconvenient than it actually is. It’s like watching a film on fast-forward, except you happen to be the star of the show. I fall asleep while it happens, and how long it takes to get through things out is proportional to the amount of time I lose. A month works out to about a minute asleep, so I tend not to take futures that are further away than five years’ time, and I try to do it when I’m somewhere that I can take a nap without looking suspicious. Parks are good, in case you’re wondering.
Lately though, I’ve been doing it more often. I used to be able to flip a mental switch, to see the futures, I mean. It’s getting harder though. Now half the time, I’m seeing the futures of the people around me and it drives you mad, living this way. It actually hurts, like the futures know I’m there and they’re trying to press themselves on me, make me live them out in this world before they get shuffled out of the person’s deck of possibilities here. So I steal because the pain goes away when I’m asleep. I’m losing bits of time, more than I can account for based on what I’m stealing, and I’m remembering things that haven’t happened to me. Not in my own life. It scares me because I can’t see my own futures. I’ve tried staring into mirrors and it doesn’t work. Just as well, I guess. I’m not sure I’d like to steal what I see.
Ian Chung is a Singaporean reading English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Warwick, where he divides his time between drinking (moderately), buying and reading books (excessively), and working on his degree (sparingly). His work has appeared in Quarterly Literary Review Singapore, Angelic Dynamo, The 6S Review and Calliope Nerve, with more forthcoming in Foundling Review and escarp.
For years, I’ve always known that I could do it. See people’s futures. It’s really easy if you’ve got the gift for it. When I look at your face, I don’t just see who you are. I can also see, if I want to, who you could be. What does it look like? Well, you get sort of fuzzy and I’m bombarded by flashes of all the possible ways your life could turn out. Yeah, you heard me right. I said all. They just keep coming. It’s like being assaulted, that’s how intense it gets sometimes.
You do get some funny stuff coming through though. I remember spotting this father-son pair walking down the street once, and I saw that in about five years’ time, the father was going to use Tipp-Ex to censor all the swear words from this bestseller he’d be buying for his son before he would let him read it. What was up with that? So I had a quick look at the son, and well, let’s just say Daddy was going to be a bit too late if he was trying to keep Junior’s innocence intact. I mean, what do you expect when the kid’s going to receive a collection of Roald Dahl’s adult fiction in a couple of months? A couple of four-letter words won’t matter after he’s read through that.
Sorry, did you say something? The point of seeing? Why, to take the futures, of course. Some of them anyway. Oh God, now you’re looking at me like I’m a horrible person. It doesn’t hurt them at all, I swear. Anyway, it doesn’t make them any less who they are if all I’m doing is taking away bits of who they might be. Chances are I’m stealing a future that they couldn’t have had anyway! There. I’ve said it. It’s theft, what I’m doing. Are you happy now? I’ll have you know that I enjoy it, whatever you might think. Makes me feel like the BFG. You know, the one who went around catching dreams and hunting nightmares. Except the dreams and nightmares I’m collecting actually happen. Not to the people I steal from, obviously. It would have happened to them if I hadn’t done anything, if not here, then in some parallel universe or other which that crazy brother of mine is always going on about. I’m sorry I can’t be any clearer on this. Thinking about it makes my head hurt more than it already does.
Why does my head hurt? Jesus. You’re a bit thick, aren’t you? I said the stuff actually happens, so figure it out. Oh for God’s sake, I’ll just tell you. It happens to me, okay? Every time I steal a future, I have to sit out the person’s life between when I took it and when it would have happened in their life. Sounds more inconvenient than it actually is. It’s like watching a film on fast-forward, except you happen to be the star of the show. I fall asleep while it happens, and how long it takes to get through things out is proportional to the amount of time I lose. A month works out to about a minute asleep, so I tend not to take futures that are further away than five years’ time, and I try to do it when I’m somewhere that I can take a nap without looking suspicious. Parks are good, in case you’re wondering.
Lately though, I’ve been doing it more often. I used to be able to flip a mental switch, to see the futures, I mean. It’s getting harder though. Now half the time, I’m seeing the futures of the people around me and it drives you mad, living this way. It actually hurts, like the futures know I’m there and they’re trying to press themselves on me, make me live them out in this world before they get shuffled out of the person’s deck of possibilities here. So I steal because the pain goes away when I’m asleep. I’m losing bits of time, more than I can account for based on what I’m stealing, and I’m remembering things that haven’t happened to me. Not in my own life. It scares me because I can’t see my own futures. I’ve tried staring into mirrors and it doesn’t work. Just as well, I guess. I’m not sure I’d like to steal what I see.
Ian Chung is a Singaporean reading English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Warwick, where he divides his time between drinking (moderately), buying and reading books (excessively), and working on his degree (sparingly). His work has appeared in Quarterly Literary Review Singapore, Angelic Dynamo, The 6S Review and Calliope Nerve, with more forthcoming in Foundling Review and escarp.
