“You go first Jennifer. Come on, open it, see what it says!” I prompt my friend with excitement and anticipation. Crammed tables overflowing with people in this local Chinese restaurant make it obvious how cheap the place is. We are nearing the end of our surprisingly well cooked meal – given the quality of the restaurant – and our plates are stacked at the side of the small round table, waiting to be taken away by one of the few waitresses. At the center of the rickety wooden stand between us sit two identical fortune cookies, waiting to be opened. They may be the same on the outside with their skin coloured twisted shells, but on the inside await our inevitable fates.

“Oh alright, if you're too scared,” Jennifer teases as she cracks open her cookie. In one smooth motion she unravels the crisp white slip of paper cocooned inside and begins to read in an over dramatized voice. “You will find yourself  in sudden isolation within the hour,” she finishes with a smirk on her face, blatantly displaying how silly she thinks this is.
“But, but how could that be? You're with me all evening!” I squeak, terrified. I'm an extremely superstitious person. When I was little, a black cat crossed the street in front of me and the next thing I knew, I was face first in the concrete with a broken nose because I was run over by my sister's bike. Ever since then, I've believed in every single superstition there is.
Jennifer rolls her eyes in exasperation,“Do you seriously believe this crap? There's no way a stupid fortune cookie could predict my future.”
“You never know! There have been stories proving their accuracy,” I insist.
Once again, she rolls her eyes,“Don't tell me you're thinking about that stupid cat incident again. That was just by chance and even if it wasn't, it has nothing to do with fortune cookies,” she groans with exasperation.
“They're related more closely than you think!” I defend.
“Whatever. You're just stalling. Open yours now,” Jennifer thrusts the cookie into my hand.
Presperation trickles down the side of my face and my fingers begin to tremble in fear. My surroundings start to slow down around me and my nose sharpens to the scent of rice, deep fried meats, and various condiments such as soya and sweet chili sauce. After I take a deep breath to prepare myself, I squeeze my eyes shut and break open the fortune cookie. The loud, crisp “CRACK” from the snapping of the cookie is accompanied by the clanging of dishes and pots, and the loud chatter around me. Slowly, I unravel the slip of paper and open my eyes a millimeter to read the black font. As I scan the words, my heart stops:

Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city  immediately and never return. Repeat: say nothing.

I clamp my mouth shut.
“What Sylvie, what is it?” Jennifer questions.
I see the tiniest hint of fear in the back of her eyes. Without answering, I shake my head vigorously, my eyes wide with terror.
She snatches the prediction out of my grasp. Within five seconds she's scanned the message and is now looking up at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Really? Really? How can you – there's no way... you can't tell me you actually believe this, this nonsense,” she says bewildered.
I shake my head again, then begin collecting my things as swiftly as possible. The buzz of chatter and the clanging of dishes have now morphed into a dull background noise.
Jennifer's eyes widen in disbelief. “Stop it Sylvie! What are you doing? Speak to me!” she cries, beginning to become flustered.
I don't dare say a word, but I pull a $50 bill out of my purse and slap it onto the table. With one last glance at my friend and a remorseful look, I spin on my heels and and dash out of my seat.
Jennifer grabs my wrist in an attempt to make me stay, but I yank myself out of her grip and make for the door. As it closes behind me, I hear her last cry of protest, “Don't leave me here, come back!”
Only then do I realize that as a result of my actions, her fortune cookie prediction just became true! Nothing is stopping mine from becoming realized. Another surge of terrified adrenaline passes through me, urging me to run faster. I high tail it out of the restaurant and don't look back.

   End of Part 1