Decided that since I had some time before work today, I’d write a flash fiction based on the prompt below. Here goes!
Life has been one shitstorm after another. Born premature (three months in NICU, touch and go), always having accidents as a kid, failed classes in school no matter how hard I studied, fired from job after job after job … I used to think that I missed out on that “guardian angel” deal that some people claim to get.
After leaving the fortune teller tent at the carnival yesterday, I’m debating who’s more insane: the fortune teller for telling me I have a demon following my every move, or me for believing her.
It kinda makes sense. I mean, who has this much crappy luck by chance? Well I suppose if you look at it as “luck” then yeah, it’s chance by definition. Still, it’s got me wondering. Could I have some demon following me around, screwing up my life? I haven’t decided if that’s a comforting thought or not. On the one hand, I feel less like a loser with the knowledge that it’s possibly a demon that’s been causing all my hardships and not just my winning personality. On the other hand, it’s a freakin’ demon. Fuck my life.
The fortune teller also said something about it being a mistake, some kind of error on the part of whoever in the universe is responsible for handing out those guardian angels. I guess it’s not God who does that ’cause he’s, like, infallible, right? So there must be some dear departed soul who has to sort through all the kids about to be born and pick the right angel to suit them.
I guess I don’t blame him/her/it. Think about it: your job for the afterlife is to dole out the guardian angel jobs. You’ve got to look at the person’s future and see how strong of an angel they’re going to need. Smart kid, good soul, they’re not gonna need a super angel or anything. Joe Schmo guardian angel probably will do. Accident prone morons probably need an angel with a little more work experience, one who can handle whatever life throws at the kid. With the sheer number of babies being born every day, I can see how hectic it can get.
How the hell a demon snuck in there though is beyond me. Maybe Guardian Angel Assignment Guy was just having a bad day. Maybe this “demon” that’s assigned to me had some kick-ass disguise. Who knows. Regardless, that fortune teller basically told me I’m fucked. Yay me.
I don’t know. I guess I’m kinda getting used to it. Apartment catches fire due to faulty wiring in my toaster? Point to you, demon. Fired because a customer didn’t understand how to work the computer I sold them? Eh. You could have been more creative there buddy. And the fall down the stairs because my double-knotted shoelaces came untied? Now that’s just plain juvenile, dude.
This demon is apparently one of those imp things; y’know, the kind that likes mischief? Yeah. I got that going for me.
Maybe the fortune teller was wrong. Maybe I’ve just got about the worst luck a person can get. Maybe it’s all in my head.
But that weird shadow in the mirror is starting to really creep me out.