On everybody's eighteenth birthday at noon, a mark shows up on your arm telling you what your job is going to be for your life. My mother is a photographer and my dad is a real estate agent. Most people have their family there to watch the reveal. You don't have to, but it's pretty much tradition. A symbol will appear onto your wrist. There is a huge book with every symbol so you can tell which you've gotten.
Today I've turned eighteen. It's 11:59 and ten of my family members are gathered around me. I'm slightly scared of what it's going to be. You have no choice whether you like it or not what job you get, you have to do it for the rest of your life. Thirty seconds later, I feel a small burning feeling on my arm as a mark starts to show. Slowly, the outline of a knife begins to appear. "It's probably a cooking career," my mom says hesitantly. My aunt grabs the big book of symbols from of the table and starts searching. Everyone in the room had an uneasy feeling. After five minutes of silence where on the the constant sound of pages flipping could be heard. The widening eyes of my aunt indicated that whatever was on my arm, wasn't good. She put her hand over her mouth. It looked like she was about to cry.
"She's a murderer."

A/n really, super short but I just wanted to leave it at that.