One day, the rain ran green instead of blue, and everything changed.
I thought it was going to be a normal day. I got up and got ready for school, but something felt off. My dog, who always barked in the morning, was silent. That was unusual. Then, my mom—who always made eggs—served pancakes instead. She hadn’t made pancakes in years.
I got on the bus and looked out the window. The sky was purple. That’s when I remembered—the rain had been green yesterday.
Just like in that book I read.
My heart skipped a beat. In the book, a girl just like me had a dog that always barked, except for one strange morning. Her mom, who always made eggs, made pancakes instead. Just like now.
I racked my brain, trying to remember what happened next. And then it hit me.
The school was on fire.
Panic set in. I ran to every teacher I could find, trying to warn them, but no one believed me. They laughed, shook their heads, or just ignored me.
Two hours later, the fire alarm went off.
Just like in the book.
This strange connection between my life and the book didn’t stop there. Week after week, everything kept happening exactly as it had in the story.
And that’s when I had an idea.
If I could predict events, I could make money from it. So, I started a business—people paid me to tell them what would happen next. It worked perfectly. I made a fortune.
Years passed. The book thing eventually stopped, and the world went back to normal. But now, everything feels boring. I can predict what’s going to happen so easily, it’s almost like…
Like this story is about to end.