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There's no rest for the weary... A good way for me to relax? Well, there is none really. My body may be able to, but my mind is constantly working. Constantly seeing. Constantly thinking. So much data, so much information, that my head hurts. My ears are ringing half the time, my eyes swollen and red. The price to see everything. The rush of information is too much to handle—one would need a staggering intellect, reaction time, and pure willpower in order to decipher and wield it. The thing is, I didn't ask for this curse. I didn't ask to see everything, everyone. I never wanted this sort of life.
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I amble along the street, my long hair overshadowing my constantly shifting eyes. It's always like this. I'm always aware of everything. The man next to me will stumble on the curb in exactly five minutes. The baby in the stroller a ways ahead of me will start crying for its bottle in 38 seconds. The man in the alleyway behind me will fire a gun in eleven minutes. Another murder.
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I stop, and turn back towards the alleyway. The woman he will assault is innocent. It is a simple mugging, but it's going to get out of hand. I should help—no, it's not my problem, I can't help. Death, death, I see only death. It's a bad idea. The baby in front of me starts to cry.
...The children... The children of that redheaded mother will mourn her death for years to come. They will be placed in an orphanage and abused by their foster parents. These children will have very miserable lives. And their mother will have died for nothing. Nothing at all. But I can't interfere. I'm useless. I can see my future, and it spells death. Biting my lip, I turn back and continue to walk.
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Seven minutes...
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I can't take another step. The weight of the people I've left behind is just too heavy to allow me to go on. I feel like I'm as bad as the killers themselves for leaving them. Usually I can ignore that feeling. I have to. But I never truly can ignore them. I remember every single one. Every single life that was taken, every single person that I could do nothing for... It pisses me off!
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I grit my teeth and spin around, marching towards the alley. Four minutes. I can make it. I can do something. I can see the future. I can see him shooting me in the chest. I can see myself falling, dead... But if that's my future, I'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen! Knowing what I do, I can change my future!
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The unsuspecting redhead is lured into the alleyway. Two minutes. I'm running at this point, pushing past the people headed the opposite direction. I step into the alley, and throw myself in front of the woman, shouting, "Leave her alone! Miss, please get down on the ground!" Shocked, she just stands there, her mouth ajar. "Now!" I yell, and she does as she's told.
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"You looking to get shot? Just keep walking!" the man says, pointing the gun at me. I'm terrified, but I have to put on a brave face for this woman. So she knows she'll be alright. I can see myself getting shot in the chest. So, I'll just move at the last second. There won't be anyone behind me except for the woman I told to hit the floor, so the bullet won't hit anyone. I have a chance to beat him. Yes... I can see it...
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"You're the one who needs to walk away," I say, trying to hide my fear.
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"I can't! I need that money, no matter how I get it!" I see this man's daughter—she has leukemia. He needs the money for treatment. Without this treatment, yes, she will die very soon. He really does need the money.
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"If you want money, then there are other ways to get it. You don't have to kill anybody," I tell him, actually feeling sorry for the man.
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"Like what?!" he shouts, furiously.
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"How about asking?" I say. "I'm sure if you'd just tell people your situation, they would get the money for you. Create a website where people can make donations."
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"That would never work!" His trigger finger is shaking. He's going to fire.
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I have to get him to stop. "If you go to jail, where will your daughter be then? She'll have no one to take care of her!" I ask him a challenging question, hoping that might do something. His eyes visibly widen. But, it seems I just struck a nerve. Damn, I should've seen that!
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"How did you know about that..." he mutters, his finger shaking even more. I tense my muscles in preparation. There's a pause, and...
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Now!
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I leap to the side, just before the gun fires. He wasn't expecting that, there's an opening! What happens after that is all adrenaline; I sprint towards him, reaching him in a second, grab the gun, and pull back the slide. Good, now he can't fire it. And next, a move I saw someone do in a martial arts demonstration—I grab just above his elbow with both hands, anchoring his forearm against my shoulder. I then proceed to pull on said arm, straightening it, and then bending it in the wrong direction. He loosens his grip on the weapon, crying out in pain. It falls to the ground, my attack successful. Now, now I've gotta bring him down!
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I step in between his legs, getting a good foothold, and I toss him over my leg, tripping him and slamming his back against the ground. He lets out one last grunt before falling limp, beaten. I... I did it. I recover the weapon immediately, and say, "Please, go home." I intend to turn this weapon in to the police, but I won't apprehend the perpetrator, for his daughter's sake. The man doesn't answer, but lies on the ground breathing heavily, with a hand over his face.
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The woman begins to pick herself off the ground, and says, "Sir... If I may ask, who are you?" I grin, as I see the woman's more happy future, who her children grow up to be. This is so much better than just doing nothing.
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"Just a guy who's tired of being a bystander."
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