Cerita Pendek & Novel Golden Finger Imagination

The day before the SAT, strange comments suddenly appear before my eyes. "In a while, your childhood friend, Savannah Dunham, will come to you complaining about a stomachache. She will ask you to accompany her to the restroom. "She'll give birth there, then accuse you of being the baby's father. Since you'll be at the scene and she'll personally identify you as the father of the baby, the police will arrest you on the spot. By the time the truth comes out, you'll have already missed the SAT." The very next moment, Savannah clutches her stomach and grabs my arm. "Benny, my stomach hurts. Can you come to the restroom with me?" Every word she says and every move she makes matches the comments exactly. Then, another comment appears. "Her boyfriend is Michael Crowley, the one who always comes second. If you miss the SAT, Michael will become the top scorer this year." I shake off Savannah's hand immediately. "I'm sorry. Ms. Kirkland asked to see me. She said there's a problem with my exam admission pass. You'll have to go by yourself."

Lucifer told me my time wasn't up yet and that I shouldn't have died here. The problem was, I'd already died three times. And every single time, it happened after I got married. My first wife was a powerful leather factory owner from out west. But she had a crippling gambling addiction. After blowing through all her assets and my entire life savings, she let the debt collectors cut off three of my fingers to cover her debts. I ended up bleeding to death. My second wife was a respectable, glasses-wearing university professor. She even beat me with class, leaving no bruises and never hitting me in the face. I died from ruptured internal organs. My third wife was a quiet, blue-collar welder. I thought things would finally be good between us after we married. However, she just stood by while her mother, who despised me for being poor, humiliated and controlled my life. When my liver condition flared up, they blocked me from getting medical help, and I died of acute liver failure. I begged Lucifer in tears to give me a few different options. But Lucifer just said firmly, "Your destined wife is one of these three women. It's up to you to make it work. Pick one. Now." I was at a loss for words.

Ever since I was a kid, I noticed a pattern: I made a wish, my adopted sister got double. She stole everything from me. Even my biological mother treated her like royalty. Until her 99th pool party show-off. I stopped playing the silent, good girl. I made a new wish. "I want a hot date with a wild 26-year-old rocker." The next day, a smelly 52-year-old ex-con stalked her and groped her right in our living room. I made another wish. "I want to lose 10 pounds." Mia worshipped her pristine Size 0 figure. A twenty-pound drop would kill her. My father dropped his dignity and fell to his knees by my heels, sobbing: "Please, stop wishing!" I looked down at him and smirked coldly: "I wish to forfeit six hours of sleep every night. For art. For inspiration." My adopted sister went completely insane on the spot.

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

After my husband got his cheat ability, the very first thing he did was kick me out. His family threw me out by the scruff, and used my precious, life-saving money to hoard as much ice and cold drink as he could. He threw every single article of thick clothes and blankets, swearing to build the strongest ice oasis in the heatwave, but only I knew that there would be a brief period of extreme heat before the long ice age. All the ice they hoarded would only make them die faster. Later, I sat in my private villa, enjoying delicious food while I watched that scumbag's family beat each other bloody over dry bread.

"Honey, I cut my finger. It hurts so much!" I had just sent Perry Clayton a photo of the shallow cut on my index finger when a barrage of comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: [I can't stand this whiny supporting character. The male lead is a CEO worth twenty billion dollars, and she bothers him over a tiny cut.] [Our girl starts working at his company tomorrow. Once he sees how strong and understanding she is, he'll dump his wife in a heartbeat.] [Later, this drama queen refuses to divorce him, keeps pestering him, and even frames our girl. In the end, he breaks her arms and legs and locks her up in a psychiatric hospital.] The vicious words filled my vision, and I clenched my fingers in anger. Just then, Perry rushed in from outside and grabbed my hand, fear still written in his eyes. "Thank goodness it's only a scratch. Honey, what were you trying to cut? I'll do it for you."