Famer's Story-Writing Debate Round #1 Zaradi vs. Drafterman

-- Five Years Ago -- “ Three… two… one…” The elevator next to me dinged and the doors opened. Greg and Hank groaned and left the elevators they had claimed, each pulling out their wallets to hand over their hard lost cash. “How do you always do that?” I managed to force a smile. Under any other circumstances I’d be glad to take their money. Guessing which elevator would open first was a game we always played whenever we were in a building. It was a game I always won. This time I just wish it wasn’t the elevators at the hospital. We stepped inside and pressed the button for the fourth floor. ICU. Intensive Care Unit. How can I manage to always guess correctly? I really can’t say. I’ve always had an intuition about such things. You know the phrase, ‘He was in the right place at the right time’? Yeah, that’s me. I’m the guy that’s always in the right place at the right time. More importantly, I’m never the guy that’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. If something good is about to happen, I’ll be there and, chances are, it’ll be happening to me. If something bad is going down, I’m miles away. I never considered that there was something special about me. I just had a knack for guessing when things would happen. I’d know exactly when to gun the car as the light turned green. I’d be the first out the door when the bell at the end of class rung. The best part was, I always knew when the starter gun would go off and was the first to start down running down the track. Never had a single false start. People always just called me lucky. I really couldn’t argue with them. There wasn’t anything specific I was doing, so it wasn’t skill. I wasn’t particularly good at anything, so it wasn’t talent. But the consistency that I was “lucky” always nagged me. Was there someone else that was just as unlucky? Or, worse, did I have a cache of bad luck just waiting to catch up with me? These bouts of luck had been happening as long as I could remember, but it was only recently I decided to start testing it systematically. About a year ago I started subtly suggesting certain games with my friends. Drop a ruler and see if I could catch it, the slap-hands game. I couldn’t lose. It’s like there is this timer in my head. If I focus on some event, the timer counts down. When it reaches zero, the event happens. I’m not making the event happen, I just know how long till it happens on its own. After those kid’s games, we started to make it interesting. I’d bet them when a certain number would come up on the roll of a die or draw of a card. I’d have them set egg timers to various durations and they’d bet me I couldn’t predict when it would go off. And, of course, there was our elevator game. I couldn’t say how much money I’ve taken from them. When I was satisfied that I could accurately predict these things, I started raising the stakes even more. Instead of catching a dropped ruler, I had them drop steak knives over my outstretched hand – with my eyes closed. They were reluctant at first but when I poured enough of my dad’s liquor down their throats, they were willing to do anything. Well, almost anything. The height was train dodging. No amount of alcohol could give them enough courage to come with me on this one, so I had to go it alone. I spent the entire night standing on the tracks. Aside from the obvious, lingering on train tracks is especially dangerous because the speed of the train is deceptive. It approaches a lot faster than people ever realize. That wasn’t a problem for me; I always knew how fast the train was going. Obviously I was never wrong, or I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. The only thing that stopped me was when the cops arrived. Apparently someone had tipped them off that some fool was trying to get himself killed. I guess it was good that I was long gone by the time they got there. I wish I could say that this part of my story had a happy ending. When you can predict any event, it gives you a sense of invincibility. I believed that nothing could harm me. The problem was, I stopped thinking about other people. Like I said, I never thought of myself as special, so I forget that others can’t do what I can. It’s a selfish, stupid excuse, I know, but it’s the truth. I guess that brings me back to this hospital, with me, Greg, and Frank riding up the elevator to the ICU. The lingering amusement from our game down on the ground floor is long gone. Their reactions were probably as forced as mine was. We’re going to visit my father. He was involved in a rather horrific car accident. He was hit by a car as he was trying to cross the street. On top of that … it was my fault. We live close enough to the school that it was within a feasible walking distance. Every week or so dad would come by and we’d walk home together, taking in the scenery, shooting the sh!t. Father-son stuff. There’s a somewhat busy road we have to cross and, one day, without thinking, I just darted across. Dodging cars is nothing when you’re used to trains. I didn’t even think about the fact that this would scare the sh!t of my father. When I heard him yell I turned around and… Well, knowing when any event is going to happen doesn’t matter if you can’t get there fast enough to stop it. All you can do is sit there and watch. Specifically, sit there and watch your father get mowed down by a sports car as he’s running after you because he thinks that you’re the one in danger. We get to the floor and sign in at the nurse’s desk and head to his room. When we arrive, he’s gone; The room’s empty. I page for the nurse who then gets the doctor. I pace nervously until the doctor arrives and takes me to his office. “Alex, I’m afraid there’s been a complication…” As the doctor explains to me that some bullsh!t complication has resulted in my father’s death the room starts to spin and I fall out of my chair. More than just the death of my father, this is the first time that something has genuinely taken me by surprise. The doctor patiently waits for me to stop vomiting into his trash before continuing, but I’m not listening anymore. My thoughts turn back to me and how I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t see death. I can’t see death.