Writing Shorts

#1

Prompt: At birth, everyone has the date they will die tattooed on their arm. You were supposed to die yesterday.

I wove my way through the crowd of people, avoiding the curious looks I received. My panicked state was obvious to those onlookers that spared me a glance. By the time they tried to take a second one, I was already out of their sight. My left hand was wrapped tightly around the crook of my elbow. I hissed softly when I bumped into someone. My hand moved slightly and the black inky curl of the number 2  became visible.

"Hey! Watch where you're going punk!" An older man with thinning gray hair scolded me. 

He's lucky. He still has time left in this world. 

He must have noticed the way my eyes widened and my breathing quickened because he shook his head and wandered off, never sparing me a second glance. At that moment I felt invisible eyes prying at my arm. I felt them trying to peel back the skin, muscle, and tissue of my hand to see what I was hiding underneath.

Without a second thought, I ran all the way home. I was running too fast for anyone to catch the black fate inscribed on my arm. My mother jumped when the front door slammed open. She looked at me from her spot on the couch and I immediately hid my arm behind my back. 

"You okay sweetie? You look as if you've seen a ghost. Must've been quite a scare for you to look as pale as you do." She got up and came closer to me. Her eyes held love and adoration. My eyes found interest in the tile beneath my feet. I wanted to throw myself at her and weep out all of my sorrows. I wanted to tell her everything. I looked up at her, the words ready to tumble out of my mouth.

My heart shattered in that one moment. I couldn't push this burden on her. I faked a smile as well as I could. She can never know about this. This'll kill her...

"Nothing Mom just got a little frightened. There were so many people out and about today, I got a little claustrophobic. I'm fine now though, just going to rest in my room." 

She seemed to have bought it. She left a gentle pat on my shoulder and went back to her spot on the couch. I slowly climbed the stairs, not wanting to draw any more attention towards myself. As soon as I entered my room I slid down the door and sat with my knees drawn into my body. I looked at the black, cursive writing on my arm. 

September 18th, 2522

My room was dark but it stood out clear as day. A soft green glow caught my attention. I stood up and slowly made my way towards the nightstand where the glow was originating from. My hand shook as I reached out and grabbed my alarm clock. The time wasn't what caught my attention, but what was under it did.

September 19th, 2522

The day after I was supposed to die.