I slept my lunch break away, snoozing on my desk. I haven’t been feeling well. When I woke up, I checked my work email only to find a spam mail telling me I will have rotten luck for ten years if I don’t forward it to ten people. Ten is a good number. A solid one. However, I do not believe in chain messages and the bad luck that would haunt you and pounce on you if not spread around. The first ever chain message I received was when I was in elementary school. I nearly trampled upon a crumpled piece of notebook paper in my haste to end my recess time and go back to the classroom. I don’t know why but I picked up the orphaned paper. I opened it, smoothed out the wrinkles and the chain message appeared to me in black ink. I threw it to the nearest wastebasket and went back to the classroom. I failed my Math quiz that same day. Not exactly what I’d blame on some chain message. Didn’t they know? I always bomb Math. Always. That is no bad luck. That is fact.
Today I deleted that spam mail in my inbox. Zero tolerance for something like that. I hurriedly shut down my computer and rushed out of the office. I haven’t taken more than three steps away from our tall, silver-gray building when a black cat — plump and so full of hair it looked ridiculous and frightening at the same time — silently, quickly crossed my path. I had to stop myself from calling out to it, as I have always had a soft spot for cats. Whoever said black cats are signs of bad luck was being very judgmental and silly.
I headed for the parking lot across the building, where my red Honda Civic was parked underneath some tree (oak? mango? Jack in the Beanstalk type? — I honestly could not remember for the life of me) that was huge and bursting with brilliant green leaves. It was the perfect shade for the harsh mid-afternoon sun. When I got to my car, I saw a parking ticket waiting for me, stuck in the windshield wiper. With a disappointed sigh, I took it, climbed inside my car and chucked the ticket in the backseat. i will deal with that tomorrow. Somewhere in my mind whispered that the car would not start because I did not heed the chain mail, because that fluffy black cat crossed my path. Combined, I would have bad luck forever until the day I die. (And when would that be?)
I brushed off that trail of thought. Silly subconscious throwing histrionics. I chuckled to myself as my car started without trouble at all. I drove down the highway, into the neat and narrow streets that eventually led me to my one bedroom bungalow. I got down my car, walked up to my home and was surprised to find my door unlocked when I fitted my key. I slowly opened the door and I could hear its slow, noisy creak.
Something is wrong here. Something horribly wrong.
