Disclaimer: I do not own Final Destination
Prologue
That pompous son of a whore. In two days I'll be sixty-three years old and he thinks its funny to put tacks on my rocking chair? I'm going to kill that son of a whore! I would, if I wasn't so damn old. No energy for an old man like me. I can't do anything besides listening to how I raised my kids and hope that tomorrow I won't be dead. I want to be one hundred before I die. The longest one I know reached ninety-five before he died. My ticker's still beating, I just got a new pacemaker, and I lost so many teeth I can no longer eat food that isn't soft— not that I liked that food anyways. Tomorrow my idiot son is taking me to the museum. It's just going to be another boring family adventure.
There is one secret I've kept from my family and it's why I've been alienated from my doctors. I can see people's futures. No, I'm no fortune teller. I mean I can see a precious moment that's about to happen to someone or I see them dying before my eyes even when they're still alive. At first I was scared of this gift, but I learned to accept it. Having it makes me feel more secure about everything and won't be seen in a psychosis check. It's so rad, I wish I had it sooner. But there is times I have to shut this side of my brain of...or the consequence's will be terrible.
