My Life Story

"Ireland! There's a package for you down here!"

I put down my phone at the sound of my mom's voice and hopped off my bed. I padded across the wooden floor, swinging my door open, and bounded down the stairs.

"Ireland?"

"Mom, I'm seriously five feet away." I snorted and walked into the kitchen before grabbed the rather small brown cardboard box off the marble island.

"Who's is from?" I asked, spinning it around in my hands.

"I don't know." My mom shrugged. "No return address."

"Whatever." I turned around and ran back up to my room, eager to find out what was inside.

I peeled away the clear duct tape holding the edges together with my fingernails until it was all gone. I carefully pushed the flaps back and was greated with black styrofoam peanuts.

"Well that's wierd." I muttered to myself before inserting my hands into the box, rummaging around for whatever it is that was mailed to me.

"Gotcha!" My finger brushed against the leather binding of a book.

I pulled it out sending about five dozen packing peanuts flying. I ran my fingers accross the leather and flipped the book over in my hands.

Enscribed on the book was my name, birthday hyphenated to another date. The day I would die. I dropped the book and gasped. 

"Its probably just a joke." I laughed nervously. "Don't worry Ireland. And stop talking to yourself." I scolded myself. 

"Oh my gosh." I sighed and picked the book back up to start reading. I opened the book and flipped to the first page. Chapter One.

"Ireland Clark was born on May 3rd, 1997 at St. Joseph's Hospital. She didn't cry at all on that day, and would never cry after that. Born with a tufts of blonde hair and green eyes, Ireland was declared the most beautiful baby ever by the nurse checking up on her mother. Ireland and her mother stayed at the hospital for another day before going home. Ireland's father wasn't at the hospital and he wasn't there when Ireland and her mother got home. He had-"

I slammed the book shut and tossed it to the side of my bed. That was creepy. Very creepy. I regained my composure and inched closer where I had thrown the book. I opened it back up and started flipping through the pages, skimming through words. 

With every word I read it become clearer and clearer. This was a book about my life. My whole life. Not just what had already happened, but what would happen in the future.