On my birthday, my best friend gave me a Polaroid. I turned my face and went to the zoo with the photo paper.
I took beautiful photos of monkeys, wild boars and bears.
In my previous life, I took the Polaroids and photo paper from her and happily took photos of the whole family.
Unexpectedly, a week later, my mother had a car accident and died.
My dad suddenly suffered a stroke and was rescued from the hospital with half of his body paralyzed.
The company I managed also made mistakes and was on the verge of bankruptcy.
In just one month, my hair turned gray, countless wrinkles and red and swollen scars appeared on my face, and my body became what everyone said was overworked.
My boyfriend thought I was unlucky and said my family was ruined because of my bad luck, so he kicked me hastily.
I talked to my best friend, and unexpectedly discovered that she had acquired tens of millions of dollars in wealth at some point, and my parents, who had been in the hospital for a long time, also recovered, as if they had never been sick.
Under their double blow, the last line of defense in my heart was broken, and I was hit by a car and died on the spot on my way to the hospital.
Only after my death did I realize that the root cause of all the problems was the Polaroid given by my best friend, and they had already been in contact behind my back.
When I opened my eyes again, I went back to the day when my best friend gave me a Polaroid.
