Signals From Tomorrow

CHAPTER 9: School Awareness

For days after what happened at Oakwood Road, Ethan walked around with a heavy, hollow feeling in his chest.

He kept replaying the moment in his mind: the boy he had pulled back, safe and unharmed, and the woman lying on the road across from him, her life hanging in the balance because he had altered the path of events. He kept asking himself the same questions over and over. Did I do the right thing? Would it have been better if I had done nothing at all? If I had just let things happen as they were written, would everyone have walked away unhurt?

He had no answers. No matter how he turned it over in his head, no matter how he tried to justify or explain it, the truth remained the same: he had changed who suffered, but he could not stop the suffering itself.

The words from the phone echoed constantly: You chose who would bear it.

It was a terrifying thought. It meant that every time he used what he knew, every time he acted or chose or intervened, he was making a decision that carried weight far greater than he had ever imagined. He wasn’t just navigating his own life anymore. He was affecting the lives of everyone around him, whether he meant to or not.

For a little while, he even considered stopping. He thought about turning the phone off, putting it away, pretending he had never found it, going back to being the boy who walked through life blind to what was coming. At least then, the choices weren’t his to make. At least then, the pain and the trouble just happened, and he didn’t have to feel responsible for any of it.

But as the days passed, and the shock began to fade, Ethan realised something else.

Ignorance wasn’t innocence.

Just because you didn’t know what was coming didn’t mean you weren’t part of the story. It just meant you were moving through it without understanding, without control, without the ability to help anyone or protect anyone, including yourself.

And even if it came with terrible responsibility, even if it came with difficult choices and heavy consequences… knowledge was still power. It was still something that set him apart. It was still something that could be used to make his life better, to keep himself safe, to give him the kind of stability and success he had never been able to find before.

He couldn’t control the whole world. He couldn’t rewrite the rules of fate. But he could control how he lived his life. He could use what he knew to survive, to thrive, to be more than just the quiet, invisible boy everyone had always seen him as.

And so, Ethan made his decision. He would keep using the phone. But he would be careful. He would keep his focus close to home, on his own path, on the things that directly affected him. He would avoid getting involved in events that didn’t concern him, events where his choices could shift harm from one person to another. He would use his knowledge to protect himself, to succeed, and to navigate his world safely, without meddling in the lives of strangers.

It was a line he drew for himself. A boundary. And he was determined to stick to it.

Nowhere did this new approach become more obvious than at school.

School had always been the hardest place for Ethan. It was where he felt most vulnerable, most exposed, most at the mercy of other people’s moods and actions. It was where he had spent years being overlooked, underestimated, bullied, and blamed for things he didn’t do. It was the place where the label of “bad luck” had stuck to him most firmly, where everyone seemed to believe that trouble followed him wherever he went.

But now, things were different.

Now, Ethan walked through the school gates every morning with a confidence he had never possessed before. He knew everything that was going to happen before it happened. He knew who would be in which corridor, what questions would be asked in class, what work needed to be done, who was in a good mood and who was looking for a fight.

And he used every single piece of information to his advantage.

It started with the simple things, just as it had before, but now he used them not just to avoid trouble, but to stand out, to prove himself, to show everyone that he was capable, smart, and reliable.

“Prediction 031: Today in Science class, Mr. Torres will ask for volunteers to explain the theory of chemical reactions. Most students will not have read the chapter, and few will be able to give a full and correct answer. He will be particularly impressed by anyone who can reference the examples given on pages 78 and 79.”

Ethan read this before he even left his house. While other students were rushing to get ready, worrying about being late or forgetting their books, Ethan sat calmly at his desk, reading through the chapters, making notes, memorising the details.

When the moment came in class, and Mr. Torres asked the question, the room went quiet. Heads bowed, eyes looked down at desks or out of windows, no one wanting to be called upon, no one wanting to admit they hadn’t done the reading.

Ethan simply raised his hand.

“I can explain it, sir,” he said clearly.

All heads turned toward him. There were looks of surprise, whispers exchanged between students. Ethan? He never volunteers. What is he doing?

Mr. Torres looked equally surprised, but he nodded. “Very well, Ethan. Go ahead.”

Ethan stood up and spoke. He explained the theory perfectly, step by step, and just as the prediction had said, he referenced the exact examples from the pages the teacher valued most. He spoke clearly, confidently, without hesitation, as if he had known this information for years.

When he finished, the class was silent for a moment. Then Mr. Torres smiled—a genuine, impressed smile that Ethan had never seen directed at him before.

“Excellent work, Ethan,” he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “That is exactly the kind of understanding I look for. You have clearly put in the time and effort to study properly. Well done.”

He wrote a big, bright A+ next to Ethan’s name in his register, and Ethan sat back down feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through his chest.

It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t talent he had suddenly discovered. It was preparation. It was knowing exactly what was needed, exactly what was expected, exactly how to succeed.

And he did it again, and again, and again.

In English class, he knew exactly which poems would be discussed, exactly which themes the teacher would focus on, exactly what kind of analysis would get the highest marks. He wrote his essays and his answers perfectly, always hitting every single point the teacher was looking for.

In Maths, he knew exactly which problems would be set as homework, exactly which methods were required to solve them, exactly where students usually made mistakes so he could avoid them entirely.

In History, he knew exactly which dates, names, and events would appear in quizzes and tests, so he studied them thoroughly and was always the first one to finish his work, and always with the best results.

Week after week, Ethan’s grades climbed higher and higher. What had once been average or below-average marks became top scores. What had once been comments like needs to try harder or lacks focus became excellent work, exceptional understanding, and one of the best students in the class.

Teachers who had barely noticed him before now spoke to him with respect, asking him for his opinions, using his work as an example for others, singling him out for praise in front of the whole class. Students who had ignored him or looked down on him now looked at him differently—some with admiration, some with confusion, some with envy.

They all said the same thing. Ethan has really changed. He’s so smart now. He’s doing so well. It’s like he’s become a different person.

And in a way, they were right. He had changed. He had gone from being the boy who didn’t know what was going on, who was always one step behind, who was always caught off guard… to being the boy who knew everything, who was always prepared, who was always one step ahead of everyone else.

But it wasn’t just his grades that were changing. His whole experience of school was transforming, because he was also using his knowledge to stay safe, to avoid the dangers that had once made every day feel like a battle.

He knew exactly where Marcus and his group would be at any given time. He knew exactly what they were planning, exactly who they were targeting, exactly what mood they would be in.

“Prediction 035: Marcus and his friends will be waiting near the bike sheds at break time. They are looking for someone to trip or push around. They are feeling angry today, and anyone who gets too close will be targeted for insults and rough treatment. They will leave the area at 11:27 AM exactly.”

Ethan didn’t go near the bike sheds. He didn’t even take the path that led past them. He spent his break time in the library, or in the quiet corner of the common room, or walking around the parts of the school he knew were safe and empty. He didn’t try to stop them from being cruel, he didn’t try to change who they were or what they did—he simply made sure that he was never there to be their victim.

And it worked.

For weeks, Marcus and his friends didn’t lay a hand on him, didn’t shout insults at him, didn’t even speak to him. They looked for him, they waited for him, they tried to find him, but he was always somewhere else. He was always somewhere they weren’t. He was always one step ahead, moving through the building like a ghost, visible when he wanted to be, invisible when he didn’t.

It was a strange feeling. He was still the same boy. They were still the same boys. Nothing about them had changed… but because he knew everything, they had lost all their power over him. They couldn’t hurt him anymore, because they couldn’t catch him. They couldn’t catch him, because he always knew exactly where they were and exactly what they were doing.

Ethan found that this gave him a new kind of confidence. He didn’t have to be afraid anymore. He didn’t have to walk with his head down, or hurry past them, or feel his heart race every time he saw them in the distance. He could just keep walking, calm and steady, knowing that he was safe, knowing that he was in control of his own space and his own time.

Even the small, annoying things that used to ruin his days stopped happening to him.

He knew exactly when the water fountain would be broken, so he brought his own water. He knew exactly when the canteen food would be bad, so he brought his own lunch. He knew exactly when the buses would be delayed or cancelled, so he planned his journeys around them. He knew exactly when it would rain, so he always had his umbrella. He knew exactly when the heating would fail or the lights would go out, so he dressed appropriately and was never caught out.

To everyone else, it seemed like Ethan had suddenly become incredibly lucky. Everything went right for him. He was never late, never unprepared, never caught in the rain, never hungry, never in the wrong place at the wrong time. While everyone else was always rushing, always complaining, always dealing with problems and inconveniences, Ethan moved through his days smoothly, easily, effortlessly.

“You’re so lucky, Ethan,” people would say. “Everything just works out for you now. How do you do it?”

Ethan would just smile and shrug. “I guess I just pay attention,” he would say.

He didn’t tell them the truth. He didn’t tell them that luck had nothing to do with it. He didn’t tell them that he didn’t just pay attention—he knew exactly what was going to happen before it even began. He kept his secret safe, locked away inside himself, because he knew that if anyone ever found out, everything would change. They wouldn’t be impressed. They wouldn’t understand. They would be afraid, or angry, or jealous, and they would try to take it away from him or use it for themselves.

This power was his, and his alone. And he was going to keep it that way.

But even as he enjoyed this new life—even as he felt smarter, safer, more successful than he had ever felt before—there was still that small, quiet voice in the back of his mind, reminding him of the cost.

He had told himself he would only use this knowledge for himself, that he would stay away from the events that involved other people, that he would keep his boundaries clear. But the predictions kept coming, and as he looked through them every day, he still saw things happening all around him—things that were unfair, things that were cruel, things that were painful, things that he knew about but chose to ignore.

He saw when other students were going to be bullied or picked on, and he said nothing. He saw when other people were going to make mistakes or fail tests or get into trouble, and he said nothing. He saw when things were going to go wrong for people, and he walked away, telling himself that it wasn’t his business, that it wasn’t his responsibility, that he had made his choice to protect himself and stay out of other people’s lives.

But every time he did it, he felt a little colder inside. Every time he turned away from something he knew was going to happen, he felt himself pulling further and further away from the people around him. He was living in the same building, walking the same corridors, sitting in the same classrooms… but he felt like he was in a completely different world.

They were all moving through their lives blind, guessing, hoping, reacting to things as they happened. He was moving through his life with his eyes wide open, seeing everything, knowing everything, choosing exactly where he would go and what he would do.

It made him feel powerful, yes. It made him feel safe, yes. But it also made him feel separate. Alone. As if there was a wall growing between him and everyone else, a wall built out of knowledge that no one else possessed.

He was the boy who knew everything… and yet, in some ways, he was becoming the boy who understood less and less about what it meant to be part of something bigger than himself.

One afternoon, as he was packing his bag to leave, he saw a new prediction appear on the screen, one that broke through his careful boundaries and brought all his thoughts crashing back to the surface.

“Prediction 038: Tomorrow afternoon, during break time, Marcus and his group will target a student named Leo. He is quiet and keeps to himself, much like you used to. They intend to corner him, take his bag, destroy his work, and humiliate him in front of everyone. They have planned this for days. The event will take place near the old gymnasium at 10:51 AM.”

Ethan stared at the words, and for the first time in weeks, he felt that old familiar twist in his chest.

This wasn’t a stranger in the market or a child running into the road. This was someone just like him. Someone who was going through exactly what he had gone through for years. Someone who was helpless, who didn’t know what was coming, who was walking straight into danger without even realising it.

He could walk away. He could do exactly what he had been doing—avoid the area, keep his head down, let it happen. He could tell himself it wasn’t his problem, that he had his own life to live, that he couldn’t save everyone.

But as he looked at the screen, he realised that the choice he had made—to only look after himself—wasn’t as simple or as easy as he had thought.

Because knowing something bad is going to happen, and choosing to do nothing about it… was that really any different from causing it yourself?

He closed his bag slowly, his mind already turning, his careful boundaries suddenly feeling fragile and thin.

He had thought he had found the perfect way to live with his power. He had thought he had found the balance between using it and staying safe.

But now he realised that the choices were only going to get harder.

And the question that had been sitting in the back of his mind was now moving right to the front:

If you know you can stop something bad from happening… do you have the right to look the other way?