How can I survive when I'm not supposed to exist?

I awoke at 5:59am, my alarm clock about to ring. For some reason I had the ability to beat my alarm clock when awakening, like I had a sixth sense about an alarm and I had a split second of notice before it happened. I reached over and turned my alarm off before it could pierce my so-far peaceful morning with its impatient whining. Unfortunately, waking up before my alarm clock wasn’t my only gift. I had an extraordinary talent for attracting danger. I was so used to having something go wrong that I looked out for it during the day. If nothing went wrong then I’d toss and turn in bed waiting for something to happen to me there. I only ever had two of those days. The first time it happened a tree crashed through the roof of my room and landed on my bed from a tornado just seconds after I decided to excitedly go look at my loose tooth for the millionth time in the mirror. The second time it happened the house caught on fire. My dad had heroically run back in to the house and saved me at the cost of crushing his hand from a falling rafter and losing an eye from the reverberating fire backlash.
It began to seem like things weren’t coincidences anymore. Mom and Dad would talk about my difficulties between themselves. Dad always kept it to himself, but I figured he thought it was more. Mom finally suggested we move and Dad agreed but I knew he knew that wouldn’t help anything. Having Dad say something like that only confirmed my thoughts that I was cursed.
None the less, we packed up our city house and moved to the beautiful and hopefully safe country side. The house we moved into was a massive house. It was the closest one Mom and Dad could get to the police station and fire department. They weren’t taking any chances. The hospital wasn’t too far either, it was just about two miles away. Much to my surprise they gave me a bedroom on the second floor of the house. I figured they’d give me one on the bottom floor laced with cushions lining the walls.
Dad helped me unpack my things. All was going well until I decided to make my bed. The one that came with the house was a huge four-poster queen sized bed. I was used to an air mattress in our apartment. I walked across my bed to tuck the first sheet in on the side. As I came back I tripped over a wrinkle in the sheet and fell to the floor. Dad caught me just before I hit the floor. He gave me an odd look and I smiled sheepishly at him. I forgot to mention I am also terribly clumsy, as if I didn’t have enough problems with invisible forces trying to get at me, clumsy-ness was another one to look out for.
I walked downstairs to see what else I could help unpack. I went into the kitchen and asked mom if I could help her unpack the utensils. I received a resounding almost yelled ‘no!’ from both of them. I was instructed to sit at the table and not get in trouble. I sighed and complied. I watched as mom and dad moved in perfect rhythm with each other, knowing how to avoid one another and not get in the other’s way. My mom was a beautiful woman with cascading red curls over her shoulders. She always had a nice slim waist and a serene personality. My father was quite handsome. I never knew much about his past, they never talked about it much, I just assumed he was a retired male model or something. Whenever I asked them how they met mom always just said he was ‘sent from above.’ I’d roll my eyes if they weren’t going to be serious. I eventually gave up asking and made up my own ideas about them.
They were completely and somewhat madly in love with each other. If anyone was meeting them for the first time they would probably believe they were newly weds. Though after 16 years with me and my problems it was seen as a good choice as to why I wasn’t graced with another sibling. I was too much trouble.
The move was easy for me, I hadn’t had too many friends in my last school. It was impossible to make friends with anyone when I was constantly risking my life just living. At first they tolerated me, even after admitting that if they were going to be friends with me they’d have to be careful because of the danger. They thought it was a joke until I began proving it right. We got in two car accidents within one week and both people were hospitalized. I broke my arm the first time and my ankle in the second car crash. After that I found walking to be far less hazardous, as well as not having friends. Apparently they thought the same.
I stood from my chair after all the knives and sharp utensils had been safely packed into the kitchen drawers. I would start school tomorrow so I decided to go get my outfit ready as I unloaded my suit cases into my closet. I didn’t know why I bothered to even look nice. I was going to try and keep friends away again. I sighed and just picked out a simple maroon button down shirt with jeans.
I went to bed soon after. Nothing bad had really happened today but sitting in a car all day made me tired so I soon found myself slipping into sleep without any trouble. I awoke with a start, the overslept. I had never done that before in my life. That meant I only had 15 minutes to get to school. I groaned. Why now, of all days did I have to wake up late? I figured this was going to be my one bad thing for the day. At least I got it over with in the morning.
I quickly pulled on my shirt and jeans. I ran into the kitchen, throwing caution to the wind. I didn’t have anything to worry about now that my trouble was out of the way. I skidded to a halt and ended up knocking a whole box of spoons and cookie cutters to the floor. They clattered and clanged all around. My father appeared way before my mother did. He was still in his pajamas and hadn’t put his glass eye in. It looked as though he had run from the room. Relief crossed his face as he saw it was just spoons. Mom appeared wrapping her house coat around her, her hair in disarray.
“Sorry.” I said uprighting the box which only had two spoons left in it. I began to pick them up from the floor.
“Oh honey-“ mom said, exasperated. She didn’t look like she was about to say anything else. She just walked over to me and bent to the ground to help me pick up the spoons and cookie cutters.
“Why don’t you just head to school, dear.” Mom said, “David- why don’t you go with her.”
“No- no, it’s fine. I am completely capable of walking to school.” I said, though I had no intention of walking. Mom and dad exchanged glances. If waking up late was a coincidence, knocking the box over without even touching it was even more of a reason to not be scared. I was so sure that I hadn’t hit it. TO prove my point I headed for the door before dad could even get dressed and replace his eye. I was out the door before they could stop me.
I remembered them pointing out the school as we drove past it on our way to the house. If I ran I knew I could probably make it and be only about five minutes late. I ran to the end of our property and into the little town. Some people were out taking a morning stroll while others were walking dogs or watering plants. I ran past them while trying to pull my hair back into a frizzy ponytail. I passed a woman pulling hard on the leash of her unruly bulldog. He was snarling and angry. It made me wonder why people even liked those kinds of creatures. Just then the dog broke loose from the woman and began to dash after me. Great this was going to be one of those days where everything went wrong. Maybe it would have been safer to have my dad come along. For some reason nothing bad happened to me when my dad was around unless it was my own clumsy-ness. I ran at top speed to keep my legs from the snarling slobbering jaws of the angered dog. I rounded a corner and nearly slammed into a large white moving van type object. The dog slid across the ground a bit trying to turn the corner as quickly as I had. I looked back to see my distance from him. When I looked forward I saw what the moving van was for. Movers were raising a piano to the top floor of someone’s home.
I didn’t know if I should slow down and risk getting eaten alive by a mad dog or keep up my speed and run into one of the men lifting the piano. Before I could make up my mind one of the men turned and saw me coming. He let go of the rope to warn me not to come any closer but my clumsiness decided to kick in and I tripped over my feet falling directly under the piano which was now falling because the man let go.
I was frozen where I was. I felt the dog clamp on to my foot as I struggled to move but the piano fell closer. SO this was my demise? I was killed because we moved to get away from the danger but found a way to get into more trouble than it was worth. We should have just stayed put. I screamed as the pain of the dog bite and sense of immenent doom washed over me. Just before the piano hit something jerked me painfully around the middle and out of harm’s war. We landed on the ground and whoever was my savior stayed on top of me while piano pieces crunched and flew from all directions overhead. My heart was racing as I heard the clamour of broken strings scrape across the sidewalk. The person on top of me didn’t move until the movers began growning at the mess.
Suddenly the weight was lifted off of me and I was soon pulled to my feet. I dusted myself off and looked over to see my savior. A beautiful blond haired boy was there staring at me. I would have thanked him for rescuing me but I found that my mouth lost the ability to hold itself together and it was hanging open. My mind was a complete blank and I feared I might start drooling if I couldn’t compose myself.
There was a low yelp from around the piano and I remembered the dog. I looked over feeling bad that even a vicious dog like that could have gotten hurt because of me. The dog pulled himself from a bit of the rubble, looking only as though a few pieces had fallen on him. His owner rounded the corner in tears and her dog limped pathetically towards her. People began sticking their heads out of the windows and doors form the commotion. I looked back over to the boy but he was gone. Great, now I couldn’t thank him, but why would he risk his life to save me? I looked around to see him, wanting to glance once more at the face that made me stop dead in my tracks. Bells began ringing off in the distance and I remembered school.
The men came over to me, “Are you all right? At one minute you were under the piano- and the next you were way over here?” They sounded exasperated but relieved.
“Yeah- that boy saved me- but he’s gone. Speaking of gone- I need to get to school. Bye now!” I got back to my feet and ran the rest of the way to school without any more problems.