Lucky

I don’t believe in luck.

People don’t just get lucky.There is a reason behind every action and reaction. There is always a reason.

So, when I received a call that $20,000 had been added into my account I was suspicious.

Things like that don’t just happen. Especially not to me.

So who was it?

That was my first thought.

There is no one in my life who has that kind of money. No one that could find me anyway.

There’s been too many places.

Too many names.

Too many lives.

Always something to run from.

So who was it?

Logically, the first thing I did was go to my bank to make sure there wasn’t a mistake. There must have been.

The teller assured me there wasn’t.

The money was sent to Melian Smoke. Who I’ve been for the past six months. A nurse at the local hospital.

“This can’t possibly be real.” I said, unable to comprehend why someone would send $20,000 to someone who didn’t exist 6 months ago.

The teller smiled at me, the kind of smile that says that they’re happy for you but they secretly wish it was them, “ I know it’s hard to believe but you are incredibly lucky, my dear. You should be grateful.”

I could hear it then. The tone of jealousy hidden within her words.

“I don’t believe in luck.” I said, turning around to walk away.

“Wait ma’am, one more thing.” The teller called to my retreating figure.

One more thing. This is where she tells me it was all a big misunderstanding. Or that there’s some catch.

Every possible scenario flashed through my mind as I turned around and approached her again.

Step.

It wasn’t meant for me.

Step.

It was all some messed up prank.

Step.

She knows.

Step.

I’m not who I say I am.

Step.

I have to leave again.

Step.

Go while you still can.

“Something else came with the money.”

Stop. You’re at the counter. Calm your racing heart and listen.

I furrowed my brow, hiding the shaking of my hands in my pockets, “What is it?”

“An address, 2815 Nox Street.” She said, writing it down on a sticky note.

Nox.

Nox.

Nox.

She frowned down at the paper, “ Hm, I’ve never heard of it before. I’m not quite sure it’s around here or not but I’m sure you can figure it out”

“I don’t need to. I already know where it is.” I said, interrupting her.

I offered her a tight smile, “ Thank you.”

She looked a little taken aback, “Oh, no problem. Have a great day!”

But I was already walking away. It’s what I do best.

Nox.

Nox.

Nox.

I never thought I would hear that name again.

I got in my car. Hands shaking, heart pounding, head spinning.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Turn on the radio.

Drown out thoughts.

Start the car.

Drive.

Drive.

Drive.

2815 Nox Street.

You shouldn’t be going there.

You shouldn’t be going there.

You shouldn’t be going there.

I couldn’t stop myself.

I couldn’t run.

Not this time.

So I drove and drove and drove.

I blinked and there it was.

2815 Nox Street.

The place where I grew up.

Well, where Nox Owens grew up.

Past self.

Past life.

Past memories.

A girl named after the street she was born on, that died at age 16.

I got out of the car.

Walk.

Walk.

Walk.

Stop. Door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The door opens.

A woman I didn’t recognize smiled at me.

“Hello dear, you must be Nox. He’s upstairs.”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. Thanks.”

I brushed past her, entering a house I know all too well.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

I walked up the creaking stairs, one foot in front of the other.

A door left cracked open.

An old man lying in bed.

I walked in.

“Nox, you finally came back.” He said, smiling at me like no time had passed.

He looked older than I remembered him. Wrinkles lined his face, his once black hair now grey.

“Yeah, I did.” I approached him, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Was it you who put that money in my account?”

“No, it wasn’t me. But I have a feeling I know who did.”

He reached over to grab a small black notebook of his side table. He handed it to me, never taking his eyes off my face. Like he was trying to figure out how much of the girl he once knew remained.

I took the book from his frail hands.

I ran my fingers over the engraving on the cover.

Nox.

I opened it.

Maria Wells, age 19, saleswoman.

Cameron Black, age 20, Artist.

Bethany Knotts, age 21, Childcare Worker.

The list went on and on until finally I reached the last name.

Melian Smoke, age 26, Nurse.

This was a list of everyone I’ve ever been. Every name I’ve ever gone by.

I looked up at the old man, shocked,”How? How do you know all of this?”

His smile only grew across his aging face, “ Do you remember when you were younger and everyday you said you were going to be something different when you grew up? You could never decide what you wanted to be. I guess you never had to.”

He reached his hand across the sheets, grabbing mine, “ You’ve been running for so long, I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so glad you’re back, he would’ve been-”

I took my hand from his cutting him off, “ He would’ve been what? Proud? Proud that I’ve been running ever since he-.”

My voice broke, “ Every time I get too close to something or someone I leave. It’s not something I’m proud of. I’ve gotten so good at becoming someone else I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just can’t- I can’t do it again. It’s my fault that they’re gone and I-”

I was shaking by then, everything was my fault. Everything.

He grabbed my hand again, “ It wasn’t your fault. They wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself for something out of your control.”

“But they were coming to get me when they crashed and-”

“Read the last page.” He said, interrupting me.

“What?”

“Read the last page.” He repeated gesturing to the book still in my hand.

I opened it back up and flipped to the back of the little black book.

“Wait, go outside and read it. On the porch like you used to do.”

I got up from the bed, the book in hand, I backed away towards the door leaving the old man in his bed.

“Oh and I lied a little bit. I did put the money in your account but it wasn’t from me. I love you, Nox. And even if they wouldn’t be proud, I am.” He smiled at me again, this time I could see it. The love in his eyes.

I offered him a small smile back, not the fake one I gave most people either, a true smile, “ I love you too, Grandpa.”

I walked out and shut the door behind me heading towards the stairs.

Down.

Down.

Down.

I walked outside, the woman who let me in was nowhere to be found, and I sat down on the porch for the first time in almost 10 years.

I opened the book and started to read.

Dear Nox,

I have been putting off doing this for a long time. I wasn’t even sure what to give you. You can never decide what you like and I have no idea what you’re going to like in 10 years but I needed to give you something. So I decided on a notebook so that no matter what you do or who you are you can write it down. You can remember every important or lucky thing that's ever happened to you. I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to see who you grow up to be - whoever it is I am sure she’ll be wonderful. I arranged it so that when you’re 21 you’ll receive some money. I made everyone promise not to tell you who it’s from. I want you to think you just got lucky or something. Because you need more luck in your life. I don’t know when I’ll give this book to you, I'll probably wait a couple of years after the money so as not to ruin the mystery. Anyway I hope you put good use to it. Your mother is calling me from downstairs, something about you and your sister making a mess. I must go.

I love you Nox,

Dad

My eyes were wet with tears. Dad.

He gave me the money.

Grandpa must’ve gotten the money from him when he- when he died. When they died.

And the old man upstairs had been filling out the book for me for years, keeping track of where I’ve been, just so he could put the money in my account and the address so that I could come back here and get the book.

I had been running from their ghosts for so long and it all finally caught up to me. Dad.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky with a smile stretched across my face, “ I love you too, Dad. I love all of you. Thanks for the money Dad but I don’t believe in luck.”

Lucky

I don’t believe in luck.

People don’t just get lucky.There is a reason behind every action and reaction. There is always a reason.

So, when I received a call that $20,000 had been added into my account I was suspicious.

Things like that don’t just happen. Especially not to me.

So who was it?

That was my first thought.

There is no one in my life who has that kind of money. No one that could find me anyway.

There’s been too many places.

Too many names.

Too many lives.

Always something to run from.

So who was it?

Logically, the first thing I did was go to my bank to make sure there wasn’t a mistake. There must have been.

The teller assured me there wasn’t.

The money was sent to Melian Smoke. Who I’ve been for the past six months. A nurse at the local hospital.

“This can’t possibly be real.” I said, unable to comprehend why someone would send $20,000 to someone who didn’t exist 6 months ago.

The teller smiled at me, the kind of smile that says that they’re happy for you but they secretly wish it was them, “ I know it’s hard to believe but you are incredibly lucky, my dear. You should be grateful.”

I could hear it then. The tone of jealousy hidden within her words.

“I don’t believe in luck.” I said, turning around to walk away.

“Wait ma’am, one more thing.” The teller called to my retreating figure.

One more thing. This is where she tells me it was all a big misunderstanding. Or that there’s some catch.

Every possible scenario flashed through my mind as I turned around and approached her again.

Step.

It wasn’t meant for me.

Step.

It was all some messed up prank.

Step.

She knows.

Step.

I’m not who I say I am.

Step.

I have to leave again.

Step.

Go while you still can.

“Something else came with the money.”

Stop. You’re at the counter. Calm your racing heart and listen.

I furrowed my brow, hiding the shaking of my hands in my pockets, “What is it?”

“An address, 2815 Nox Street.” She said, writing it down on a sticky note.

Nox.

Nox.

Nox.

She frowned down at the paper, “ Hm, I’ve never heard of it before. I’m not quite sure it’s around here or not but I’m sure you can figure it out”

“I don’t need to. I already know where it is.” I said, interrupting her.

I offered her a tight smile, “ Thank you.”

She looked a little taken aback, “Oh, no problem. Have a great day!”

But I was already walking away. It’s what I do best.

Nox.

Nox.

Nox.

I never thought I would hear that name again.

I got in my car. Hands shaking, heart pounding, head spinning.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Turn on the radio.

Drown out thoughts.

Start the car.

Drive.

Drive.

Drive.

2815 Nox Street.

You shouldn’t be going there.

You shouldn’t be going there.

You shouldn’t be going there.

I couldn’t stop myself.

I couldn’t run.

Not this time.

So I drove and drove and drove.

I blinked and there it was.

2815 Nox Street.

The place where I grew up.

Well, where Nox Owens grew up.

Past self.

Past life.

Past memories.

A girl named after the street she was born on, that died at age 16.

I got out of the car.

Walk.

Walk.

Walk.

Stop. Door.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The door opens.

A woman I didn’t recognize smiled at me.

“Hello dear, you must be Nox. He’s upstairs.”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. Thanks.”

I brushed past her, entering a house I know all too well.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

I walked up the creaking stairs, one foot in front of the other.

A door left cracked open.

An old man lying in bed.

I walked in.

“Nox, you finally came back.” He said, smiling at me like no time had passed.

He looked older than I remembered him. Wrinkles lined his face, his once black hair now grey.

“Yeah, I did.” I approached him, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Was it you who put that money in my account?”

“No, it wasn’t me. But I have a feeling I know who did.”

He reached over to grab a small black notebook of his side table. He handed it to me, never taking his eyes off my face. Like he was trying to figure out how much of the girl he once knew remained.

I took the book from his frail hands.

I ran my fingers over the engraving on the cover.

Nox.

I opened it.

Maria Wells, age 19, saleswoman.

Cameron Black, age 20, Artist.

Bethany Knotts, age 21, Childcare Worker.

The list went on and on until finally I reached the last name.

Melian Smoke, age 26, Nurse.

This was a list of everyone I’ve ever been. Every name I’ve ever gone by.

I looked up at the old man, shocked,”How? How do you know all of this?”

His smile only grew across his aging face, “ Do you remember when you were younger and everyday you said you were going to be something different when you grew up? You could never decide what you wanted to be. I guess you never had to.”

He reached his hand across the sheets, grabbing mine, “ You’ve been running for so long, I thought I’d never see you again. I’m so glad you’re back, he would’ve been-”

I took my hand from his cutting him off, “ He would’ve been what? Proud? Proud that I’ve been running ever since he-.”

My voice broke, “ Every time I get too close to something or someone I leave. It’s not something I’m proud of. I’ve gotten so good at becoming someone else I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just can’t- I can’t do it again. It’s my fault that they’re gone and I-”

I was shaking by then, everything was my fault. Everything.

He grabbed my hand again, “ It wasn’t your fault. They wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself for something out of your control.”

“But they were coming to get me when they crashed and-”

“Read the last page.” He said, interrupting me.

“What?”

“Read the last page.” He repeated gesturing to the book still in my hand.

I opened it back up and flipped to the back of the little black book.

“Wait, go outside and read it. On the porch like you used to do.”

I got up from the bed, the book in hand, I backed away towards the door leaving the old man in his bed.

“Oh and I lied a little bit. I did put the money in your account but it wasn’t from me. I love you, Nox. And even if they wouldn’t be proud, I am.” He smiled at me again, this time I could see it. The love in his eyes.

I offered him a small smile back, not the fake one I gave most people either, a true smile, “ I love you too, Grandpa.”

I walked out and shut the door behind me heading towards the stairs.

Down.

Down.

Down.

I walked outside, the woman who let me in was nowhere to be found, and I sat down on the porch for the first time in almost 10 years.

I opened the book and started to read.

Dear Nox,

I have been putting off doing this for a long time. I wasn’t even sure what to give you. You can never decide what you like and I have no idea what you’re going to like in 10 years but I needed to give you something. So I decided on a notebook so that no matter what you do or who you are you can write it down. You can remember every important or lucky thing that's ever happened to you. I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to see who you grow up to be - whoever it is I am sure she’ll be wonderful. I arranged it so that when you’re 21 you’ll receive some money. I made everyone promise not to tell you who it’s from. I want you to think you just got lucky or something. Because you need more luck in your life. I don’t know when I’ll give this book to you, I'll probably wait a couple of years after the money so as not to ruin the mystery. Anyway I hope you put good use to it. Your mother is calling me from downstairs, something about you and your sister making a mess. I must go.

I love you Nox,

Dad

My eyes were wet with tears. Dad.

He gave me the money.

Grandpa must’ve gotten the money from him when he- when he died. When they died.

And the old man upstairs had been filling out the book for me for years, keeping track of where I’ve been, just so he could put the money in my account and the address so that I could come back here and get the book.

I had been running from their ghosts for so long and it all finally caught up to me. Dad.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky with a smile stretched across my face, “ I love you too, Dad. I love all of you. Thanks for the money Dad but I don’t believe in luck.”