I’ve always known I was different, because no matter what (or how hard) I try, I can’t seem to change things. I come to a fork in the road, and desperately want to go left, but the world seems to spin and melt around me and I end up going right. Someone is controlling me. My life. My world.

I used to think it was normal. But then I tried to tell my friends. They laughed and made fun of me. They even accused me of lying, and called me crazy. They told me I was taking a game way too far and scaring them. I haven’t told anyone about it since then.

Sometimes I get a heads up about what’s going to happen- whoever’s writing my story is terrible at subtle foreshadowing. Like the time Devon was going to break up with me. He completely ghosted me and was being so sneaky that I practically laughed when he told me the news. He was so dramatic about it, taking my hands in his and looking me deep in the eyes. He even shed a tear. I was almost bursting at the seems, so I had to run off and hope he thought I was heartbroken. Now whenever he sees me, he looks at me with pity and a weak smile.

Sometimes this curse has been useful. I can always hear people gossiping about me. A very stupid dramatic effect if you ask me, but it’s helped me escape some toxic friendships. If I hadn’t heard Riley telling Chris about that time I wore a white skirt and got my period, I would never have known that she was a total bitch. Other times, it makes me feel like I’m going crazy. Some nights before I fall asleep I say a prayer that I’ll wake up in a hospital room and they’ll tell me I’ve been in a coma for the past decade. But I’m never that lucky.

Instead of having nightmares about my teeth falling out, I dream of my author reaching the last page... I know it has to happen eventually, but I’m hoping I get a happy ending. Or at least a swift one. I don’t want to get some horrible disease and waste away just to be the motivation for some fake friend character to turn their life around in this worst-selling novel.

I’m on my way home, but something seems off. It seems... natural. Does my creator know that I’m self aware? What effect would that have on this tale?

I don’t have to wonder for long. The sun sets, and in the clouds I see a phrase that stops me dead in my tracks and fills me with dread:

The End.