"50 bucks says you can't,' the boy said as he folded his arms, causing his obnoxiously fancy watch to rattle around his wrist.

          A group of boys had gathered around Ned's table after class, where he had just proclaimed; I can remember anything - which seemed like an open challenge. The boys started their attempts to break down his claim, What was the first thing I said to you? What is the 99th decimal of pi? When was the last lunar eclipse?

          "Your very first words to me were, 'Woah, cool shirt!' The 99th decimal is '9' and the last lunar eclipse was on the 27th July" Ned replied in a single breath before they could even whip out their phones to check their facts. Ned's nonchalant demeanor and effortless recall stunned the room.

          Except, it took considerable effort. But if he had so much as taken a glance at something or so much as heard a whisper, he would be able to recall it perfectly in the NZone, a special little place in his head.

          In his mind, every moment that had ever been perceived in his waking moments were displayed as moving images collaged together and projected on a giant screen. Each image differed in size depending on the strength of the memory.

          With each question, Ned willed the screen to scroll past dozens of images until he found the memory he needed. The image would enlarge and play out the scene which was immediately followed by a nauseating choke that hit every time. It was hard for Ned to figure this out himself, maybe it was all just in his mind but he proceeded to find the answers. Such as when he saw Sean for the very first time, or when the entire board was filled up with numbers on March 14 and that one morning where the tv broadcasted the lunar eclipse while he was having breakfast.

          "No way, that was such a fluke. Let's make a bet, you can't possibly know the password to my phone. I do remember telling you that one time." Sean smirked as he slapped a 50 dollar bill onto the table and slid his locked phone screen towards Ned.

          A queasy feeling remained in Ned's gut. It did not feel right for Ned to take his money, or use his memory to invade someone else's privacy but the smug look on Sean's face pushed him just enough to go for another gut-wrenching ride. He was instantly swallowed into the memory of a casual conversation they shared one afternoon.

          "Gosh, I hate these password requirements" Sean complained as he fiddled with his new phone.

          "Are you one of those people that uses the same password for everything?" Sean said as he continued to be buried into the screen.

          "Would you believe it if I told you I always used Moosemangotmoves87?" Sean laughed to himself.

          Alright let's get out of this memory, I'm really having a hard time keeping my lunch in. Ned thought, but just as he was about to snap back to reality, he noticed something weird about Sean's actions. He forced the memory to rewind and this time he focused on his fingers that told a different story. That sneaky bitch...

          The phone lit up before Ned as he got back to his senses, where not a second had passed in the eyes of others. He picked up the phone and mimicked what he saw in the memory. *click* and he was in.

          Sean's eyes popped out as he struggled to comprehend what just occurred. "This... isn't... possible... That's not even memory work, that's just insane! How'd you do that?!". The other boys were just as stunned as Ned sheepishly extended his tongue, slipped the cash into his pocket and left the classroom - straight to the bathroom. 

            Ned had never thought much about what he could do. On the surface, he was just like any ordinary 17-year-old. However, after his parents noticed his superb memory when he was a kid, they brought him to a psychologist, hoping to discover he was a genius or someone special. But they only left with a medical diagnosis - Hyperthymesia - which never did change their lives in the ways they were expecting.

Hyperthymesia: unusual level of memory or superior autobiographical memory. Having the ability to recall a vast number of life events and personal experiences.

          That term never sat well with Ned. It was never as simple as memory recall. He had so much control... and so much he never bothered to get to know...

          Ned threw the bags of chips and snacks on onto a table and slumped himself on the pillows of air. What was he to do with his 'gift'? Was it only capable of entertaining his friends? He could hardly use it to excel in school where memory work simply would not cut it anymore. And he would have to write in sludges of vomit if he had to access his memories multiple times in a row. What was his purpose in life? He considered being a professional gambler, maybe start a memory-based carnival game stall, or maybe... try to change the world. That last thought took Ned by surprise, where did that come from? 

          Maybe it was a literal calling from the universe.

          Just then, an elderly man with an unkempt hairstyle passed the corridor in front of Ned. His dressing was unusually young for his age, sporting a maroon top and a pair of denim jeans. Ned's judgemental eyes were caught by the man who stopped dead in his tracks, who suddenly flaunted the greasiest smile Ned had ever seen in his life.

          Run – His instincts cried out.