Love, Lies, and a Fatal Countdown

Love, Lies, and a Fatal Countdown

Gavin

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I was born with a curse. That' s what my family called my ability to see the exact moment someone would die, a ticking red countdown above their heads. It started with Grandpa at the dinner table. "00:23:14" blinked above his head, then Dad, a year later, gone in a car crash. My mom was next, delivering my baby sister, Lily. "00:01:00" flashed as I hammered on the delivery room door, screaming for help. They died. All of them. And my family, my three older brothers, Liam, Ethan, and Noah, didn't see a grieving sister. They saw a monster. "You killed her," Liam spat, shoving me against the hospital wall after Mom' s death. "Just like you killed Dad and Grandpa." Ethan and Noah watched, their faces twisted with disgust as I crumpled to the floor. I wanted to explain, to scream that I tried to warn them, but the words were stuck. They left me there, abandoned at the hospital, taking their "miracle" sister, Lily, home. My childhood ended that day, replaced by a ghost-like existence in my own home. I lived in the attic, fed scraps, ignored by everyone while Lily was showered with love and affection. I just watched, an invisible scapegoat for their grief. But today, my eighteenth birthday, everything changed. I finally saw it-the blank space above my head, always empty, now glowed a stark, vibrant red. "24:00:00." My own countdown. A whole day. How generous. I bought a beautiful, white urn with a hand-painted lily. A small, bitter joke. I made them a farewell dinner, a feast of all their favorite foods, hoping they'd come, just once. But the house remained silent, empty. No one came. I called Liam, a desperate confession: "I\'m going to die. My countdown... it\'s almost at zero." He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You\'re still trying that trick? You think saying you\'re going to die is going to make us forgive you?" He hung up, leaving me in the crushing silence, alone with my cold feast and my relentless ticking clock.

Introduction

I was born with a curse.

That' s what my family called my ability to see the exact moment someone would die, a ticking red countdown above their heads.

It started with Grandpa at the dinner table. "00:23:14" blinked above his head, then Dad, a year later, gone in a car crash.

My mom was next, delivering my baby sister, Lily. "00:01:00" flashed as I hammered on the delivery room door, screaming for help.

They died. All of them. And my family, my three older brothers, Liam, Ethan, and Noah, didn't see a grieving sister.

They saw a monster.

"You killed her," Liam spat, shoving me against the hospital wall after Mom' s death. "Just like you killed Dad and Grandpa."

Ethan and Noah watched, their faces twisted with disgust as I crumpled to the floor.

I wanted to explain, to scream that I tried to warn them, but the words were stuck.

They left me there, abandoned at the hospital, taking their "miracle" sister, Lily, home.

My childhood ended that day, replaced by a ghost-like existence in my own home.

I lived in the attic, fed scraps, ignored by everyone while Lily was showered with love and affection.

I just watched, an invisible scapegoat for their grief.

But today, my eighteenth birthday, everything changed.

I finally saw it-the blank space above my head, always empty, now glowed a stark, vibrant red.

"24:00:00." My own countdown.

A whole day. How generous.

I bought a beautiful, white urn with a hand-painted lily. A small, bitter joke.

I made them a farewell dinner, a feast of all their favorite foods, hoping they'd come, just once.

But the house remained silent, empty.

No one came.

I called Liam, a desperate confession: "I\'m going to die. My countdown... it\'s almost at zero."

He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You\'re still trying that trick? You think saying you\'re going to die is going to make us forgive you?"

He hung up, leaving me in the crushing silence, alone with my cold feast and my relentless ticking clock.

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