The Cursed Tongue

Summary

I was born with a cursed mouth.

The day my mom gave birth to my little brother, four-year-old me spoke the first sentence of my life: "Here comes the debt collector."

My dad heard it. He grabbed a sewing needle and pierced my lip. I bled so much.

My Nana held me in her arms, heart broken, screaming at my dad, "She's just a child! How could you?"

I stared unblinkingly at my father and whispered, in a voice only Nana could hear:

"He's going to die."

The next day, my dad’s semi-truck jackknifed on the highway. By the time they found him, he was nothing but a pile of meat paste.