I remember the first time I saw it. Just hanging up there in the air making me think I was psychotic. I was fifteen years old and on my way home from a movie. I had decided to walk because it was such a nice night outside and I really didn't feel like rushing home. There was this old homeless man who had made himself comfortable in the entrance way of the general store. I glanced at him like I always do, scared that he would notice me and somehow guilt me into giving him my last few dollars. What I saw changed my life forever. Hanging up above his head was 6/10/05 and just below it was 9:38:32 pm. I stopped dead in my tracks and just stared at it for what seemed like hours. I just couldn't fathom why those two group of numbers were and why they were hanging above his head. "Hey assh'ole", shouted the homeless man. "What the hell do you want?" I just stared at him blankly. I hadn't noticed him wake up and didn't know what to say to him. "Are you the one who has been pissin on me while I've been sleeping???", he asked. "Um.. I, uh, no." Is all that managed to stumble out of my mouth. He stared straight into my eyes with those drunken, glazed over eyes of his while a cruel smile formed on his lips. Just then he jerked up and started stumbling towards me. I began backing away from him, thinking in my head, "Oh ****, is this really happening??" He was obviously drunk out of his mind and couldn't decide on which path to take to get to me. His clothes were stained with vomit, urine, and what I hoped to God was chocolate. The numbers above his head were swinging back in forth with him like they were welded to a metal pole sticking out of his head. They were hanging up there with a menacing glow that seemed to radiate off of them. I couldn't possibly explain this to the drunk old man fumbling his way towards me. He would think I was crazier than he was, and he would probably be right. He had covered such a seemingly long distance in a shorter amount of time than expected and was close enough to where I could smell alcohol hanging on his breath. This caused me to come crashing back down to Earth and the present situation I had found myself in. I quickly moved back and tripped off of the side walk, falling backwards on to the road. He hurried towards me while I scooted my ass towards the center of the road. Just as he was about to step off the sidewalk there was a loud honking of the car that was speeding towards us. I looked at it, then at him who hadn't seemed to notice and was beginning to bring his foot down. I was shocked as to what happened next. Just as he was as about to stumble into the middle of the road and towards his certain death, his cheeks puffed out and he threw up all over the sidewalk. The car sped past, the drive shouted some obsenities my way about being a something something idiot. I stood up and checked myself to make sure I was ok and looked at him. He was still throwing up when all of a sudden he jerked up, spun around, and grabbed his chest. He crumpled to the concrete still holding his chest where his nonbeating heart was. I slowly walked over to him, shocked at what just happened. He laid completely still, eyes closed, with his hand still grabbing his heart. I poked him with my shoe a few times with my shoe and quickly called an ambulance. I couldn't believe what had just happened right before my very eyes. It was the first time I had seen someone die before, but it would certainly not be the last. The ambulance, police, and fire department arrived pretty quickly and did all that was in their power to bring him back to no avail. I sat with my arms crossed on the sidewalk and my head laying on them when I heard one of the officers shout to his partner. "Hey Vinnie," he yelled. "What was the date and time of death?" His partner looked up from flirting with one of the cute ambulance drivers, obviously annoyed. "June 10, 2005," he said rather pissed off, "The time was 9:38 pm." I looked up and glanced at the numbers still hanging above the old man's head. I still had no idea really what they meant. It wasn't until the third or fourth time it happened that I really understood that my life had been changed forever.
Over the years I managed to figure a few things out about the hanging numbers that had cursed me for so long. The first thing I learned was that it was exact to the very hour, minute, and second. There was never an error. The second thing I learned was that it shows up as early as one week prior to the exact time of death. I learned that when I was on a date with a girl I had just met. Everything was going great with us. She was laughing at all my stupid jokes and I was even managing to ignore all the numbers hanging around in the restaurant. Then without warning the numbers appeared above her head. I just slumped back in my chair and finished the date so I could just go home and drown my sorrows in booze and Halo. Ever since then I learned to not get too attached to anyone because I never knew when the numbers would show up. They just did. The third thing I learned the hard way I guess you could say. It was towards the end of my first year or so with the numbers and it was driving me insane. Everywhere I went, there they were. Mocking me with their luminescent glow. It got to the point where I would just avoid looking up all together. I would hurry past people with my eyes aimed at my feet trying to avoid them. Then one day I just got sick of it. I decided that if I was going to be stuck with this my entire life then I was going to do all I could to prevent some of these deaths from happening. I quickly looked around for who the next person closest to death was. My eyes darted over each head in my vicinity when they stopped right above this young woman. She couldn't have been any older than twenty. She was gorgeous to the extreme with her dark brown eyes and flowing brown hair. She wasn't very tall but her body was amazing. You could tell she had worked hard on it and that all her hard work was paying off. My eyes slowly made their way up to the numbers hanging just above her head. They said she would die on February 8, 2007 at 4:52:36 in the morning. I instantly became determined to thwart those numbers if it was the last thing I did and I only had one day to do it. My plan was simple, stalk her like crazy and if something happened that would endanger her then I would try to prevent it. I already knew what time it would occur so all I really had to do was follow her and hope no one called the police on me for being a creep. My plan was going pretty great and I had followed her home without her noticing. I was parked just outside her house and was reading a book when I started to feel like it was getting to be around the time she was suppose to die. I looked down at my watch which read 12:30 am. There is no way it's that early, I thought. That's when I noticed that the second hand had stopped moving altogether. "****!" I said as I rushed out of my car. I hurried across her yard with the speed of a first round draft pick running back. Tripping over this stupid, plastic, pink flamingo standing in the middle of her yard. Who the hell owns one of these, I thought to myself. I arrived at her door and started beating on it like a mad man. That's when I heard a scream and a crash along with a bunch thuds as if someone was falling down the stairs. I stopped and looked through a window that was beside the door. There she was, laying down at the bottom of the stairs. Her body was all broken and contorted into a weird shape. Her neck was bent back and her face was staring right at me. I got sick to my stomach but somehow managed to hold everything in. I will never forget that look that was on her face. It was a look of shock mixed with excruciating pain. It wouldn't have been so bad I don't think if it hadn't of been on such a beautiful face. And there they were. Those damn numbers just hanging above her head. Mocking me. Obnoxiously saying that I was a failure and that I shouldn't have tried to save her. I was the reason she died. After that night I decided to just avoid any kind of personal contact with those that had numbers marking them for death at all costs. What was the point of talking to the dead? It would be the same as having a conversation with a corpse. Utterly pointless.
I've gotten kind of use to the numbers now. I've even began calling them The Death Clock. It never surprises me anymore like it did during my first few years. Now I just accept them as a part of my life. I still have no idea as to how all this happened though and I don't think I'll ever find out. I ask myself everyday why I was cursed with this knowledge of death that no one in their right mind would ask for. It's everywhere I go. I can't walk into a store without seeing at least one person with a Death Clock hanging over their head. One time I even tried throwing a rock at someone's numbers just to see what would happen but I missed and hit them in the shoulder. That was also the first time I got my ass kicked. All I could do was let him hit me. I figured he needed it seeing as how he was going to die soon. I've began working as a telemarketer which suits me fine because I rarely have to see someone with numbers hanging over their head at work. The worst part about this is knowing when a person is going to die. They may be having the best day of their life right now or getting laid but if the numbers say they'll be dead in an hour then that's it. That's what hurts me the most. And then that day came. The day I had been dreading ever since these damn numbers appeared. The day had started like any other. I woke up at 5:45 am, brushed my teeth, took a shower, got dressed, and then left for work. Work was more or less the same as always. Got yelled at by two old ladies, cussed out by a college kid with a hangover, and to top it off I was threatened by some jerk with a complex. I got off work at 5 in the afternoon, picked up some Chinese from the nearest take out spot, tipped the guy at the register extra because he only had about a day left, got home, put the food in the fridge, and jumped in the shower. After my shower I dried off and walked over to the bathroom sink and mirror. As I was looking at myself in the mirror I noticed my worst fear coming to a realization. There in the mirror, appearing before my very eyes was what I had secretly hoped I'd go blind before seeing. "Damnit," I mumbled to myself.
10/25/2010. 10:37:54 pm. That's what I saw staring back at me in the mirror hanging above my head. My knees felt weak. My stomach was churning. My heart was pounding. My face had gone pale with fear. My skin was as white as a ghost. I just couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that it was my time to die. That I had only a week left of this life that I haven't even really gotten started yet. Then all at once all my color returned. I was now flushed with anger. "No!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this bull ****!" I punched the mirror has hard as I could. I didn't want to look at those damn numbers anymore. I spent three hours tearing apart every piece of that small, one bedroom apartment that I had worked so hard to get. I finally passed out underneath all the splinters and stuffing of my once decent looking furniture. When I finally woke up I was one day closer to death and more depressed than any man should be. I looked around my apartment and there they were reflecting in my window. Those damn numbers. I was contimplating on how I was going to smash that window into a million people when a loud grumbling noise made me jump out of my skin. It took me a second to realize that it was my stomach making all the noise. I got up and made my way over to the fridge to see if my Chinese food was still good. Sadly, it wasn't. Awesome, I thought to myself, now I have to go out and get something else. I jumped in my car and went to the nearest restaurant I could find. I was barely conscience while I was driving but somehow I made it safely. Can I die before my time, I thought to myself. I looked up at the building about 50 yards away from where I was parked. It was made of solid concrete and it had to be at least three feet thick. It was a straight shot to the building if I stayed on the street. I revved my engine up and looked to make sure no one was coming across the street. I was determined not to take anyone elses life if I was going to do this. I pushed down on the accelerator as low as it could go and screeched down the road. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest as I got closer and closer to the wall. At 25 yards away I began holding my breath, anticipating the crash. At 10 I could already feel my eyes fogging over and my heart losing control. Then I felt the union of concrete and metal and heard the breaking of glass and brick. My body was being lurched forward and smashed back against the seat. There was glass, dirt, concrete, and metal flying everywhere. Then everything faded to black....
I woke up in the driver seat with a splitting headache. As I looked around I noticed that all the windows were busted and there was a giant hole where the wall use to be. My car was completely totalled. Apparently, seatbelts really do save lives. I unbuckled it and stumbled out of my car, faceplanting on the cement. I picked myself up off the ground and dusted my clothes off. That's when I noticed that besides having this monstrous headache, there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. I ran over to my car and looked in the rearview mirror to see if the numbers were still there. They were. They hadn't changed at all. They were still hanging there taunting me. "Damn numbers," I mumbled to myself. I began my long walk home with my head hung low and my feet dragging the ground. When I finally got home I collapsed on the couch, or what use to be the couch until Hurricane Me decided to destroy it. I just layed there, looking up at the ceiling wondering what I should do next. I had less than 6 days left to live and I had no idea how I would spend them. "I guess I'll just have to wing it." I said loudly. The first two days of my "winging it" period went by pretty quick. I finished a few models I had been working on, paid some bills, went running, finally finished a Rubix Cube, and beat every Xbox 360 game I could. With only three days left of being alive I decided to just take a long walk and enjoy the cool air and the thought of being alive. I walked for miles just watching the animals and people. Some with numbers and some with out. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself and think how ignorant these people were of how short their lives really are. It was around 9 pm when I finally made it back towards town so I decided to go to this bar I had been itching to go to since even before this all started. When I walked in my eyes were bombarded with gorgeous women. I just couldn't believe it. Where are all these women from and why have I not seen them in town before? I passed a few on the way to the bar and they smiled at me and looked me up and down. I have to say that that was one of the funnest nights of my life. I drank, danced, got into a skirmish, and flirted with every girl in that bar. This was living. This was what I had been missing out on these past few years. I vowed to spend the next day exactly like I spent this one. To the extreme and beyond it if I could. And I did. I was truly living life how I wanted to those 4 days. And then it came. The day I had been dreading in my heart that entire week. The day I was supposed to die.
I decided to go about my day as usual. I went about my normal morning routine. Woke up, ate some cereal, brushed my teeth, shower, then put on my finest suit. If I'm going to die then I'm doing it in fashion, I thought to myself. I walked to work, stopping to smell every flower And petting every dog along the way. Work went by surprisingly fast today, but isn't that how it usually is? The day always goes by faster when there is something at the end that you are dreading. I spent alot of my day wondering how it would happen. Would I choke on a piece of hamburger? Get shot in a gang war? Or would a giant safe fall on me from the sky like in those old cartoons? That thought made me chuckle. I didn't write out a will because I had nothing and no one left. My parents died when I was young. I had no siblings or pets or kids. I had no girlfriend or even a prospect. I had spent most of my life alone. And oh how much I regretted it now. I wish I had gotten to know as many people as I could. Whether they had numbers or not. I wish I could start my life over but I can't. You only get one shot in life, and I ruined mine. I spend the entire afternoon and evening at the park. I'm still sitting there by the time 10:35 pm rolls around. "Help!", cries a woman's voice. I look around and see her being robbed at gunpoint by some trash. "Just give me your purse, *****!", the man yells. I run over to them and yell at him, "Hey leave her alone!" He just stares at me blankly. He grabs her purse and starts to run off but I tackle him to the ground. We are still rolling around when the gun goes off. I feel an immense pain in my chest. I roll off of him because I can't breathe. The woman is screaming as I see the man run off. Everything is muffled now. I look up to see those damn numbers hanging above my head. With me to the end, I thought. It's too hard for me to breathe so I stop. The numbers are barely recognizeable now. The only reason I know they are still there is because there glow is luminating my face. I close my eyes for the last time. My heart gives it's last beat. Everything fades away....