When my grandfather died, he left behind two things: a multi-billion dollar inheritance, and three simple matchsticks. “You and your sister may each choose one,” the lawyer said, his voice echoing in the sterile office. “Mindy, as the eldest, you choose first.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose the billions. My adopted sister, Nicole, was left with the three matches. I never imagined those matches held the power of prophecy. That by striking one and making a wish, it would come true. Nicole, simmering with resentment over our parents’ perceived favoritism, used her first wish to curse them. Just as she wished, it happened. My father had a sudden, fatal heart attack. My mother, racing to the hospital, was killed instantly when a semi-truck ran a red light. I grabbed a kitchen knife and went straight for her. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you that when you turned eighteen, I’d give you half of Grandpa’s inheritance!” I screamed, my voice raw with grief. “Mom and Dad took you in! They gave you everything I had! How could you do this?!” Nicole’s face was a mask of pure greed. “If they were going to adopt me, they should have gotten rid of you! I should have been the one to get everything! I don’t want your charity. With all of you dead, the money is all mine!” With a cold smirk, she struck the second match. “I wish for my sister to be sold off to a remote village, forced to be a breeding machine until she dies in childbirth!” Panic seized me. I liquidated every asset I had and hired a thousand bodyguards, turning my home into a fortress. But one night, every single guard fell into an inexplicable, simultaneous stupor. I was taken, just as she’d wished. I was dragged to a remote village, where I was tortured and broken, my life reduced to a cycle of forced pregnancy and birth, treated worse than an animal. I don’t know how much time passed before I took my last breath in a storm of agony and humiliation. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the inheritance. … A murmur went through the room as my grandfather’s lawyer, following the will’s instructions, shakily placed three matchsticks on the table next to the thick portfolio of assets. “Has the old man lost his mind? Are those supposed to be a family heirloom?” “Maybe it’s his way of insulting the adopted one? That’s just cruel.” The lawyer cleared his throat, his voice thin and frail, just like Grandpa’s had been. “The multi-billion dollar inheritance and these three matches. You and your sister may each choose one. Mindy, you are the eldest. You choose first.” A jolt went through me. I was back. I was really back. My eyes darted to my parents, standing beside me. They were whole, they were alive, and they were smiling at me, giving me a nod of encouragement. My vision blurred with tears. Last time, I chose the billions. And Nicole used those three matches to destroy my family and send me to a living hell. The phantom pains of my death still lingered. This time, I would not make the same mistake. “I’ll take the matches,” I said, my voice clear and firm. The room fell silent. “Is Mindy insane? They’re just matchsticks, not solid gold.” “We’re talking about billions of dollars! And she’s just going to hand it over to an adopted kid? If she wants to play the saint, she picked a hell of a time to do it!” “This is painful to watch! If she doesn’t want it, I’ll take it!” My parents rushed to my side, tugging at my sleeve. “Mindy, honey, did you misspeak?” my mother whispered urgently. “Dad’s start-up just went public, and your mother’s health isn’t the best. We could really use the capital right now…” “Sweetheart, I know you have a good heart, and you’re always thinking of your sister. But you could have taken the inheritance and given her half later! You didn’t have to do this…” They pleaded with me, but my resolve was iron. “I want the three matches,” I repeated. “Nicole lost her parents when she was young. Her life has been harder than mine. The inheritance… I don’t want a single penny. It all goes to her.” Nicole looked like she was about to jump for joy. As she eagerly signed the inheritance documents, she shot me a saccharine, fake thank you. “Thank you, sister, for being so generous. Don’t worry, when you’re begging on the streets, I’ll be sure to buy you a bread roll!” My parents were so furious with me they were speechless. When Grandpa was bedridden, I had taken care of him tirelessly for three years. Nicole, who complained about the “old people smell,” only ever spoke to him when she wanted a cash gift for the holidays. That’s why, in both lifetimes, Grandpa gave me the first choice. I ignored the whispers and jeers from the others. They didn’t know the secret these matches held. They were priceless. That night, I heard my parents tossing and turning in their bedroom. “What on earth was that child thinking?” “We raised her for over twenty years, and she turns out to be a complete fool!” “The creditors are coming tomorrow. If we can’t pay them back, we’re going to lose the house!” My grandfather had been a firm believer in self-reliance, a rule he’d instilled in all his children. My father’s new company wasn’t profitable yet, and he’d taken on high-interest loans to keep it afloat. He had been counting on my inheritance to see them through. Nicole, meanwhile, was already out on the town, flaunting her newfound wealth. Getting a dime out of her to help our parents would be impossible. Hearing their worried whispers, my own heart ached. I slipped out of bed, went to my room, and silently struck the first match. “I wish,” I whispered into the tiny flame, “for my parents to become fabulously wealthy overnight.” Satisfied, I crawled back into bed and fell into a peaceful sleep. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my mother’s bloodcurdling scream. “It’s over! Everything is over!” “The office building caught fire! Everything’s been burned to the ground!” “The fire spread to the neighboring shops! We’re liable for tens of millions in damages!” My father was slumped on the floor, his head in his hands, his body wracked with tremors. I stood frozen, clutching the blackened stump of the matchstick, a deathly chill spreading through me. How could this happen? My mother, frantic and overwhelmed, saw me standing there in a daze, and all her pent-up frustration exploded. “This is all your fault! It’s because you chose those stupid matches!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “Matchsticks… fire… oh god, it was a sign… it was all fated!” “If you had just chosen the billions, none of this would have happened!” She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. My father just held her, his eyes closed in exhaustion, saying nothing. My head spun. How? I wished for them to be rich. Why did they go bankrupt instead? Could it be… because I was reborn? Had my interference changed the rules? Did the wishes now work in reverse? The thought sent me scrambling back to my room for the second match. But before I could even strike it, the front door was kicked open with a deafening crash. “Well, well. Look at you all, relaxing at home while we’ve been sweating our asses off trying to collect,” a brutish man sneered, flanked by a group of thugs. “This is your final warning. If you don’t have the money by tomorrow, we’re chopping off your hands.” He leered at me. “And I hear you’ve got a pretty daughter. Maybe she can help the boys… unwind.” They proceeded to smash everything in sight with their clubs, leaving our home in ruins. On top of the loans, we now owed millions in damages. Desperate, my parents had no choice but to call Nicole. She ignored the first nine calls. On the tenth, she finally picked up. “Honey, your mom and I are in trouble,” my father began, his voice strained. “Grandpa left you billions… we don’t need much, just thirty million. Please, can you help us?” “If we can’t pay, the loan sharks are going to… they’re going to take our hands…” I had seen Nicole’s social media posts. She’d just bought a new emerald necklace that cost fifty million. But in response to our parents’ desperate plea, she sighed dramatically. “Mom, Dad, it’s not that I don’t want to help. But this was Grandpa’s inheritance for me. I can’t just spend it recklessly. If you want to blame someone, blame my sister for only choosing three matchsticks.” Before they could say another word, she hung up. A moment later, a new post appeared on her feed. It was a picture of her cuddling a small puppy. On the puppy’s head sat a tiny crown made of solid gold. The caption read: “Money should only be spent on those who are worthy.” My parents trembled with a rage that left them speechless. To scrape together the money for the next day, I sold everything I owned: my collection of rare cards, my autographed memorabilia. I even sold my smartphone for a cheap, second-hand flip phone. My mother sold her wedding jewelry, and my father sold his car. We managed to gather a few million. A sliver of relief softened my father’s brow. “This should be enough to hold off the loan sharks for tomorrow.” My mother, now calmer, turned to me, her expression grave. “Mindy, I’m so sorry. I lost control this morning and I took it out on you. I know none of this is your fault. Please, forgive me.” A lump formed in my throat. I almost started crying. “Maybe I really did make the wrong choice…” My father gently patted my shoulder. “It’s over and done with. Money is just money. But seeing Nicole’s true colors for what they are? In a way, that’s priceless. To think we took her in because we felt sorry for her, and we ended up raising a viper.” Dinner was just plain bread, but huddled together, we found a warmth that had been missing. My father started talking about the future, a spark returning to his eyes. “As long as I have my health and my hands, I can rebuild. I know I can.” That night, I steeled myself and lit the second match. “I wish,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “for my parents to be crippled and live a life of poverty.” If the first wish was reversed, then I had to wish for the opposite of what I wanted. Please, let this work. Let them live long, prosperous lives. I clutched the spent matchstick, too terrified to sleep. I was petrified that I would wake up to another disaster, just like the morning before. I didn’t need them to be rich. I just needed them to be healthy and happy. Around five in the morning, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit me. My head lolled to the side, and for a moment, the world went black. When I woke up, the house was eerily silent. My heart pounded against my ribs. I crept to my parents’ bedroom and peeked inside. They were sleeping peacefully. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. But as I turned to go back to my room, two piercing, agonized screams erupted from behind the door.
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