This is just something that I wrote that came from my sick mind. Nice!!!
Seventeen, that was the number he was thinking of. Under normal circumstances it would have been a passing thought. But not this time. For some reason, he could not get that number out of his mind. No matter what he did to think of something else, the number seventeen kept popping into his mind. It was the the only thought he had when he woke up and the only one he had when he went to bed. This went on for seventeen years.
Now, seventeen years later, he woke up in the morning and there was that thought again. The number seventeen. Now, this was the seventeenth day of the seventeenth year since this started. It was the seventh month, on the seventeenth day. He was waiting for the bus and he just could not stop thinking of the number seventeen. Only now, this day, it was much much worse. There was no other thought but the number seventeen.
It was 5:00 o’clock in the evening, which, in military time would be the seventeenth hour. So, it was the seventh month, on the seventeenth day, the seventeenth hour and slowly approaching the seventh minute. The seconds were ticking by but the bus was nowhere in sight. Now the time was 5:17 and 5 seconds. He saw a cab and waved it down. As he stepped off the curb to get the cab, the time was exactly 5:17 and 17 seconds. Out of nowhere came an 18 wheeler truck, and hit him dead on, killing him instantly on impact. The thought was no longer.