This isn't really a spectactular story to anyone who ever reads it. It isn't actually suppose to be spectactular to myself, however, I fawn over it too much, way too much for the past, so it is worth some value, right?
It all really started a week ago, however, whatever happened a week ago led up to this, for it is quiet obvious after all the fragments of the situation are put together.
I was in the back seat of my father's car, my sister beside me, his girlfriend riding up front. We were just talking, not really much, since we weren't really up to it.
I hate when it goes like that- just plain silence. It unnerves me, making me feel I must speak otherwise I am a very bad person. When I start talking I end up ranting on about random subjects, and I end up shutting up again. It is just a circle that goes on and on, and to tell the truth, it gets annoying. It happened that night as well, so I thought of something we could speak of.
"Oh yeah, guess what? I'm learning how to read the tarot cards! I even have a book for it!"
Beside me my sister just laughed, as she always did after hearing me say that, however, she still asked "Will you read my future when you learn how to read them?"
Of course I would, to tell the truth, but I pretended to think about it, eventually shrugging, the love of annoying my sister great.
My dad and girlfriend didn't really say much about it, so I began to rant on about what they mean, what type of packs they were- everything.
Soon after I began talking about reading the future, my dad turned round to me. He didn't look at me as if he was angry or anything, no. He stared at me with grief striken blue irises, not wanting to hear his own daughter talk about the future.
"Don't mess with the future." was all he said before we went on with the silence.
That night, I could not help but pout, thinking "Tarot card readins aren't messing with the future...".
Still, I got his point.
A week ago from that day, my thirty year old cousin died after a cardic arrest. They brought him to a hospital when they found him, tried to get him back up and running, but the dead can never come back.
He had a future. He had a girlfriend. He had a daughter. A sister. A brother. A mother. A grandmother. A nephew. An uncle. Six aunts. Around thirty something cousins. A good job. Good friends.
He had a future. Yet, it was taken away from him.
As the car pulled up to the drive, I could not help but wish that if I could ever mess with anyone's future...
I would have mended Worzy's.