My Short Stories

4. Death and I

   People always speculate how they will die. Whether they die in their sleep, or become a tragic murder victim. No one truly knows until the very end... except me.
I always seem to get visions; premonitions, a week before I will "die". And everyday until the time comes, I get that very same dream.
Sometimes it turns out that I die from chocking on my own vomit because of a nasty fever, or I die from a rock falling at just the right angle. One time, I ended up almost becoming the victim of a rapist who was too vicious for his own good... yeah, those dreams haunted me even after I put the sorry dude in jail...
You might be wondering when this all started. Well, it started on my 12th birthday, when I hit puberty... the first vision was strange to say the least. I was in class, and needed to use the restroom. So I went after asking permission, and died. I died when the loose ceiling fell upon me. I knew that school was old and practically in shambles, but never did I imagine that that would be the result if I didn't do anything.
Me being knew to all this, I didn't know what to think. So when the day came, I asked to use the restroom. I had been thinking about the dreams none stop, and couldn't get them out of my head. I needed a breather, so I resorted to heading the bathroom to rinse my face.
Thank goodness I noticed the ceiling caving before it actually fell due to my paranoia, otherwise I would have never been able to avoid the crumbling roof.
The school was close for a month for repairs after that...
Ever since then, I watched out for my dreams. The longest I have been without the visions was a whole month and a half. I thought they were finally over, that is until I had a dream of falling down a hill and drowning in the harsh river below.
That one was hard to avoid, considering I ended up falling down that hill. But I did manage to stay away from the large boulder that would have rendered me unconscious. I still fell into the river, but I swam out.
When I finally got home, dad had said for me to wash my clothes... he was upset with me and my clumsiness.
I started seeing death on my 14th birthday. He was so angry with not being able to take my soul to heaven, that he began to physically manifest in front of me. Of course, no one else saw him... I know because I asked...
When he showed up, he would always appear right after the incident that would lead to my death. He almost always had a scowl on his face. It made him look darker than he already was.
You know, I always imagined death to be some tall dude with bones and a scythe. But he's just an old midget with anger issues. He doesn't even have the cool scythe... I think.
But it doesn't make him look any less scary, especially with his beady black eyes. He reminds me of a malicious dirty rat.
Now that I think about it, I have been able to avoid death a million and more times. Death, he can try all he wants, but he can't get me...
   However, that would soon be proven wrong. I guess Death finally came up with a creative way to take me...
   It was my 16th birthday. I was finally old enough to date. To say I was eager would be an understatement. I had been surrounded by people already in relationships even in elementary school, and it was starting to make me envious.
   The day after my birthday, I somehow managed to find someone on a dating app. They wanted to meat almost immediately. That night, i got a dream of my death. It just showed me, surrounded by darkness, with a knife in my chest. I didn't have time to look up and see who had stabbed me before I woke up.
   Against my better judgement, I went on that stupid date the day of my death. I had suspicions it was my date, so I bought pepper spray and a knife of my own.
   They date went well for the most part, and I began to forget about the dream. He offered me a ride home, considering I had taken the bus and he was 17 years old. I stupidly did not decline his offer.
   Just as we were a block away from my neighborhood, I noticed that I was being followed. So instead of telling him to turn to the right and into my neighborhood, I told him to keep going. The car still followed.
   He caught me staring in the rear-view mirror. We shared a look and he pulled into a gas station. We thought it was a good idea to tell someone. Too bad the gas station was deserted. The occupants of the other vehicle rushed out and kidnapped us.
   My date had tried to protect me from them, but they were vicious and uncaring. We were tied to the interior of their car and beaten. He was on the opposite side of me, barely conscious, when one guy pulled out a knife.
   My hand were quite literally tied. I couldn't do anything. Somehow, just in time, I managed to get my knife out of my back pocket, and cut myself free. When the guy got close enough, I shot up and cut his arm. It was a long enough distraction. I pushed my way to my date, and defended him the best I could.
   That is, until I was stabbed. My date had stabbed me. I knew that I was already slipping...
   The last thing I heard was, "Finally. I was wondering when you would stop playing the 'protective boyfriend'."
   My death was on the news. They were arrested. Apparently, some guy at the gas station witnessed it and called the police. Guess it wasn't as barren as I thought...
   Weeks later, the police found out that the murderers were serial killers going around the country. They played with their victims love life before killing them...

Hey! I'm in Mexico right now! Yayyyy! Also, I hope this chapter satisfied you guys...