The Deal

The Doorstep

                  

When I was eleven years old I broke the mirror in my compact and the next morning my mother was swallowed by the sea.

The ocean that sits only a few blocks down from our small home is always angry and treacherous. Freezing water all year round that makes your skin feel as if it is burning off as soon as you step in. Waves as big as the houses that line the shore and as angry as the cloudy sky above it.

No one goes swimming.

But, on that chilly December morning my mother had left the house just after the sun had risen with a simple note stating that she was going for a dip and would be back for lunch.

But, she never did come back.

And then a couple on their honeymoon discovered her body washed up on shore the next morning. They had ruled it an accidental drowning, but I knew better.

My mother didn't know how to swim.

A year later it was raining so hard I thought the world was going to end, so I opened up my umbrella indoors and it was just a week later that the worst day of my life happened.

My father was the next person to fall victim to my carelessness and he still suffers because of it to this day.

It's been eight years since this incident occurred and I have been following my Nana's advice ever since. I throw salt over my left shoulder and carry around my sea glass and special crystals. No walking underneath ladders for me or messing with black cats. I never tell lies and I always give any change I have to the men that sleep on the streets. I'm always knocking on wood and walking right foot first.

Superstitions rule my life now.

I don't make mistakes anymore. I can't afford to lose anyone else.

But, this particular morning was really deciding to test my faith in the spirits and in my luck.

I read somewhere that tripping over your doorstep on the way out of your house could be considered a bad omen.

Tripping over a doorstep in the morning means nothing but trouble and it is highly recommended that you stay inside and avoid leaving the house at all costs.

The action seems miniscule to some and would be easily forgotten by most -it's just a doorstep after all. Something most would laugh off and continue on with their lives merrily never thinking of it again.

But, for me, the action couldn't be more foreboding.

Superstitions and luck are the only things I have to ensure that I don't anger the spirits.

Something I cling onto like some cling onto their belief in God.

While tripping over my step had certainly brought a sense of foreboding to my day, I tell myself that the rusty nail that caused the slip would've certainly brought me harm later, and it was actually good luck that I caught it early.

Yes, that's exactly it. It has to be good luck.

Considering my history with bad luck, what I really should have done was stayed inside with a tub of ice cream and re-runs of 'Friends.'

However, I am already running late to my appointment and have to practically jog toward the all-too familiar medical building –one I've had to frequent most of my life. The only one, really, in the small town I live in off the coast of England.

The kind of beach town where everyone knows everyone and every single detail of your life is known by all the inhabitants. All of the houses sit close to each other and all of the shops are family ran. There is no secrecy, no privacy here. Hell, I wouldn't doubt that everyone knows the exact date and time that I lost my virginity.