I've always known there was something different about me. Something horribly wrong. While other kids had pet guinea pigs, I played with stuffed animals, because all my pets had met horrible ends. Fluffy the rabbit? A speeding car lost control and ran over her hutch. Pete the snake? Eaten by the lawnmower. Eventually my mom just bought me inanimate toys to play with. Everything I touched died. When I was in eighth grade, my first sweetheart bought me flowers. They withered and died in my hands. I disappeared into my headphones. Music was the only thing that could comfort me. And when tragedy struck, I set out on my own, determined not to hurt anyone else. But when a stranger stops me from doing the unthinkable, everything changes. He isn't scared of me. He won't leave me on my own, even though I give him all the usual warnings. He says he knows how to help, that he believes me. He's a fool. But there's a remedial for every curse, right? What if he's the only one who can save me?