Chapter One

My alarm clock rang abruptly waking me from a beautiful dream. I swung my arm out hitting the snooze button before rolling over to squint at the clock. As I read the date I suddenly became fully awake. It was like I had just been slapped across the face. In bright red led lights I saw the date; Tuesday 31st March. My heart plummeted down into my gut. I sat slowly looking around the room for anything that might had changed, but nothing had. I could hear the noise of my Mum walking about downstairs, my Dad snoring in the room next door; I always hated how thin the walls were. Nothing seemed to have changed, but it was destined to. 

     I slowly got out of bed. I walked up to my mirror to check to see if their was any difference to my appearance, but it was still the same. I still saw the average heighted brunette girl staring back at me. Her green/yellows blank and wide. 

     My motivation to get dressed and make myself look presentable was decreasing rapidly, why make an effort on a day like this when it could end at any moment. In the end I just went downstairs still dressed in my pyjamas to find my Mum sat at the breakfast bar hunched over the newspaper with her head in her hands. 

“You alright?” I asked while going towards the fridge to get myself a glass of milk. Suddenly she sat up and wiped tears from her eyes which were clearly highlighted from the mascara stains left under them. She looked me up and down before rushing over to me nearly knocking me over with her embrace causing me to drop my glass of milk. “Aw Viva.” fresh tears started to break out of her eyes soaking my shoulder. I tried to squirm out of her grasp; I wasn’t really one for big displays of affection, I was more of the modest type. She let me go at once before looking down to see the mess that had been made. “Oh I’m so sorry, your milk.” she spluttered still crying. “It's no use crying over spilled milk Mum.” I replied while turning to find the dustpan and brush. 

     The mess was cleaned and I sat with my mum eating my cereal as she pretended to read the newspaper. She turned to me putting it down. “Its funny…” she paused as if for thought. “I knew this day was coming, I’ve known since day one. You’d think I would of prepared myself or something.” her eyes lowered to look at her hands which were interlocking due to the awkward situation. “No amount of time was going to prepare you mum.” I reassured her resting my hand on her knee. “ I mean its the cruel world we live in, knowing the day you die, hell having it marked on you permanently from birth, I mean what can prepare you for something like that?” 

     It was something that had always eluded me. Why were we born with our death date marked on us? Why would you want someone to have that knowledge? Some saw it as a warning, a reason to not waste life. They used it as a fuel to seize the day, something my first primary school teacher had always told me when I was younger. I almost felt sorry for her having that job of explaining the mark. Poor Mrs Plum, I dread to think how I would explain it to someone without sending them and myself into an existential crisis, although I guess not many 5 or 6 year olds really have them. Still the concept of knowing your death seemed wrong to me, but what did I know. Life had always been this way, or at least that was what we had been lead to believe. It made me wonder…who had been the one to do this. People talk of religion that there is someone out there who decided our fates for a reason…but why? It was the unanswered question that had always plagued my existence.        “I just mean, it’s the unknown of how and when!” my Mum really was a mess. My Dad walked into the room yarning. He stretched out his hand to grab the newspaper as he walked past the breakfast bar. It was only second before he too saw the date at the top of the newspaper. 

       Trying to calm the pair of them down was tiring. They both were upset; knowing your daughter was going to die today wasn't easy, but I just didn't want to talk about it. I was just waiting. Waiting for the invertible. Mum and dad decided to go out in the end and buy all the ingredients to my favourite dinner, as if to get me a proper send off. I was just walking round the house. I eventually decided to get dressed and changed into a pair of skinny jeans with a white vest top before brushing and putting my rather long hair into a high messy bun. 

        I looked down at my left wrist. The number still just a plain black against my pale white skin. We were never taught about the warning signs or hints of when it would happen but throughout my 18 years I’d noticed something. Whenever anyone was about to die, the mark on their arm would glow, a faint orange colour. Through having many existential crisis’s I slowly became interested in the theory behind our marks and how they worked. This sort of behaviour wasn’t encouraged with a lot of people fearing the concept behind it. I on the other hand had never cared. My best friend Carrie had always tried to stop me but I found it helped me to understand our world by looking into its meanings. 

        She hadn’t spoken to me all day; not a call, a text or anything. I realised she was probably just as upset as my parents with this situation and was just dealing with the fact this day was my last. The waiting was tiring. I wanted to be doing something and everything seemed pointless to me. Without thinking of anyone but myself I stood up. Why should I have to play the waiting game when I can just end this now? I put on a jacket and walked out my house. I looked at a busy road, cars speeding past recklessly. As the idea started to form in my head I felt a tingling on my wrist. Leaving everything I cared about behind me I stepped out into the road. As a white mercedes came hurtling towards me I closed my eyes. This is it. This is the end. 

         Suddenly something rock hard slammed into me from the side causing me to fly onto the pavement, knocking me out unconscious.         

Author's Note

Would love some feedback on this piece on opinions and spelling etc. Hope you like it :-)

Reviews

[Dark Empress]

I like this chapter, will be reading more

[Seamus Underwood]

Some slight spelling mistakes with 'buy road' which should be 'byroad' and so on. Outside of that, I'm very intrigued to read what comes next. Very interesting premise and I look forward to more. I like it!