Chapter 1

Alice tapped her pen against her notebook, eyes flitting to the clock for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. The slim black hands ticked loudly as they made their journey around the white frame, encased behind a metal cage.

She'd asked why every clock in the school was sealed away in a tiny prison and had been told students had a habit of fiddling with them. The children in her school year would never have dared commit such an act of rebellion.

Her hometown, located only a postcode away, was distinct from Greenacre High School in this and several other ways. Perhaps the most distinct difference was that they had gone five years without employing a school counsellor. 

Alice, as a newly qualified counsellor, was unsure she was the best choice for the job. Yet somehow, she’d made her way through the interview, and here she was.

She breathed shakily, nervous about her first meeting with a real-life patient. The skirt she had painstakingly chosen for her first day was proving to be a mistake. The silky fabric lining stuck to her thighs, causing it to ride up and reveal her legs.

The lad sitting opposite looked at her, eyes lingering on her exposed flesh.

"You look delicious," he said. "I can't wait to sink my teeth into you."

The shock of his words left Alice speechless. She stared at him, mouth open as she tried to summon a response.

"What did you say?" was all she could think to reply with.

"Oh." The boy held up a shiny red apple. "I was talking to my food."

Alice let out a gasp of relief, feeling stupid for jumping to such a lewd conclusion. 

"You always talk to food?" she asked, attempting to shift the blame.

"I do," he said, smiling proudly. "Well, I'm not here to see the counsellor about all my inherent normalness."

'My first customer,' Alice thought, taking another deep breath. She was starting to feel light-headed.

He was one of those stereotypical emo kids with long dark hair, fingerless gloves and tight black trousers that did not look comfortable. He even had little lines of kohl beneath his blue eyes.

She was about to introduce herself when the head teacher, Mr. Vindasius, appeared from the room that was to become her office. 

"Sorry, just had a few final adjustments. Health and safety and all that." He smiled—a smile that said he thought it was a load of rubbish. "Go ahead."

Alice entered as he held the door, ducking beneath his arm. She took her seat and placed her meagre supplies on the desk, waiting for Mr. Vindasius to send the boy in.

He rolled his eyes before taking the other seat and looking up with expectant eyes.

"You thought I was talking to you out there?" he asked.

"E-erm, well, I, uh," Alice stammered.

"I'm guessing that isn't an okay thing to say to a girl, even if you might think it," he said. "I'll file it under, ‘Okay to think but not to say.’"

Alice laughed. "It might be better to file it under 'don't think or say.'"

"Okay." He sighed. "I can put in a request to transfer the file, but there's no guarantee it'll be done this year... the administration in my brain is almost as incompetent as the school’s."

Alice frowned as she laughed. 'What a strange boy you are.'

"So, what's your name? I wasn't expecting a visitor so soon. I haven't even set up my own filing system."

"Oh, yeah, Nigel said I was making him lose the will to live so he sent me to you instead," the kid said. "My name's Damien."

"Nigel?"

"Mr. Vindasius," Damien confirmed.

After the interview, Alice's memory had retained a record number of one name—Deb the friendly blonde at the reception desk. Name recall wasn't her strong suit, so a decent filing system and good notes were going to be essential.

"So, Damien, what did they send you here for?"

"I told the English teacher that if she stopped overusing the world ‘amalgamation,’ I'd cure her daughter's heroin addiction.” Damien leaned forward, lowering his voice to add, “I think she thought nobody knew."

Damien fell silent for a moment, staring down at the empty notebook and poised pen in Alice's hand.

"I mean… just say the word mixture. Am I right?" Damien shrugged.

"You know a cure for heroin addiction?" Alice asked.

"No," Damien said.

"Then do you not think it was a cruel and thoughtless thing to say?" Alice pressed.

"I can't cure her addiction, but I can make her not an addict," Damien said.

Alice took a second to centre herself before continuing the conversation. The topic hit close to home; her mother had been a long-term addict before dying of lung disease. She reminded herself to distance her personal life and feelings.

"How is that?" she asked.

"Well, just by willing it," Damien said.

'This kid might need more than a school counsellor,' Alice thought. 'I am not prepared for this.'

It occurred to her that he might be playing her, acting up deliberately to mess with her head in the same way they messed with the time on the clocks.

"If you can will anything into being, why not create a utopia?" she asked, playing to his fantasy.

"I will," he said. "One day, when I'm strong enough, I'm going to wipe out humanity."

That was not the answer she expected.

"You're going to bring on the Apocalypse?" She let out a stifled laugh. "Is that why your parents called you Damien?"

He laughed at this question.

"They named me after some singer they used to like. I think I put them off him," Damien said.

"You think your parents dislike you?" she asked, finally getting somewhere.

Damien shrugged. "Mum spends all her efforts on her new family and Dad sees me once every two weeks for an uncomfortable night with his new perfect family."

Now it made sense. The boy was engaging in fantasies of power to offset a miserable homelife he had no control over. She couldn't help but feel bad for him.

"I think you need to apologise to the English teacher," Alice said.

Damien shook his head. "Nah, but I will cure her daughter."

As Alice tried to summon a response, Damien stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"If you don't believe me, ask me for something and I'll prove it," he challenged.

Alice scoffed and shook her head.

"Go on, what do you have to lose? If it doesn't work you can use that as proof that I'm crazy, and if it does work, you get your wish," he said.

Closing her eyes, Alice thought about it. If she could ask for anything, what would it be?

"I wish my little sister would stop dating a thirty-year-old drug dealer," Alice blurted without thinking. It was the first thing to come to mind since it was the current and most prominent issue in her life.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to listen to your problems, not share mine."

Damien clicked his fingers, ignoring her apology. "Done."

'I wish life were that simple,' Alice thought.

"I also wish you would apologise to the English teacher." Alice smiled encouragingly at him. "Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to beg," Damien said, rolling his eyes. "I'll go tell her I'm sorry."