“I turned twelve the day Jibrael died.”
“I’ve been twelve for five years now.”
The truck didn’t brake.
Didn’t swerve.
Didn’t care.
Jibrael’s hand was so warm when I grabbed it.
His fingers twitched.
I thought—
maybe—
Then silence.
By the third loop: No more tears.
By the twentieth: Started counting.
By year five: Just watching.
I can save him
Maybe this time
The universe wants him dead.
“Jibrael always looks at me right before.”
“His eyes change—but they always find mine.”
Found under my mattress:
Death # | Method | Time | Details |
---|---|---|---|
1 | Truck | 8:14AM | First scream, warm hands |
27 | Drowning | 3:45PM | Lake water filled his lungs |
328 | Gas leak | 7:30AM | Smelled like rotten eggs |
… | … | … | … |
597 | Electrocution | 4:22PM | Saw his skeleton glow |
1,023 | Falling AC unit | 2:15PM | Crushed his chest instantly |
… | … | … | … |
1,826 | Light fixture | 8:17AM | He smiled first |
2,114 | Seizure | 9:05AM | Bit through his tongue |
… | … | … | … |
3,287 | Carbon monoxide | Overnight | Found him blue in bed |
TODAY | [empty] | [empty] | Pencil ready |
Tallies in the margins:
“How many times can a heart break?”
Didn’t get up.
Didn’t answer mom.
Didn’t text back.
8:17 AM — Door creaks anyway.
“Dude, you sick or something?”
SPARK
HISS
THUD
I count:
One Mississippi…
Two Mississippi…
My reflection shows:
The notebook keeps growing.
The deaths keep coming.
The screaming never stops.
Tomorrow:
Same bed.
Same posters.
Same doomed best friend.
“I used to try saving him.”
“Now I just memorize the exact blue of his sneakers.”
“Before they get stained red again.”
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