• I woke up this morning with six hours, eight minutes, and twenty-nine seconds counting down on my wrist. This was something I hadn’t expected, as the night before it read eight more years. I hadn’t had enough time to shave, either, so I would look like a hairy mess when the most exciting moment of my life came to be.

    School. That was where it would happen. Of course, the most exciting moment of my life would be in a dull and boring hell. It only goes to show how exciting I am of a person. But now, six hours later, with eight minutes and twenty-nin- eight seconds clicking down on my wrist, those thoughts were gone, replaced by anxiety, paranoia, and nervousness.

    It could be the love of my life saying “Hello”. It could be my worst enemy coming from the dark, ready to kill. It could be anything, so long as it changed my life. Seven minutes left, and the lunch bell rang. For some odd reason, though, I didn’t want to go to lunch. I wanted to wander the halls, to go to the library, to just stay away from the lunch room.

    Course, I’d only regret it, seeing how it’d be the only, and first thing, I’d eat today. With a solemn expression, five minutes fourty-seven seconds, I trailed behind the group, but still managed to reach the lunchroom with the lines half a kilometer long. Three minutes, nine seconds.

    My hand unconsciously rubbed my wrist, as if it were trying to rub the clock away, to speed the process. The only use it had was to make the clock begin to burn, to make it hurt and make me want to scream. With twenty seconds left, my eyes began to search the cafeteria, looking no where in particular, looking at everything around me.

    Five seconds left, and a stranger began walking up to me. My eyes grew wide, and I wanted to walk to him too. The stranger reached into his backpack as I began to smile. “This is a shooting.”

    The bullet entered my chest, shot from a gun inside of his backpack.

    The most exciting point in my life would be my death.