This was what i tried to imply! I'm not an amazing writer so I'm not sure how i did, but I'm trying everyday to get better :)

Calculus.
It was never my strong suit, especially in high school. And it wasn’t much easier as a 32 year old man. Eventually, I started bringing a calculator to work for this very purpose.
Let me explain myself. To put it bluntly, I can see people’s kill counts. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how it happened either. Ever since I was born I could choose to see a floating number above a person’s head.
Usually it’s 0, in some form. My ability doesn’t like to make it easy. Typically I’ll see something like 3-3, or 5^x = 1. People with 0s tend to have it easy, and people with kills tend to be more complicated. It’s never fully consistant and varies both ways, but it’s a good indicator usually.
I work as a detective, helping the police in solving cold cases. Have you ever watched Dateline or Cold Justice? Thank me for solving such cases, because I bring 90% of them to light. I pride myself in my work, because it’s not all thanks to my ability. A lot of research, digging, hunting, driving, and anything else you can think of. You’d be surprised, trust me.
That’s enough background, I suppose. Let’s get into the present. Yesterday I got home from work to my apartment. It wasn’t much, but it’s better than being homeless. The stairs often creak, the windows whine every time I touch them, and don’t get me started on the doors. No amount of WD-40 can fix them. Sometimes I find it more mysterious than my own powers.
I walked in, kicking off my decrepit boots. The smell of pumpkin overwhelmed my senses as I walked into the living room to the unusual scent. My 5 year old son, Jackson, lay sleeping on the side of the couch. His babysitter, a family friend, sat idle, potentially sleeping, as a soap opera blared on the television. A candle lay burning on the table, illuminating the dark room. I’ve always loved the scent of pumpkin, it reminds me of fall. A beautiful time of the year, really. I figured the babysitter must have brought it. He always has a fun thing to share with Jackson. He’s a great person; I’m lucky to have him around. I spotted his backpack slumped up against the couch: a receipt, a couple notebooks, and an empty plastic baggie. He must have bought the candle then. I was going to ask, but I didn’t have the chance, because I heard soft snores from him. They were both asleep. it really brings It’s a shame I have to work so late sometimes, but I don’t have an option. I really would love to see my son more, but providing as a single father isn’t easy, you know.
It’s not often I use my power around my family, but it doesn’t hurt. Jackson always read a flat 0. Well today it changed. As I concentrated, a red equation appeared above his head. “lim x->10 | (x^2 + x - 90)/(x-10)”. I was confused, but I’ve seen them change in other people before, for no real reason. Usually the answer doesn’t change, so I figured as such. The denominator yielded a 0, so I figured nothing had changed. I set down my briefcase near the staircase, and walked into the kitchen to prepare myself supper.
About 30 minutes later that night, I was eating a slice of meatloaf on the couch. I changed the channel to a Bengals game, and tried to relax. There wasn’t much room due to the 2 sleeping people on each side of the couch, but I didn’t feel like waking them up. Jackson gets cranky when interrupted, and the babysitter deserves some sleep for dealing with the aforementioned little shit. I spaced out, drifting into a memory.
I was in my 9th grade classroom, sketching in my notebook. My Algebra II teacher rambled on, something about factoring. “And if you do this right, clever cancelling will occur. If clever cancelling does not occur, then you did something wrong.” I sighed at his remark; he was quite the eccentric teacher. He always had a corny remark or one of his many catchphrases for any given moment. Briefly after, I snapped back into reality.
The TV blared 43-7. Another embarrassing loss for the Cowboys. I thought back to my memory. Factoring, I pondered. It then clicked. When it did, I went and grabbed a notebook from my shelf. Doing some quick math, I came to a horrifying conclusion. When factored, the equation yields the answer 1.
I shot up, waking up the babysitter. He slowly stirred to life.
“Matthew, what the hell has Jackson been up to today?” I said, letting my emotions get the best of me. I felt bad yelling at the guy, but can you blame me?
“Just watched TV. Let him draw in my notebooks. Can you check if he put them back? I think I heard him rummaging through it earlier but I must’ve fallen asleep.”
Yea yea, lazy bastard, I thought, still worried but glad nothing seemed out of the ordinary so far. As I pulled up his backpack, I found the notebook in question. Just a little sketch of some pirates, nothing out of the ordinary for Jackson. He had quite the imagination, after all. As I set it down, the receipt fell from the top, fluttering down slowly. I caught it, and started to read;
“ CNMN PMPKN CANDLE | $15.99”
So he bought it! As I was about to thank him, I read the second item.
“TYLNOL EXTRM RELIEF | $19.99”
“The hell you need that for? I told you I had Advil in the cabinets,” I inquired.
“For Jackson. He said his head was hurting, so I picked it up. Advil isn’t supposed to be used for young children. I put the rest in a bag; you’re free to take them for the future, grab ‘em out of my backpack.”
The gears started to turn in my head. I turned white.
“IT’S FUCKING EMPTY. DID YOU GIVE HIM THEM ALL?” I yelled in horror. And then it clicked.
When someone dies of natural causes, or any way that doesn’t involve being killed, their counter goes up. I’m not really sure why, but I guess it’s consistant. I dashed across the room, praying I was wrong. I grabbed Jackson’s hand, heart racing. It was cold.