Chapter 1

If life were anything like you made it, Elliot had made his a long time ago. He was content to live his life of solitude—friends? They would only way him down, so his family sure as hell would crush him. But, it wasn’t their fault—it was his. Or, at least the damn curse that had been dealt onto him by God knows who. It could have been God himself for all Elliot knew. Though he didn’t much believe in the man above the clouds much these days (he’d hardly prayed since he was ten), he very much believed in the concept of hell. More specifically, the hell you make yourself on planet earth. He could not deny the existence of that, because he had been living in it for as long as he could remember. And unlike the storybook versions of hell, with pits of fire and torture chambers, Elliot’s hell had been much more tamer on the surface. It was what was on the inside that mattered, and it mattered a great deal. At the age of two, he learned how to walk. When he was three, he learned how to talk. And ever since he could remember clearly, Elliot Fencer never experienced a moment of solitude until he finally left his home at the age of seventeen. That was when they finally stopped—the waves he deemed them. They came and went whenever they felt like it—thoughts suddenly assaulting his brain like a shotgun to the temple. Nasty thoughts, horrid thoughts, depressing thoughts, anguish, fear, dread, hopes, dreams, despair. Happy thoughts, sad thoughts… It didn’t matter; they came indiscriminately fast and left whenever they felt like it. Not only thoughts, though. It was more… so much more.

Well, in the end, the waves eventually slowed down. Thoughts became less frequent as he grew up. Perhaps they were just some strange phase in his life that would hopefully never rear its ugly head again.

It was the first day of his last year in high school. The seventeen-year-old combed out his messy, curly hair, trying to make it look, at the very least, presentable before the morning bell rang. But what was the point? He didn’t have any friends. He’d cast them aside since his freshman year. It wasn’t that he hated Claire and John, not by any means. He’d loved his best friends of the self-proclaimed “Nerd Gang” quite dearly. However, the waves did not love them back. They pushed him away from them just like they’d pushed him away from his family. It was unfortunate, but maybe it was for the better.

The school bell rang, and the first period was starting. He ceased combing, hoping everything got untangled. He walked through bustling hallways, head down and dragging his feet slowly. Being ignored as usual. It was calm, though. It was also calm when he sat down at his desk, centered at the back of the classroom. He had isolated himself, and it was worth it. No more pounding headaches or fever spikes. No more assaults on his brain. No hint of a wave has struck Elliot for the past year. Class went on as it normally did on the first day of school. It was still an introductory phase into the new year, so there was plenty of time for socializing amongst peers as whispers and conversations breezed throughout the room. Elliot sat next to the window with an earbud in his ear, listening to a random podcast about astronomy. He wasn’t particularly interested in the subject, but he was bored, and all of his other favorite creators hadn’t updated that day. If nothing else, it was nice to just listen to something, anything, to cure the monotonous and slow school life.

As the day dragged on and the bell finally rang to change classes, Elliot got up from his desk. He felt an old friend rise to the surface suddenly. In an instant, it was as if he had been sentenced to another realm of existence. It was a wave so powerful that his vision was tainted by things that weren’t even there. Words were muffled, fast-paced, and strained. Visions were blurred with an array of colors. Then, they started to come into focus—there were… eyes staring at him. Multiple eyes. Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes. They were sad, lonely, and desperate eyes. Then, he saw his father, who’d been dead for over a year. Then, his mother. They were both just staring at him like zombies, until the film went blank. A silent buzz ran through Elliot’s head as another blurry vision came into view. A sinister, greedy grin was all he could see. Next came the blood. Pounds and pounds of blood, scattered across an empty white floor with a cradle sitting in the middle. The blood formed an incomprehensible circle that surrounded the cradle as a wave of emotions poured into the young man’s head. They weren’t screams. It was just chatter. Talking, gossip, casual conversation as light blues music played in the background. What was he seeing and why was he seeing it? It was all a mess and didn’t make any sense. This was a wave unlike any Elliot had ever seen, and he just wanted it to end.

“Please,” he heard a voice cry out. “Please, don’t leave me here.”

It was the voice of a young girl, maybe? How old was she? Who was she? Leave her where? He couldn’t make out anything as the film went completely blank and the voice became increasingly muffled until eventually all was silent.

*******************

“Apple?” Father asked sternly.

“$169 closing, February 3rd,” Elliot replied.

“NVIDIA?”

“!76 closing, um, April 18th, I think,” that earned Elliot a firm slap across the face. Accuracy was demanded.

“Try again. Don’t half-ass it this time.”

The young boy held his bruised right cheek as he held in his tears, staring at the computer screen in front of him. He had to stare and stare for hours on end, until a wave finally came, showing him a glimpse of the future. He had to pay attention as these waves came in and went so quickly. If he blinked, he would miss it—he didn’t want to miss it. That meant more pain. That meant the belt, that meant his Father, his once-loving Father, was angry with him. He didn’t like it when Father was angry. He didn’t like the yelling, nor the noise. All the six-year-old child wanted was peace, silence, and bliss. But that peace never came. Imagine that. A six-year-old child should have all the energy in the world. They should be full of life, full of noise, full of wonder. But Elliot was drained. He just wanted it to end. But Father pushed him further and further over the edge.

“It’s for your family,” Father said. “Won’t you help us, son? We’re so close, so close,” Father said, as he grabbed both of Elliot’s shoulders and peered over him. “Tell me, Elliot. What do you see?”

This time, it was a softer voice, reminiscent of the old Father. Elliot liked that tone much better, and it made him feel… soft. He didn’t want to disappoint Father, and he swore that what he was doing would help out his family. What Elliot was doing was so important that Father relied on him at such a young age. He wanted to make Father proud. He wanted to see him smile and be nice to him again. He wanted to go to the park with him and play with Selly and Cory again. He hadn’t seen them in so long. So, the young boy focused and stared at the computer screen diligently, straining his eyes until they turned red. The numbers started to form again, slowly. He could see the highs, the lows, and everything in between on the stock market. The waves came on again, and along with the numbers and dates that were rapidly moving in front of him, he could also hear an entire town’s worth of voices assaulting his brain all at once. He pulled through the pain and memorized the numbers, reciting them back as Father wrote them down.

“NVIDIA, 186, closing April 13th. Amazon, 199, closing June 2nd, Google, 327, closing July 7th.”

Elliot went on and on, reciting all of the highs he had witnessed in the growing companies. From big companies to small companies, he could see them all. He recited as many as he could until the waves went away. Finally, they had dissipated after only a few minutes, as Elliot shut his eyes tightly and put both hands over his face.

“I-is that enough? Did I do well, Father?” Elliot asked in a strained voice, trying to hold back his tears. Father said that men don’t cry, so Elliot had to be strong. But he was just so tired. All he could think about was sleep. Uninterrupted sleep in the pitch black sounded like heaven to the child.

“You did great, Elle,” Father replied with a big, wide grin. “My son… atta boy,” he picked up his son and swung him in the air, making plane noises as he smiled. Elliot felt warmth in that moment that had become increasingly rare. A father, proud of his son, praises his son for doing a good job. And that was all he wanted, a father. Father put his Elliot down and patted him on the head. “Elle, you have no idea how much you’ve helped me. No, helped us. You might not understand now, and I know it’s hard. But, Elle... I need you to stay strong and keep seeing how the numbers move, okay? For me, and for your big sis too.”

“O-okay, daddy,” Elliot said, frowning with his head down. “And for mommy too?” he added.

That comment brought upon a frown from his father that far outmatched little Elliot. “Your mother is a whore,” Julian said sternly. (That’s what he started calling him from that day forward.)

**********************************

The faint scent of lemon hit Elliot’s nose as he slowly woke from his slumber. At least, he was half-awake. His mind was awake, but his body wouldn’t move an inch—sleep paralysis, it was somewhere among the top five pet peeves that the young man had. His heart beat was rapid as he slowly twitched his fingers, trying to get his body up to speed with his brain. When it finally did, his body jolted forward, and he found himself lying in a bed in the school nurse's office. He took rapid breaths as he started to calm down, still trying to comprehend the visions he had seen. With his hand pressed against his face, his eyes closed as he tried to recall those visions. A cradle? Mother and Father? Smiles? And… blood? It was an incomprehensible mess, and Elliot still didn’t know what to think of it. He thought at last he’d be free from such things, but the waves came back like an avalanche—this time, they were much more intense and made even less sense. If there was a future there, Elliot hoped he would have no part in it. It still left the question of why, though. Why now, after all this time of him having a clear head, had the waves come back to him? He had no contact with his family for over a year,r and he had no friends to speak of since his last year of middle school. He had deduced that those distractions had been the catalyst for his unwanted burdens, but there must have been something else at play this time. Elliot had to get this under control because if he had to live like this for another day, no, another second, he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore.

As Elliot thought, he didn’t have the sense to actually observe his surroundings properly. If he had, he would’ve noticed the young lady sitting at the desk a few inches in front of the bed. Unfortunately for him, it had been an all too familiar young lady—sitting tall and proud as usual, rummaging through a graphic novel at a rapid pace, was Selena Underwood. She was casually humming while perusing through the book as Elliot looked on at her in confusion, adjusting her pink glasses occasionally.

“Um, what’s going on? Why am I here?” Elliot asked, confused.

His question was met with a sharp shushing sound as Selena pointed her long index finger toward Elliot, her eyes still fixated on the comic book. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Selena promptly closed the book and let out a deep sigh. “Absolute trash,” she said, displeased. “I wouldn’t recommend it to my worst enemy,” she continued as she pushed her chair over to Elliot. She stared at him sharply with a deadpan expression. Elliot stared back briefly before averting his gaze.

“A-are you gonna tell me what happened or what?” Elliot asked again.

Selena just sighed and gave him his answer: “You passed out, Ellie,” she said in a low voice. “You were dehydrated as hell, but other than that, no need to worry. Just drink up,” she continued, pointing at a glass on the table near his bed.”

“I see,” he said, his gaze pointed downward. “Why are you here, though?”

She stared at him again with another discerning glance, her big brown eyes unwavering. “I’m in your class, first of all. You really didn’t notice? Secondly, they needed someone to watch over you. Guess who was the only volunteer?”

“Oh,” he responded plainly.

“Oh?” she repeated. “All you have to say is oh after all this time? Really?” she asked in a high-pitched tone.

“Thanks, but I’m fine now,” he said, slowly lifting himself from the bed. “Where’s my phone at? What period are we in?” he asked coldly.

She sighed: “You’re a real dipshit, you know that? School’s out by the way. It’s almost three. And your phone's in the drawer.”

Elliot briefly paused, growing some concern at the amount of time he was unconscious. He brushed that and everything else to the side, hoping things would just go back to normal soon. He didn’t want to deal with the waves or his former friends again. Elliot thanked Selena again as he grabbed his phone from the table drawer next to the bed. As he walked to leave the room, Selena grabbed his wrist with her large hand, stopping the boy in his tracks. His face twisted and frowned. “What do you want from me?” he asked angrily, scowling at her.

Selena had a hint of sadness in her eyes when she responded. “I want my friends back,” she said plainly. “My actual friends, you know? Is that really too much to ask for, Ellie?”

Elliot paused briefly as his lips quivered. It would be so easy to just give in, have a normal life, and surround himself with loved ones again. But nobody would understand… the pain and burden that would come with that for Elliot. Unrelenting pain that wouldn’t let up, no matter how hard he tried control the waves. The only way they would cease is if he were alone. And he didn’t want to be a bother. The constant concern and worry people would have as he grimaced and held his aching head. He viewed himself as a nuisance to others, and those around him as a nuisance to him. It was painful, and he didn’t want to keep on living the way he was, but he didn’t see any other choice. Both choices were painful, but Elliot chose the least painful option, at least physically.

“Selly.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her eyes brightening slightly.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” he said, snatching his hand away from her grip. “I don’t want friends or your damn pity. So, just leave me the hell alone,” he continued, his tone low-pitched yet cold.

As he left Selena behind and walked toward the door, she called out to him one last time.

“Liar,” she said, which made Elliot grimace once more. “You should already know I can tell,” she said calmly.

Elliot didn’t look back as he opened the door, but Selena had one more thing to say that made the boy briefly pause.

“Ellie,” she called out, her voice was calm and concise. “I can feel you.”

He walked out the door, shutting it lightly behind him, leaving the past where it should be—for his sake and for theirs.