I hate my luck sometimes… scratch that, I hate my luck all the time.
"Damn it all."
A boy, about fourteen years old, was running through the rain after a school bus. His foot slipped, sending him face-first into a puddle.
Why am I not surprised? Fourteen years of this—bad luck follows me everywhere. Not a good start at all.
A car zoomed by, splashing him with dirty water.
Yup. Should've seen that coming.
His name was Leo Everlock, and if you asked anyone, they'd call him one thing: unlucky.
"Come on, just one day," Leo muttered. Then louder: "One day without rotten luck!"
When he pushed himself up, his cracked glasses dangled on his face. Sighing, he pulled out a black case from his pocket. Inside was a fresh pair.
It's ridiculous how many of these I go through. Doesn't anyone else find this concerning?
He swapped them out, only to notice something worse—his backpack had a hole in the bottom and a torn strap. Supplies were scattered across the ground: soaked notebooks, a drenched pencil case, and…
"No, no, no—" He picked up his laptop. The screen looked like it had been smashed with a brick.
"Aww, come on! Just one good thing, is that too much to ask?!"
Gathering what he could, Leo slung the ruined bag sideways.
Screw it. Missed the bus, may as well walk to school.
Five minutes later, still dripping wet, he stepped into the gas station.
"Rough morning, Leo?"
Behind the counter stood Sarah, a woman in her late twenties with curly brown hair tied up in a scrunchie, brown eyes, a hoodie, and a green apron.
"Oh, morning Sarah. And yeah… rough doesn't even begin to cover it."
She giggled and pointed to the back. "Go clean up before I charge you for dripping all over my floor."
"You'd really do it too," Leo muttered, heading for the bathroom.
But something felt… off. The store looked emptier than usual. Snacks gone. A fridge door left wide open, puddles on the floor.
Weird. Sarah's clumsy, sure, but not like this…
He shook his head and entered the bathroom.
It was spotless. Candles. Towels. Even magazines by the toilet. Seriously? The bathroom gets five-star treatment while the rest of the store looks like a dump?
As Leo searched for a way to dry his clothes, he found a blow-dryer under the sink.
"I swear she has everything."
"There's a secret switch by the toilet that unlocks a secret room," said a voice.
"Oh, thanks—" Leo froze.
In the mirror stood Sarah. She waved. "Yo."
"Yo my ass!" He covered himself with a towel. "What the hell are you doing spying on me?!"
"Thought you could use some help."
"I know how to use a bathroom by myself!"
"Relax. I just wanted to see if you'd accidentally fall into the toilet."
"Hell no!" He tapped the mirror, cutting her off.
What is wrong with her…
He dried his clothes, still damp but wearable, then leaned over the sink to wash his face. The motion sensor wouldn't work until—suddenly—it gushed water.
Figures. Now it wants to work.
But then came the giggle.
"Aww, isn't that cute," a feminine voice teased from the mirror.
"Sarah, knock it off."
"You're kinda cute, you know. Like a little snack."
"Uh… thanks? Weird choice of words though. When someone says 'snack' it usually mea—"
He looked up.
A pair of claws scraped against the mirror. A monstrous reflection leered at him, vanishing in a blink.
Leo stumbled back, heart pounding. What the hell was that?! A prank? Sarah's idea of a joke? No way…
He threw his clothes back on, grabbed his broken bag, and stormed out.
At the counter, Sarah pretended to whistle.
"Yeah, nice try," Leo said flatly. "That monster thing? Scared the crap out of me. Don't ever do that again."
"Monster?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Yeah, monster."
"…?" She stared at him, completely blank.
"Whatever. Can you fix these?" He dropped the laptop and bag on the counter. "Some of it's ruined. I'll leave it with you."
Sarah opened the laptop and gasped. "Ruined? Leo, this isn't a little—"
But he was already halfway out the door.
"Listen, I'm late for school. I'm counting on you!"
"Wait—!"
The bell above the door jingled. Sarah was left holding the wreck of a laptop, her face pale.