This is part of our Creative Writing: Finding Your Voice series, where kids were encouraged to free write and let whatever snippets/scenarios come alive on the page. by Meredith and Caleb 11/2/3022. That's my number. Everybody has a date tattooed on the inside of their left wrist. Nobody really knows why or how this happens, but it does. The numbers show what day the person will die on. They might die of old age, in a car crash, murder. It doesn't matter. The numbers have never been wrong; everyone has always died on "their day." That is, until now. I was supposed to die yesterday. And then *poof*. I felt cold...I heard noises. I could not see anything. It felt like I was there for hours...but then I saw a light and I thought to myself... "Wait am I dead or not?"
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