Every Good Deed

The doctors knew I was doomed as soon as I was born. They told my parents that I'd have a life expectancy of exactly twenty-one years. But there was something they didn't know. I knew it, but couldn't explain it. I could feel my organs failing slowly, but sometimes it got steadily worse. I couldn't explain it, but I somehow knew that certain things sped up the disease, and my death. I would notice it, when I did a certain thing, I would get a huge burst of pain throughout my body, and I knew it had gotten worse. I'd pieced together eventually what happened. It had started when I shared my toys in kindergarten, and my nose started bleeding. The next major moment was Mother's Day, I gave my mom a present and began throwing up. Other times, it wasn't as noticeable, but I realized that every time I performed a good deed, it sped up the deterioration of my organs. Though I tried to be a decent person, it was hard to be genuinely good, so I settled for neutral. July 30th, the day before my 21st birthday. I would die the next day, I could feel it. I don't know how badly my good deeds over my lifetime had affected the hour I would die, but odds were that I wouldn't wake up. I decided that I'd live like that would happen. This was my last night on earth, and I would act like it. I met up with my friends outside my parents' house, and we went to town. July 31st, my 21st birthday, I woke up next to a dumpster. I jumped up, and immediately sat back down, clutching my head. I couldn't remember anything, except that I was supposed to be dead today. I pulled my hands away from my head, my hair sticking a little bit to my hands. Confused, I looked at the sticky substance coating my fingers and palms. I was dirty, and couldn't tell what color it was. It smelled like rust, and I tried to scrape off a little bit of it. When I did, I screamed. I was covered in blood. It wasn't mine, but it was a fair amount of it. In shock, I pulled out my phone and called my friend who had gone with me the previous night. He filled me in, that I had gotten extremely drunk, and that I had gotten in a fight. One thing didn't make sense to me...why was I still alive? I wasn't supposed to wake up this morning. I had a theory, so I decided to test it out. After washing off the blood, I went home. The first thing I did was give my brother some money to buy something he wanted. Immediately, as I had expected, my nose started bleeding. Then, as soon as he left, I went to my mom's purse and stole $20. Almost as if it hadn't been there in the first place, my nosebleed cleared up, the only trace being the blood on my face. I'd never considered this, but it seemed perfectly logical once I thought about it. Good deeds accelerated the organ failure, so evil or bad deeds should slow it down or reverse it! Immediately I went out, enjoying my newfound cure. I bumped into a man on the street and stole his wallet, lessening the constant headache I had. Eventually, I realized that I couldn't keep committing crimes like this or else I'd be arrested. So I settled down, doing one or two small evil things a day. I leave the toilet seat up now, or cut in line, or if I'm feeling particularly evil, I drop items into people's shopping carts that shouldn't be there. Condoms in an old married couple's cart was particularly interesting. I have no idea if the evil deeds will make me immortal or just give me an average lifespan, but seeing as I haven't died yet, I'm going to live as if I would never die.