I didn't realise I was the only one with this talent until went to school. I brought it up during break time, asking one of my friends why he had a 10 drifting over his head when everyone else's number was pretty high.

Luckily they didn't drag me to the loony bin: kids say crazy shit, after all. I realised what it meant when my friend got hit by a car, ten days later, alright. So when I saw the guy in my college class with the -21 over his head, I simply watched. What else could I do? I could hardly talk to him about it.

Until he brought it up first.

"Haven't met one of us in a long time," he said casually after class one day, like he was discussing the weather. "Do you know you're -100?"

That's right: us. I wasn't alone after all. Brian revealed what he'd found out as a child, because his parents have the gift, too. Lucky him. You guessed it: I'm adopted.

Brian knew he was -21, of course. He'd known his number his whole life, ticking ever closer to zero with every passing day. He also knew what happened when it ticked over to 0.

"So they disappear? Just like that?" I asked, when we hung out in the park one day. If you meet someone else with your very specific condition, you become friends with that person.

He mimed blowing smoke out of his mouth. "Poof. Not dead, as far as I know. Simply gone. My parents told me when I was kid, and it happened to my dad last year. My mom's still around, though. She's trying to cope with the fact that I'll be off too, soon."

He tried to look cavalier about this disappearing-into-thin-air business, and failed. I didn't even try. I freaked out, because my number was -90, by now. I had three months until - what, exactly?

(I'll write my ending soon!)