The Sight

We're not allowed to save people. We have the Sight but we're not supposed to do anything about it.

      Day by day people passed and each day I watched as the little, orange numbers above their heads flashed and dwindled down to zero. Not everyone can see these things. Actually, I'm the only one who can. Every ten years when the decade is over and a new baby is born in the new decade, one special person is gifted (or cursed) with the ability to see those numbers. That person is called the Seer. And what they have is called the Sight. There's one person who can put the numbers there. They're called the Clock Master. Every now and then he gets lazy and makes people have a shorter amount of time than others. Which explains young deaths, still borns and the likes. When they're time runs out, then they die. Some are murdered, some die at birth and others die of diseases and natural causes. Those numbers above their heads...that's they're life count. It tells how much time they have to live. Some die by accidents and their numbers quickly dwindle down to zero. The only person that the Seer can not see...is their own. It may seem glamorous to be able to see when people are going to die but in reality...it's torture. The Seer can't do anything about the deaths the see. They can, but they're not supposed to. The biggest letdown this decade; I'm this decades Seer.
    My life changed jurasticly when I disobeyed. The day I went against the one rule I had as a Seer; I saved a life. I sat on a park bench somewhere in the middle of New York City watching the Normals (as they were called) walk down the street, drive their cars on the roads, rose their bikes on the sidewalks and even rode the bus to wherever they were going. The numbers above their heads going down and down a knotch each second. There was a man in a brown tailored suit in front of me. He looked about in his mid-fifties. Had a few more years left on his count. But then he took a step off the sidewalk and into the road and his life count started going down fast. I heard the wheels of the oncoming bus screech as the conductor tried desperately to stop in time. But then the man was hit. Hard. Poor b*****d. I was so used to seeing things like this that I had stopped wincing after I turned eleven. I had gotten the Sight when I was ten. I've been the Seer for eight years. Two more to go.
    The wind picked up and swept my long, raven black hair into my face. I hate the wind. Squinting through my hair that now skewerd my vision I could see a boy standing on the train tacks about to cross. I could hear the train coming and fast. My heart started to race as I realized what was going to happen. He was going to die. I looked about his head to read the numbers. They weren't going fast. They were slowly dwindling down. He was destined to die from that train hitting him. I should be used to this. I should've just sat there and waited. But I didn't. I shot up and ran as fast as my short, skinny legs could carry me and ran to that boy. The wind making my hazel eyes water. And then...I ran into him, carrying us passed the tracks on the other side to safety and finally falling on top of him. I could rest then. I saved his life.