In general, people have a proportioned amount of luck. For example, people might have a flat tire in the morning, but, by the time they arrive home, they have had some sort of luck during the day that pulled them out of their own defeat. I, however, do not have this natural luck or the ability to be pulled out of my own defeat. I tend to grovel in it. My worst day ever will live in infamy. It was filled with death, explosions, and meteors. I do not know how I survived it, but I do know that I will never be the same because it.
The morning started eerily ominous. You could feel death in the air. I brushed my teeth and then proceeded to go feed my fish Geraldo. Geraldo and I go way back. He was given to my parents the day I was born. Twenty-four years later we shared an apartment together. As I approached the fish bowl, I witnessed a horrific sight – Geraldo was floating at the top. I rushed to the tank frantically, but it was too late. He was already gone. I sat with him and cried for hours. I did not know how I was going to carry on without my dear friend. I finally worked up the courage to get dressed to bury Geraldo. As we were leaving, I buckled him in the seatbelt one last time. It hurt; this was the end for the both of us.
Shortly after pulling out on the interstate, heading toward the pet cemetery, I smelled a strange, burning smoke coming out of the engine. Naturally, I pulled over to investigate. As I popped open the hood of my 1924 Model T, flames jumped out and engorged my car. I ran over to save the corpse of my Geraldo, but once again I was too late. The car exploded. Geraldo was officially a crispy fish stick. The firemen came to came to the rescue to extinguish the fire. Traffic was backed up for miles, and I could hear random shouts and yells from all directions, cursing me for the inconvenience I was causing them. I wish I had the strength in me to let them know I was already cursed – this day had made sure of that – but I couldn’t. I had been defeated for a second time.
I had only made it a few miles before my car and my fish died, so, with my head hung low, I started my journey home. The walk was lonely. I cried and walked. I couldn’t remember a day as bad as this day had been. It was one thing after another, without even a chance to regain a sense of stability or reality. A few blocks away from my apartment I could smell burning (again). I smelled my clothes thinking the remembrance of my car might have been lingering. No, that was not it. As I drew closer to my apartment, I began to see reporters, fire trucks, and a N.A.S.A. van. With adrenaline running through my body, I ran over to find out what was going on. To my awe my apartment was not there, only remains of it, scattered across the road. Nobody would talk to me because it was all a top secret phenomenon that had just happened. As I listened to the nosy neighbor Mrs. Manycats, I discovered that a meteor had hit my apartment, destroying everything! This was by far the worst day ever!
Admitting defeat I went to stay at my parents’ house indefinitely. I went to bed just out of shear depression, and when I woke up it almost seemed like it all had to be a very bad nightmare – there is no way someone could have that much bad luck consistently in one day. Regaining my consciousness, I realized it was possible, and it did happen. This day changed my life; it was filled with death, explosions, and meteors. I survived it, and I will never take any fish, car, or apartment for granted again.
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