It started with me giving a piece of candy to the homeless guy outside the bodega.
I was with my brother, and handed him an atomic fireball on our way out. That was my favorite candy when I was 8. He thanked me, called me a good kid, and said he’d grant me one wish.
My brother had just beaten me in every single game we’d played that day: from bike racing to breath holding to monopoly. I was tired of losing, tired of always being called the “loser little brother,” and so I easily said,
“I want to win at everything. I don’t want to lose ever again.”
I was a kid. I didn’t know what that meant. But it didn’t take long for me to begin to learn the consequences of my wish when my brother took off in the crosswalk during a green light, shouting behind him, “Bet you I can make it across the street in front of that car.” And he didn’t. I don’t even know why. It’s like he froze in place until the car hit him. That’s how it started.
Since that day, all prophecies have become self-fulfilling. Every guess is the right one. Every bet ends in my favor. I don’t have to wonder about the outcome of anything.
Do you know how many guesses you make per day? How often you gauge the probability of things without even realizing it?
The thing about winning is that, when it happens all the time, you’re acutely aware that someone else must lose. Even the smallest “wins” can have big consequences.
Once, when I still used to work, I wanted the last doughnut out of the box in the office breakroom. I guess someone else wanted the same because when he stood, his knee abruptly dislocated. No way to walk across the room and get a doughnut if you can’t walk.
I’ve won the lottery twice. Big jackpots. The eight and nine figure kind. The second time I won, the lottery commission wanted to investigate. Then the lottery system was suspended for months by a massive, catastrophic failure. Suddenly, I’m not a problem anymore.
I’ve even been at fault for natural disasters. Do you know what that guilt is like? When an earthquake kills hundreds of people simply because you watched the wrong documentary?
Since then, I’ve moved into the boonies with my winnings alone. I don’t have a TV. I don’t keep up with the news. I’m barely on the internet, and I hardly talk to anyone.
I can’t have a partner because I can’t be sure they want me or if it’s because of the wish. I can’t be sure they’ll be able to leave. I can’t be sure the side effects of my wish won’t kill them if they try.
Life is so predictable for me, it’s terrifying. Because it’s predictable only for me. I don’t know how my choices will ruin the lives of other people.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Can you help me?