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Fated Mishaps
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Chapter 1:- Prologue
Life is like a box of chocolate...you never know what you're going to get. Unless you're smart enough to buy a box of chocolate of the same variety...or keep the map that tells you which chocolate is which. –Anonymous
If I had known I would be facing death so soon, there would’ve been a lot of things I’d have done. I would have kissed my mother goodbye, something I haven’t done in five years. But she had already gone to work when I woke up this morning. I would have wanted to kiss my dad too, but seeing as he died when I was young, I’ve never really had the chance to. Maybe after tomorrow I will.
Even though I’m scared out of my mind, that little thought reassures me a bit.
I never really gave much thought to how I would die. I always assumed it would be all snug in my bed when I was the ripe old age of eighty-six, give or take a few years. You know, the standard being surrounded by my family and friends, there to hold my hand as I went quietly.
I know it sounds like the ending of a bad old movie but that’s how I wanted to go. I certainly never considered the possibility of being burned at the stake. Who would ever think that? Certainly not a sixteen-year-old girl from New York City whose biggest concern this morning was whether or not she should order a pizza for dinner.
Now as I sit here, stomach rumbling from hunger and anxiety, I wish I had. I wish a lot of things.
Life is like a box of chocolate...you never know what you're going to get. Unless you're smart enough to buy a box of chocolate of the same variety...or keep the map that tells you which chocolate is which. –Anonymous
If I had known I would be facing death so soon, there would’ve been a lot of things I’d have done. I would have kissed my mother goodbye, something I haven’t done in five years. But she had already gone to work when I woke up this morning. I would have wanted to kiss my dad too, but seeing as he died when I was young, I’ve never really had the chance to. Maybe after tomorrow I will.
Even though I’m scared out of my mind, that little thought reassures me a bit.
I never really gave much thought to how I would die. I always assumed it would be all snug in my bed when I was the ripe old age of eighty-six, give or take a few years. You know, the standard being surrounded by my family and friends, there to hold my hand as I went quietly.
I know it sounds like the ending of a bad old movie but that’s how I wanted to go. I certainly never considered the possibility of being burned at the stake. Who would ever think that? Certainly not a sixteen-year-old girl from New York City whose biggest concern this morning was whether or not she should order a pizza for dinner.
Now as I sit here, stomach rumbling from hunger and anxiety, I wish I had. I wish a lot of things.
