I refuse to be superstitious, I do not even tolerate it. But all this bravado flies out the window at the sight of the number 13, on the 13th, and even plot13 scares me shitless. I guess you can say, other than snakes, that is the thing I fear the most on earth. But I didn’t always have this phobia.
The first time 13 became a no-no number for me, I was too young to pay it any mind. But the memory just never faded. I used to be a star pupil when I was a lil younger. I always averaged somewhere between the 1st and 2nd positions and the first time I was not in that bracket, I shot up all the way to 13th place. I will never forget the look on my dad’s face when I handed him that report card. Needless to say, I was treated as a social outcast for the rest of the holiday. I was in P.4.
Fast forward to S.1. I turned 13. This woman that was not my mother landed on my diary and thought daddy would be interested in what it had to say. Daddy did not like what was in it, stopped liking me for a while, and even refused to come see me at school that visiting day. That was the worst term I had in school. Towards the end of the term, I was summoned to the principal’s office. I thought my dad had gotten some sense afterall and come to be a parent. There was a parent all right, but it was my mother. Come to tell me that my sister who was only 17 had died at school.
I flunked my math exam that term and was asked to repeat S.1, which I refused to do and got transferred to another school. 7 months later, the teacher on duty came to pick me from class at 8pm. My dad had died. Just 2 months shy of my 14th birthday.
2004, December 13th, I am chilling with a one loser when mum calls. My aunt who we had been staying with had succumbed to THE disease. She had left a lil sick gal-now my adopted sister.
April 13th 2005, 6:00am, I receive a text message. My cousin Patience dead from an asthma attack aged 15.
Today is the 13th. That sense of foreboding that always grips me at the mention or sight of this number is hanging around me.
11 loungers burdening me:
I was born on July, Friday 13th. So what does that make me? The Bride of Chucky? Perhaps.
the bride of chucky ROTFL
I know of that uncool feeling, when such a thing comes up.
But, hell, me, I just refuse to believe in it, even when bad things happen.
Afterall, I do have a right not to believe!!! My most precious right.
gug
So what did happen today? I went to the doctors. Yay go the antibiotics! My 13th was boooooring!
Extreme coincidence, that is what it is, and i shall stick with that!
My dear there is no such thing as a bad day don't dwell on it and somehow it will not be bad...
You have a history of bad 13s. But science goes hand in hand, if there is no scientific explanation of unlucky 13, then it is just people's beliefs. Hope nothing bad happened this year though.
I go with 31337 extreme coincidence!
But aaaawww so so sad....
Count all the 13s that didn't go wrong. :o) And all the other 13s, from now on, will be the ones that didn't go wrong.
Did you know, by the way, that I have this weird `blessing' gift? So, there. I just set your other 13s straight. (Because we have a number of touching parallels, from your recount, and I felt like helping a distant sister out.)
I hope the day came off without a hitch for you.
I have only been fired from one job in my life and it was on Friday the 13th. Since it was such an awful job, I have come to think of Friday the 13th as a lucky day for me.
If you go looking for something you will find it.
Pick another random number and think of bad/good things that are associated with it and you'll find what you're looking for.
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